“You really thoughtyou were going to come in here and take all of my money, huh?” Sincere asked as he shot another perfect shot into the basketball hoop.
I had the genius idea that it would be a good idea to add a little bit of money on the line while we gamed. But I was banking on him not being too good at many of the games since he never did anything other than work.
“Honestly, yeah. Every time my dad and I come, I take all his money,” I said, laughing.
“That’s probably because he lets you win,” he said, laughing as we grabbed our stuff and headed to the next game we wanted to play.
“He does not! I’m just that good.”
“I hate to break it to you, ma, but you’re not. He definitely lets you win. But I will still give you an A for effort,” he said, laughing as we sat down in the racing car chairs.
“Oh, whatever. I only owe you $20 so far.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want your money. I have a better way for you to pay that debt,” he said, smirking as we selected our players.
I was sure that my cheeks had turned red from the way my insides heated up from his words. The entire day, the only thing that I could think about was what would happen with our relationship now that we’d crossed the line of no return. Flirting and stealing glances at each other was one thing. Hell, knowing that the attraction was there was one thing. But, finally having sex and exploring each other’s bodies in ways that should’ve been illegal, changed things, and I knew there was no going back to how things used to be.
“Can I get you two more drinks?” The waitress asked.
“No, I’m good,” I said as Sincere shook his head no as well.
“Okay, let me know if you two need anything.”
After losing about ten or so more games, I decided it was time for us to come eat. Maybe I needed to get some food in me to help me focus better. I refused to accept the fact that he was telling the truth and that my father had been letting me win all these years. I truly thought I was goated in here, and I was showing that I didn’t even deserve to be in the building.
“So, I guess we need to talk about last night, huh?” I asked, scooting away from him a little. He insisted on sitting on the same side, so I had to turn a little bit to look at him face-to-face.
“Yeah, we do.”
“I feel like there’s no going back to how things were, but I think if we continue the path we’re on, it will make things sticky for us at work. I don’t want to ruin our work relationship because we work so well together. And I definitely don’t want to ruin my chances at securing that job you promised me. I only have a few more weeks left as your assistant.”
“Damn, has being my assistant been that bad? I feel like I’ve been cool as shit to work with,” he said, laughing.
Laughing, I replied, “No, that’s not what I meant. I’ve enjoyed almost every second of this job. I’m looking forward to more normal hours, though. You’re definitely a workaholic.”
“I’ve never had a reason not to be. Until you came around, I’ve never felt the need to take off from work. It’s not that I can’t, I just didn’t see the need to do so. And then somewhere along the line, I knew that more time at work meant more time with you, and I was always up for that.”
“See, when you say things like that, I know that we can’t work together anymore. I would really love to see where things could go with us, if you’re up to it, but I don’t think we can do that working together, Sincere.”
“And why can’t we?”
“Because people will look at us funny. I already have to deal with Beverly’s bullshit. I don’t want people thinking I slept my way into my position. I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am for that to be the perception that people have of me.”
“You worry too much about what other people think. I don’t give a fuck what other people think about us. And, even if you went to work somewhere else and they find out we’re together, they’re still going to think that. So, I say we do what the fuck we want to do regardless of what other people may or may not think.”
“You don’t think my going to work somewhere else will make things easier for us?”
“Nope, and I’m not letting that happen. I like having you around all day.”
“What if you get tired of me, huh? Seeing me all day at the office and then after work on some days, that’s a recipe for disaster, right?”
I didn’t know if I was trying to convince him or myself more with my question. A huge part of me wanted this to work out, and the smaller part of me was telling me to run as far away from him and a relationship with him as fast as I possibly could. And both parts were playing tug-of-war with me and my heart.
Scooting closer to me, he pulled my face to his as he kissed my lips. He kissed me as though we were the only two people in the restaurant. He didn’t care who could see, snap a picture, or who felt uncomfortable. And, if that wasn’t enough to melt my heart, it was the way that he kissed me that did. He kissed me like he was claiming me. I felt like with that kiss, he marked me as his, and what was understood didn’t have to be spoken.
Breaking our kiss, he said, “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of you. And, if it makes you feel better, we won’t be spending that much time together at work. You won’t be my assistant anymore, so we’ll have our free time. But, regardless of what excuses or fears you let your mind come up with about why we shouldn’t do this shit, it doesn’t matter to me. I’m not letting up on you, Kenedi, so you may as well get used to having a nigga in your life permanently.”
Smirking, I asked, “So, are you asking me to be your girlfriend or something, Mr. Hill?”