Now that I thought about it, I believed he and Ashanti were in cahoots. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had been giving him something other than money.
Kenzi’s words rang in my head like an alarm to wake my mind up.
Just try for me, Brother. Just try. I need you to get it right for my babies and me.
The look in her eyes made my chest tight because I wanted to be right and do right for her. Her soon-to-be kids needed an uncle who wouldn’t fly off the handle if they happened to be some bad-ass kids. I wanted them to love being with their uncle and not be scared of him.
“Fuck it,” I said, then got out of my car and headed inside. As soon as I stepped in, the scent of something floral hit my nostrils. The air smelled clean, like the smell of a brand-new car off the lot. The floors were so shiny that I could see my reflection in them.
Pictures of famous doctors, black leaders, and African art adorned the walls. Plants and flowers were strategically placed around the lobby with white walls and cream and brown furniture. There was an oval-shaped desk that sat high, and on it were the last names of the therapists, I assumed, since Kenzi’s last name was on it.
Abara, Blake, and Miller. M.D.
Sis’s office was dope as shit, and I smiled on the inside, knowing she did exactly what she had set out to do.
I walked further toward the desk and saw the receptionist wrapping up a call. She looked up at me and smiled.
“Hi, do you have an appointment?”
“Yeah, with Doctor Blake.”
“Name?”
“Ghana . . . Abara.”
“One moment.” She picked up the phone and pressed a button, spoke briefly, then hung up. “She’s waiting for you. Go down this hall, and it’s the last door on the left.”
I gave her a small nod and headed down the hall she instructed me to. My heart pounded a little because I hated therapists. But I knew I had to do this shit for Kenz.
When I made it to the door, it opened, and instantly, my racing heart came to a stop when I locked eyes with the woman known as Doctor Blake. This woman looked like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night, fresh breath after brushing and rinsing with mouthwash, or like an accomplishment after completing something you worked hard for.
My eyes traveled from her soft, honey-blonde curls to her honey-colored eyes. Her skin was the color of caramel and looked soft and well-moisturized. Her pink lips were pouty, with the bottom one slightly smaller than the top. Her round face held two dimples that appeared when she smiled at me.
I didn’t think I’d ever seen a woman this beautiful who grabbed my attention this quickly.
Shit! This therapy shit might not be too bad after all.
Ms. Blake was beautiful as fuck. She had me imagining what a baby would look like coming from her.
I bet she tastes like Starburst.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Abara. Please come in and sit wherever you’d like.”
I walked inside, looking around her office. Everything inside looked like her—soft, beautiful, and quintessential. Her beauty had me tongue-tied. I was scared to speak, thinking that if I opened my mouth, the negative thoughts that plagued my mind every day would taint this angelic being. So, without speaking, I moved to the chair at a table that she had set up by the window.
“Would you like a bottle of water?”
I nodded, still unable to open my mouth.
I watched her walk over to her desk, round ass, slim waist, wide hips on full display. My dick pressed against my jeans as I tried to remain respectful and not turn on my charm to take her ass down. She grabbed two bottles of water, then walked over and sat on the other side of the table. The sun kissed her skin, making her illuminate, further turning my lust into need.
I don’t think this shit gon’ work.
“So, let’s start with an icebreaker. My name is Doctor Autumn Blake. I’ve been working in the medical field for seven years now. I’ve helped some of the best people and some of the worst. Just to let you know, I’m not one of those therapists who’s going to make you do anything you’re not ready to do.
“If you want to sit in silence for the whole hour, then we can do that. Just know that, to find the median, I need a starting point to work with. So, you can start off by telling me something about you. It can be something good or what you struggle with, whichever you’d prefer.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed those pretty-ass legs. She took a sip of her water, then gave me a light smile.
I sat up and cleared my throat. “Where’s your notepad? Ain’t you supposed to write down shit I say to evaluate me?”