#samplesunday: baby boy had grown up
hi friends. been gone for a minute, now i’m back with the jump off. first things first, i gotta say that i had no designs on writing this story…more on that later, but for now, here’s a wee sample of my forthcoming release, f*ck around and find out - a companion novella to a crowd favorite, f*ck and fall in love. this time we’re following Jane’s bestie Ebonée & her journey to happily ever after. of course we get snatches and peeks of Jane & Nigel along the way, but they’re not central to this narrative. FAAFO is now up for preorder, releasing on Friday the 26th! ok enough of my spiel, keep reading if you’re interested in getting a lil sample!
There were nearly ten years between Emory and me, so he was like my little baby as well as my little brother. With the age gap between us, however, our friend circles had never really overlapped so while I’d remembered his homeboy, I wasn’t exactly close to him, especially with them being on the tail end of elementary school when I was graduating high school. I probably couldn’t pick him up out of a lineup these days since I hadn’t seen him in so long and Emory wasn’t one for social media, so it wasn’t like I’d seen any recent pictures of Floyd via his profiles or anything. Curiosity had me doing a quick Google search of him as I made my way over to Palmer Alley and…gahdamn.
Baby boy had grown up.
Rocking just beyond shoulder length, pencil sized locs, Floyd was handsome as hell with his smooth Nutella colored skin, deep-set, almond-shaped, deep-brown-damn-near-black eyes with a gaze so intense that it felt like this picture was staring through my soul. All of that combined with an aquiline nose, full, pouty lips, and a chiseled jaw made him look like he’d been handcrafted in my wet dreams and delivered to me on a silver platter. Maybe doing my little brother this favor wouldn’t be as much of a hardship as I’d initially thought. The moment that thought crossed my mind; my phone buzzed with a text from Emory snapping me back into reality. The last thing I needed was to get wrapped up in another man any time soon.
After a disastrous marriage and an even more disastrous rebound relationship, I was on a miatus—a man hiatus. The immediate attraction I’d felt from just glancing at a picture of Floyd was out of the ordinary. I wasn’t a woman typically easily swayed by looks, preferring to get to know a man on a deeper level before giving myself over to being taken in by his level of attractiveness. And where the hell has that gotten you, I thought ruefully. Absolutely nowhere. All of that, “I’m looking for substance over everything” bullshit that I’d ascribed to had only led me to consistently getting my face broken by men who seemed to be one thing, but turned out to be a wholly different other.
I approached Palmer Alley seeing what looked like folks dispersing instead of gathering for an unveiling. Staring up at the hundreds of twinkling lights and twisted, colored metal that looked like an approximation of Santa’s Workshop in the North Pole, I pulled out my phone to double check the time. Seeing the time that Emory had sent me and noting that I still had about ten minutes before that hour struck, I was confused as hell. The installation was beautiful as I peered up at it while counting down from ten to soothe some of my irritation. It was then that I noticed that some of the elves were moving, “fixing” the toys in their possession.
“Ebonée?” I heard a male voice ask in a low timbre.
I turned and was face to face with Floyd who managed to look even finer in real life than he had in the pictures I’d seen online. Before I could open my mouth to confirm I was me, he was hauling me into him, banding his arms around me, pulling me flush against the firm chest of a man who definitely didn’t take any days at the gym off. I felt my eyelids flutter as he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, then pulled back. “You are…a sight for sore eyes,” he breathed looking down at me.
His brand of forwardness was something that usually turned me right off, but there was something about his touch that felt…familiar.
“It’s,” I squeaked before clearing my throat and continuing, “it’s good to see you too, Floyd. It’s been so long.”
Licking his lips, he murmured, “Too long.”
I raised a brow as he shook his head, chuckling.
“I was trying to come show support since your boy Emory couldn’t be here, but I guess I got the times mixed up,” I said from the comforts of a loose embrace Floyd had still held me in.
The mention of my brother’s name made him release me, setting off a feeling of some sort of loss that I quickly tamped down because what in the entire fuck, sis?
Shaking his head with a grin Floyd said, “Typical Em. That man just refuses to understand how time zones work. He definitely sent you off. We just wrapped not too long ago.”
“I cannot wait to cuss him out later,” I tutted with a roll of my eyes. “Well, I won’t keep you. It was good seeing you. And this,” I trailed off gesturing to the decorations floating above our heads, “looks amazing. How did you even come up with this idea?”
“If you know somewhere I can get a decent Old Fashioned around here, how about I tell you about it over drinks?” Floyd replied.
I pointed ahead of us. “About a block that way is my favorite happy hour spot. I’m sure they can hook you up with your Old Fashioned while we catch up.”
“Shall we?” Floyd asked, extending a hand in my direction that I looked at for a second before settling my hand into his massive one.
“Let’s.”