Yearning For Her Curves: (A BWWM Interracial Romance) (2 page)

“Normally, you’d be the first one to tell me that’s not healthy.  Maybe follow your own advice,” she said before turning and leaving me there alone.  I sighed and looked down at the ornate metal shaped into flowers and such across the table.

~~~

That night, my phone rang while I was getting dressed.  Patrick and I were going out to an upscale bar that had just opened downtown, so I was putting on something nice.  I glanced down at my phone and stopped.  It was Patrick.

“Hey,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed and waiting.

“Hey, how was your day?” 

I smiled. “It was okay.  Did you know Joey spent the day with Al and gave Charlotte a break?” 

“No, but I figured.  All he’s talked about is how tired she must be, and how much he wishes he could give her a break.”  Patrick said.

“He is so excited about being a Dad.  Are they going to the same place we are tonight, do you know?”  I asked.  There was an immediate hesitation.

“That’s why I called, actually.”   

I tried not to let any disappointment leak into my voice. “What’s up?” 

“I can’t go out tonight, something came up.”  

I closed my eyes and stifled a sigh. “Something?” 

“Yeah,” he said, then nothing else.  I nodded at the no one that was there with me and made myself smile.

“Right.  That’s fine.”

There were a few heartbeats of silence on the phone. “Are you sure?” 

“Mmhm, I’ll just call someone else.”  Then I hung up before he heard something in my voice that I didn’t want him to hear.  I sat there for a few moments, staring at the floor.  Was this because of last night?  I just couldn’t shake that memory; it had been hooked into my mind all day.  And what do you know, him cancelling had brought it back with a vengeance.  I took a few deep breaths, picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hey Izzy.  Get dressed, we’re going out.” 

Chapter 3

Isobel and I walked into the bar together, our arms linked.  She looked fabulous, as she always did, but her face said that she was in misery.

“Why are we doing this again?”  Isobel asked, looking around.

“Because you need to get out and be happy again.  We are two single women and we are going to do something or someone fun tonight.”  I grinned.  Isobel rolled her eyes.

“Is this about Patrick?  Because you can totally prove that you’re not all lovey dovey with him without dragging me along,” she said.  I shot Izzy a look.

“This has nothing to do with Patrick.”  Though every fiber in my being was screaming that it did.  Isobel shrugged.

“Fine.  I’m going to get a drink.”  She let go of my arm and walked off towards the bar.  I wasn’t lying, she did need to get out.  Sulking in the house about Ryan wasn’t healthy for her.  But tonight had been more about me getting out even though Patrick had cancelled on me, and I was going to prove to him, to her and to myself that there was nothing there but a physical relationship.

“Well hello beautiful,” a deep voice said as a man came up behind me and caught my attention.  He was very handsome, clearly younger and seemed to be completely enthralled with me.  He’d do just fine.

“Hello handsome.  Care to buy me a drink?”  I slipped my arm around his.

~~~

Hours later, after Isobel had gotten annoyed  watching me ‘flirt with every guy in the place’, according to her observations, and taken a cab home, I arrived back at my place with Marcus in tow.

Marcus was 22, though his confidence made it something that didn’t really matter. He was tall, muscular and had a very smooth, dark chocolate tone to his skin.  He was very handsome and he knew it and played it to his advantage.  That was probably why he’d thought he was coming home with me.  But he hadn’t played me; I had no intention of giving him more of my attention than simply tonight.

The problem came when we lay together in my bed.  As he kissed his way down my body, all I could think about was how well Patrick did that.  When he pulled me towards him, all I could think about was how much I’d rather it was Patrick pulling me.  And when he kissed me…

“Hey. Marcus, wake up.”  I swatted at him.  He’d fallen asleep right after, and it had only taken me six minutes to decide I wanted him to go.

“Hm?” he said, lazily.

“Get up.  You can’t stay the night, you have to go home.” It was probably a little harsh, but I really wanted him out of my place.

“What?” he said, sitting up.

“Go home.”

He widened his eyes. “Seriously?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Get out or I’ll put you out,” I said.  Marcus sighed and got up out of the bed, getting himself dressed.

“Can I at least have your number before my walk of shame?” 

“Look, I had a great time, but this was it.  This was all there was ever going to be.”   

Marcus looked a little down, but nodded his understanding, picked up his wallet and keys from the table, and walked out of the bedroom.  I swept up the comforter from the bed and wrapped it around myself to walk him to the door, and saw him off with a wave.  Then, I closed the door, wandered into the kitchen and pulled down a glass to get a drink.  The wine bottle was hovered over the glass when someone knocked at the door.  I frowned and put the bottle down, walking to the door still wrapped in my comforter, thinking maybe Marcus left something.  But it wasn’t Marcus.

“I see you found something to do with your night.”  Patrick said.  I stood there like a deer in the headlights for a bit, stuck.  Then I shook my head free.

“You cancelled on me.  Why show up if ‘something’ came up?”  I turned and walked back into the kitchen, returning to my quest of getting a glass of wine.

“Don’t change the subject, who was that?”  Patrick asked, following me into the kitchen.

“Marcus,” I said, after taking a sip.

“Marcus?” he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe I’d just said that.

“Yes, Marcus.  That is who that was.” 

“What was he doing here?”  There was hurt in his eyes, and I frowned.  Was he hurt?  Weren’t we just a sometimes thing?  If so, why was he hurt?  Better yet, why was I?

“Leaving,” I finally answered his question.

“And here you are, naked,” he said, his voice hard.  For some reason that made me angry.

“Why do you care?  Remember, I’m not your girlfriend or anything, we’re just a fling sometimes.  That’s why you can just call and tell me never mind on a whim when we have plans.” 

“Is that was this is about?  You, acting out because you want to be in my life that way?” he yelled back.  My blood was boiling.

“Did you really just say that to me?  You ignorant ass, you act like you don’t lo…” Nope, that stopped me.  That word was not about to come out of my mouth.  Patrick blinked at me, shocked.  But I shook my head, put down the glass and pointed.

“Get out.” 

“What?” Patrick responded, raising his voice.

“I said get the hell out!”  I pushed him towards the door.

“Jacinta…” he started, but I shoved him into the hallway and slammed the door shut before I could hear what he had to say.  I bundled that comforter around me, fell to my knees there in the hallway and sat.  Just sat.  There was nothing else to do.

Chapter 4

It had been a week.  A long, painfully excruciating week, since I’d talked to Patrick.  I’d gone and spent time with Al and Charlotte, and finally told her all of what happened.  She said I should call him, that he was a guy, and his pride would probably keep him from calling me.  I rejected that idea immediately; why in the world should I chase him?  But it had been a week, and I was losing my resolve not to make the first move.  That was how I’d ended up spending Saturday with Izzy and Char at Char’s house.  We’d turned on the grill and Isobel, who was a master on the grill, was cooking steaks since Joey was out doing a photo shoot.

“You still haven’t called him, have you?”  Charlotte asked.  Al sat in my lap, doing his best to fit his entire fist in his mouth, which normally would have cracked me up.  Except I hadn’t even noticed him looking up at me with that infectious grin on his face.

“No,” I said with a sigh.  Al said something in gibberish and I grinned and made a face at him.

“You’re tearing yourself up, just talk to him,” Char said.  I smiled slightly.

“This isn’t Keith, Jacinta,” Isobel said.  I jerked.  Izzy didn’t pull any punches, did she?

Keith had been a boyfriend from college.  Originally, our group of besties had been Charlotte, Isobel, me and a girl named Patricia.  Pat and I had actually been friends already when we met the others and became a foursome.  Until one night, we’d all gone to Pat’s dorm around dinner time, on her birthday.  We were going to take her out, but we’d gotten there 30 minutes before we were scheduled to, with a surprise cake and gifts.  We giggled our way to her dorm room, counted to three and threw the door open, screaming happy birthday and laughing… momentarily.  There on the floor, lay Pat.  Between her legs lay Keith.  My heart was ripped from my chest; I dropped everything and ran out of that room.  Isobel and Charlotte found me twenty minutes later, behind a building on the other side of campus, sitting alone and crying.  It had ruined me.

“That’s not fair,” I muttered.

“Yes, it is,” Isobel replied.  “You avoid getting emotionally involved with any man because you don’t want to be hurt again, I get that.  But you won’t even have friends that are guys, it’s insane.  You have to let it go, Jacinta.  It’s not fair to make another man pay for Keith’s mistake.” 

“Sometimes…”  I started, then stopped.

“Sometimes what?”  Charlotte asked.

“Sometimes, Isobel makes too much sense.  It hurts when she does that,” I said.  Charlotte grinned and laid her head on my shoulder as Al blew a raspberry at me.

“Yeah, I feel the same way, little dude.”  I held him close.

~~~

I sighed as I slowly walked up to the front door of Patrick’s house.  I’d had numerous conversations with myself on my way out there, and almost turned back twice.  But then, I’d hear Izzy telling me not to make him pay for Keith’s mistakes, and Char telling me not to let my pride get in the way.  That was how I’d ended up actually arriving here.  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and made myself push the doorbell.  My eyes opened just as the door did, and just as I started to open my mouth and smile… I was pissed again.

“May I help you?”  A skinny, bubbly red head answered the door, her hair pulled up into a haphazard ponytail and wearing nothing but Patrick’s tee shirt.  I even knew where he’d gotten that shirt.  There was a barrage of colorful language at the back of my throat, begging to be spewed all over that poor girl, but I closed my mouth.  This wasn’t her fault.  Instead, I closed my lips, and smiled.

“Jasmine, who is…”  Patrick came around the corner of the wall and stopped dead there in the hallway as soon as he saw me.  My smile faded, and I turned and walked back down the steps.  I heard his feet running behind me about the time that I got to my car.  He hadn’t called out, probably because he knew that wouldn’t stop me.  I was just fast enough to slam the driver side door shut just as he reached it.  He tugged at the handle, but it was locked.  Instead, I calmly put on my seat belt as he knocked on the window, turned up the radio and drove the hell away from that house.

Chapter 5

Hours later, I sat on the couch, several beers in my system as I watched a movie about something that involved dragons.  I wasn’t even 100% sure what was going on, but it was beautifully made and the lead male was gorgeous.  There was a knock at the door that had been going on for about five minutes that I was ignoring, but it seemed to be getting more insistent instead of less.  Finally, I stood and shuffled to the door, grumbling.

“What,” I said against the door.  I didn’t even know who it was, I just knew that I didn’t want to see anyone right then.

“Jacinta, open the door,” Patrick’s voice said gently through the door.  I snorted a laugh.

“Hell no.”  I turned and started walking back into the living room.  He could stand out there all night for all I cared.  But he didn’t start knocking again.  Instead, he called.  Repeatedly.

“Geez, what, Patrick?  Is it not clear that I am in no way ready to talk to you right now?” I said, finally answering the phone.

“I’m not leaving.”  

I shrugged. “Then don’t leave, I don’t care.” 

“Are you really going to leave me out here all night?” he asked.  I laughed.

“I’m not leaving you anywhere, you don’t live here.  Go home,” I said.  Patrick sighed heavily through the phone.

“Jacinta, please.”

“No.” 

“I just want to talk.” 

“No.” 

“I’ll start singing at the top of my lungs.  I’ll sing your name over and over again until you let me in, or I will embarrass the living hell out of you,” he said.  I stopped, narrowing my eyes as if he could see the evil look that I was giving him.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I hissed.  I heard him clear his throat, before belting out my name over and over again and sending me tripping over the back of the couch and running to the door.  I flung it open, seeing red and grabbed the back of his shirt, jerking him inside and shutting the door as quickly as I could.

“What in the holy hell is wrong with you?” I said.

“You wouldn’t let me in,” Patrick said.  I frowned and walked past him, on the way to the kitchen to get some iced tea.  I’d had enough alcohol for the night.

“I should have called the cops and said that you were disturbing the peace.  Damn, I wish I’d thought of that before I pulled you in here,” I said, more to myself than to him.

“Can we talk please?” he asked, following me.  I turned with my glass and walked back into the living room, settling on the couch.

“I’m watching a movie,” I said.  Patrick looked frustrated.  Funny.  He walked around the couch and stood between me and the television.

“Jacinta,” he said.  I rolled my eyes.

“I can’t see.”

“Talk to me.”

“About what?” I snapped.

“About us,” he said. I gave him a murderous look.

“What us?” I asked.  Patrick sighed and sat down.

“Look, as much as neither of us wants to admit to it, there is clearly an us,” he said.  I frowned.

“If there was an us, there is not now.”  I crossed my arms.  He looked up, his face annoyed.

“You slept with that Michael person first.” 

“Marcus,” I corrected him.

“Whatever,” 

“And then you slept with bouncy red head.  What, does that make us even or something?  Is that was this is about?” I asked.  Patrick threw his hands up into the air.

“No!  I didn’t sleep with Jasmine to even the score, I slept with her to forget you,” he almost screamed it at me.  I stopped.

“You… slept with…”  And then I stopped.  Why had I dragged Isobel out that night, and brought Marcus home with me even though I didn’t really have any genuine interest in him?  To forget that Patrick stood me up.

“Yes, I did,” he said while I was still relatively stuck in thought.  I stood up and walked over to him.

“And did it work?”  I asked.  Patrick’s angry look softened.

“No.  I tried, but all I wanted was you.  You were all I could think about even with another woman in my bed.”  That sounded familiar.

“Patrick I…”  He kissed me, his arms wrapped tightly around me as he lifted me off of my feet and pressed himself against me with an almost painful amount of force.

I felt him start walking, carrying me down the hallway and through the door to my bedroom, before gently placing me down and hovering over me.

“Wait a minute, we’re arguing,” I said, though most of me wasn’t really on board with the statement.  Patrick stood over me, whipping off his shirt before burying his face in the side of my neck, his teeth biting down gently on my skin.

“You can continue arguing if you’d like.  I won’t deny that I want you anymore,” he whispered.  Geez, he felt good.  He felt like I fit in his arms and he in mine.  Like we matched.  His lips kissed all the argument right out of me.

“Damn it,” I hissed softly.  Patrick smiled, and turned off the lamp.

~~~

A few hours later, Patrick and I lay in each other’s arms in silence.  And there was that warm, happy afterglow that I only had with him.  I’d missed that.

“So what now?” he asked.  I looked up at him with a small sigh.

“I don’t know.” 

“Neither do I.  But, I know that knowing that you slept with that guy made me want to strangle the life out of him,” he said.  I giggled.

“Patrick, were you jealous?”  His face flushed a little and he cleared his throat.

“What about you with Jasmine, hm?” I shut up.

“That’s what I thought,”he said, a tease in his voice.

“For now, since we aren’t sure what to do, can we agree not to see other people until we figure out what to do?”  I asked.

“I can agree to that,” he said.  I smiled; something about that made me feel happy.

“Okay.  Me too.” I said.

“Good.”

“Good.”