Laying It Out

*JAMIRA*

It’s been a few days since Eric gave me his phone number. I wanted to use it, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I had told him it was a one-time thing, so why can’t I get his handsome face out of my mind and why does my body crave his touch?

The ride home was torture because I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Not only had I been thinking about him, but I hadn’t really seen him either after the first week.

I kept reminding myself that he has a kid and a family, and that I should get him out of my head and try to fix things with Chris.

I was pleasantly surprised when I walked in the house and found dinner already prepared. It made me smile because I love Chris’ cooking. And he had gone the extra mile to create a romantic ambiance.

Could he be finally getting better?

I went to take a shower and try to wash my thoughts of Eric away. It was hard. I should be riding his face, but I was still clinging to a memory. When I got out of the shower, I pinned my damp hair up and put on something sexy in an attempt to fulfill my needs with Chris.

Dinner went well, and even the foreplay we had after he came out of the shower. I loved the way his body looked naked, like an endless stream of delicious chocolate, and the veins that ran through certain parts of his body did something to me.

But as soon as he tried to penetrate me, I couldn’t relax. I wanted to, but I just couldn’t. I tried to flip the script by giving him head, but he noticed the change in my body.

He started questioning me about Eric. How did he know? It was no sense in lying about it now, right?

“Mira, don’t play dumb with me. Is the guy you left with the reason I can’t touch you?”

I stayed quiet, searching for the right words to answer his question.

“Chris… I—

By the time I tried to explain, he had already picked up his towel and gone to grab his phone.

“Is this you?” he asked as he showed me a video of us leaving the club and two pictures of us. It was as if he was there.

“Were you following me?”

“ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION JAMIRA!”

“How did you get those?”

“MIRA!”

I winced at the tone of his voice.

“Yes, it’s me.”

He got up from the bed and went to the window for a moment. Then, he turned to face me again.

“Did you fuck him?” he asked, as if he genuinely didn’t want to know the answer but felt compelled to ask.

“You don’t really want the answer to that.”

“Mira… did you… fuck him?”

My heart raced, and almost jumped out of my chest as I began to answer.

“Chris… I’m so sorry. I was drunk, and I know it was wrong.”

Tears filled his eyes. “This is why I don’t like you going out with those hoes you call friends! The one night you go out, you decide it’s a good idea to fuck someone you don’t even know!”

Here we go again, calling my friends hoes. He knew I hated that because it was like he was calling me one too. You know, considering the whole “you are who you hang with” thing.

“How did you get those?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You and I both know it does.”

“God, I’m so stupid. I should’ve known you followed him home when I checked your location and you were away from the club and didn’t come back until 6 in the goddamn morning.”

“Chris, I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“He must be one hell of a man to have you not wanting to have sex with me,” he said, his voice filled with melancholy.

He threw the phone on the bed, still unlocked. I looked down and saw that the name read Keema. My heart dropped as I tried to comprehend what else they could’ve been talking about. I couldn’t breathe at the thought of him hiding secrets as well.