Heard It All Before (14 page)

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Authors: Michele Grant

BOOK: Heard It All Before
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13
Love (or Something Like It) Is in the Air
Jewel—Saturday, July 26, 8:10 p.m.
 
 
A
fter spending every spare minute of the last month and a half with this boy, I thought I knew him pretty well. Not intimately, but well enough to feel his vibe. Which was why I knew something was different today.
Something had been off with Roman all day. Oh, he was still Roman and all, but different. Haircut this morning—he didn't tease the old barber like he usually did. Just sat down, got the cut, and left. During hoops at the gym, he didn't slam dunk or sky hook, not once. No Air/Shaq/KG moves at all. Didn't talk any trash. At lunch with the gang, he let Renee get away with all kinds of little snide comments he usually never let slide. Didn't tease me for ordering a fried chicken salad with diet dressing and a diet drink.
Then we went to the mall and I tested him. Dragged him into the bookstore and read the backs of at least twenty romance novels before just picking one. He usually hated that! He just stood there, no comment.
And the weirdest thing, he actually offered suggestions in Victoria's Secret! Normally he walked over to the sports store while I bought more underwear that I didn't need. (Mom always said you can never have too much!) Anyway, he came alive and starting picking out stuff. Racy stuff too. Purple lace teddies and hot red garters and a scandalous sheer black nightgown. He actually asked me my size and bought that sheer black thing. We weren't even sleeping together yet and he bought me this thing.
I wished he could have seen himself. This big, tall man dressed in denim from head to toe standing around in Vicki's flipping through negligees as if his life depended on it. And before you ask why we weren't sleeping together yet, I didn't really know. Wasn't like I was being prudish or saving myself. We had the new millennium talk about being protected and AIDS-free and all that, but that was it. I assumed we were waiting—for what, I didn't know, just waiting! It was actually kind of refreshing. One less thing to worry about for now, if you asked me.
Now back to this mall scene. After we left Vicki's with two hundred bucks' worth of truly recreational lingerie, he lapsed back into this apathetic state he had been in all day. He had been social but quiet. Preoccupied, almost like he'd rather be somewhere else. Almost like he didn't really care.
At first I thought it was Chase. Jaquenetta took Chase with her on vacation, so Roman had to skip this weekend with him. But I asked him and he said he was used to Jaquenetta changing the schedule on him, and he'd get three extra days with Chase over Labor Day weekend.
The last straw was the frozen yogurt stand. He hated frozen yogurt. Said you should just eat ice cream and be done with it. But when I walked him over there, he ordered a double scoop of chocolate in a waffle cone! I walked to a booth and sat down, not believing he was actually going to eat it. He dug right in like it was the finest Häagen-Dazs available.
So I just came straight out with it. “What's wrong with you?”
“Nuthin'.” He finished the cone in record time, never looking at me.
“Something's wrong; you've been strange all day.”
“Oh yeah? Hmm.” He reached over and tossed the napkin in the trash.
I rolled my eyes and came to the point. “Almost like you don't want to be here.”
He looked at me finally. “I'm cool.”
“Roman, you hate yogurt,” I persisted.
“So?” He picked up a section of newspaper someone had left at the table.
“So. You just wolfed down a jumbo cone of it.”
He looked surprised. “Ah, well, it was all right, I guess.”
“Roman, you can bullshit anyone else you want, but come straight with me. If something's up, just let me know.”
“Jewel, ya know you're the woman. Quit trippin'.” He flipped a page.
“What's that
mean
?” Sometimes, I swear, we had a whole conversation where he meant one thing and I thought another.
“Ya know, you're definitely the woman. Like implying, ya all right with me. We cool and all.” He folded the paper in half and kept reading.
That sweet way he had of laying things out clearly just warmed me right up inside. So warm I wanted to snatch that paper out of his hands and smack him right across that chiseled jaw. “Roman LaChayse.” I learned that tone from Mom. That no-nonsense, I've-had-quite-enough-of-this tone.
Now he rolled his eyes. “Just got something on my mind. Let it go.” He put the paper down.
Well, now I was insulted. If I had a bad day, he would wheedle and cajole and nag until I shared every tiny detail of it with him. Now I was supposed to just let it go? Uh-huh. That was how we gonna work this relationship now? Okay, then, maturity gone. I could play this just as cool as the next person. “Fine. Ready to go?”
He frowned at me. “Now what's wrong with you?”
I smiled at him. “Nothing, you ready?”
Still frowning, he shrugged and stood up. “Sure. Did you get everything you came for?”
“Most definitely,” I lied, but I wasn't staying there another minute. I stood up and took off walking.
He caught up to me and grabbed my arm. “Thought you said you needed a new outfit to wear somewhere?”
I tugged my arm away. “Did I? I really have enough clothes. Let's go.” I kept walking. When we got outside, I stopped to shove on my sunglasses even though the sun had set. Mid-July and it was hot as hell. I hated to see what August and September were going to be like this year. Roman stood silently beside me, watching me. “Where'd we park?” I asked without looking at him.
He sighed deeply, as if pained, and started forward without a word.
I didn't care. I was still peeved at this double-standard bullshit. If I have a problem, it was, “Talk to me, Jewellen. Share with me, Jewel. What's on your mind, Miss Jewel? We in a relationship; we should be able to
talk
to one another.” The lecture was on in full effect.
Today, he had an obvious case of the ass, and all I got was, “Let it go.” What happened to the “equal time” he was always going on and on about? As if it wasn't hot enough out here, now my temper was boiling too.
We got into the car and he drove the five minutes back to my place. I got out quick, not really expecting him to come in. So, of course, he did. I went upstairs to put my stuff away and, of course, he followed. I opened one of my drawers to put away the socks I just bought when he tossed the Victoria's Secret bag at me.
“Wanna put that somewhere?” He stood there with some sort of amused look on his face.
I could think of a place I'd like to shove it, I thought. Instead, I opened the bottom drawer and dropped the whole thing in, bag and all, before kicking it shut. I stood by the dresser tapping my nails on the surface. Ever just want someone to be gone from you? Just away. Not in your space right at that minute.
“Gotta problem?”
Brilliant deduction, player. “I'm cool.” I smirked at being able to throw his words back at him.
He came over and yanked off my sunglasses and tossed them on the dresser. “I can't read your expressions with these things on.”
“I can't read yours either!” I yanked off his and tossed them right alongside mine.
He looked at me for a second and smiled. “I'm going to the video store.” He turned away and headed for the stairs.
“So you're coming back?” I asked him.
“Where else would I go, Miss Jewel?” he answered on his way down the stairs.
Home
, I thought evilly. Take your sometimey attitude and roll on back to where you came from.
“Want me to pick up something to eat for later?” he called from the hallway.
I looked at the clock on my dresser. It was already close to nine o'clock—how late did he plan to hang around in this present mood? “I'll probably just snack, but you can pick up something for yourself,”—paused—“if you're going to be here that long.”
He laughed and shut the front door.
I guess he was planning an extended visit. He'd stayed the night before, and I'd stayed over there a time or two, but never when he was acting this funky. Besides, this sleeping together without actually
sleeping together
was getting on my nerves.
I took a long, hot, soothing shower and changed into shorts and a T-shirt. Calm again, I was pulling my hair up into a ponytail when the phone rang.
Thinking it was Roman calling from the video store, the calm fled and I punched the speaker button and answered rudely, “Yeah, what?”
“Jewellen?” Stacie's voice was confused.
“Hi, Stace, sorry. What's up?”
“I was calling to see if you were going to make church tomorrow? You sound like you could use a little religion.” She laughed.
“Yeah, girl, I thought I'd try. Why, what's up?”
“Well, I'm trying to get everyone together so we can go over the wedding plans.”
“Ah, it's about that time, huh?” Nobody but Stacie was enthused about this damn wedding.
“Yeah, we got the church for the second Saturday in August. Lucked out, really—someone else canceled.”
“How sad. I wonder who.” How horrible to cancel a month before the big day. I knocked on wood that something like that never happened to me. Course, at the rate I was going, I needed not worry about marriage plans anytime in the near future.
“Yeah, well, whoever's loss is my gain. Can you make it?”
“I'm back!” Roman bellowed from the front door before slamming it shut.
Goody, His Moodiness returned. Let the peasants rejoice.
My, I really was testy this evening!
I switched over to the handset and headed downstairs. “I'll plan on it.” The phone beeped. “That's my other line, Stace. See you tomorrow.” I stood in the kitchen and watched Roman unloading all kinds of junk as I switched over. “Hello?”
“Jew-Ro, I'm in love,” Roni Mae sang across the line.
I smiled. “Is that right. Who's the lucky man?”
“Who do you think? Aaron Too Fine Paris, that's who!” she squealed, and launched into a lengthy explanation of how this love thing came to be. While she chatted, I hit the MUTE button and glared at Roman.
“What is all that crap?” He had about four bags of groceries.
He smirked at me. “Thought I should keep some stuff I like to eat over here. You know how I hate all that nasty fat-free, low-calorie shit.”
Now he was moving food into my fridge? An hour ago, he told me to “let it go.” Now our food was cohabitating. I switched the MUTE button, “Girl, I'm happy for you.”
“Thanks, girl. You know what else he did?” she started up again. Muted her again.
“So, uh, you're moving food in all of a sudden?” I asked suspiciously.
He ripped open a packet of microwave popcorn and looked at me. “Got another problem?” I didn't care for his tone. At all. Shit, I could have an attitude if I wanted. It was my house, my kitchen, and ... shit!
“Maybe I do. Hold on a sec.” I held the phone back up to my ear and unmuted. “You know, girl, this all sounds so good—why don't you tell me again tomorrow at Stacie's thing.” I listened for a second. “Uh-huh, tell me that too. I gotta run; something's about to boil over up in here. Okay, bye.”
I slapped the phone down on the counter. “Seems to me you sure are making yourself at home up and through here.”
He took out a bowl and two glasses and set them on a tray before answering. “Yeah, that's true. But, hey, I want you to do the same over at my joint, okay?”
Here he goes with the hip-hop again. Before I could think of something else to say, the damn phone rang again. I started to ignore it when I noticed how irritated he was about it, this being the third call in a matter of minutes. Just to be contrary, I snatched it up. “Hello?”
“Jewel?” A male voice I didn't recognize was asking for me.
“Yeah?” I glanced at the phone screen:
Private Number.
“Hey, how are you doing?” The voice was more familiar, but I couldn't place it yet.
“Okay, how about you?”
“You have no idea
who
this is, do you, honey?”
Only one person ever called me honey like that. Almost like an afterthought. “How could I forget you, Patrick?” I laughed at my ex-boyfriend, okay, seriously, ex-fiancé. Don't they pick the darnedest times to call? Patrick and I were real tight back in the day. I thought he was it. I was sure he thought I was it, too. That was before his ex-girlfriend came along and he realized she was it ... still. Everyone said I should have fought harder for him, and maybe I should have, but that was not my thing. I was knocked out of the ring the minute the ex turned up with that I'm-so-sorry-I-miss-you-so-much mess.

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