Practice Makes…

My phone vibrates and lights up as soon as I get off work.

Come downtown to Mercury Room. Your name is on the list.

I’m kinda tired. I just got off work.

That wasn’t a request.

I’d say no.

But truthfully, the shit kinda turned me on, lol.

Simultaneously, my friend Katy Girl texted me. She’s the one who introduced K.B. and I.

“Girl pleeeeeeaaaaase talk to this boy so he’ll stop calling me, lol.”

So I recruit her as backup, scoop her up and go back to my house so we could get dressed. She throws on jeans and a halter.

I know I gotta do a little better than that.

Black knee length skirt, slit up the back, tight in all the right places. Black button down open to expose a black and red bra underneath, red pumps, red belt, hair swept up.
Yummy.
I’d eat me 😉

We get downtown, my name is on the list, and we walk inside. I feel his lips on the back of my neck before he announced himself. I don’t turn around.
“Its good to see you again… finally,” he says in my ear. I shift away to look into his eyes. He is angry.

Before I can say anything, he grabs my wrist hard and pulls me upstairs and into one of the VIP bathrooms. In the close confines of the bathroom I can almost feel the steam rising of him. I wait.
He exhales hard.
“You haven’t called.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Bullshit La.”
More silence.

“Am I pushing?”
“You left pushing a while back.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No problem.”
Silence.

He puts his hands on my face and draws me to him, kissing me before I can think to pull away. His massages the small of my back until I sigh into the kiss and his hands slip down to my ass. We break away after awhile, but he keeps me pressed against him like that, my hands on his chest, both of us breathing heavy. The temperature in the bathroom has gone up 20 degrees.

“I know you felt that,” he says to me. I don’t answer. He chuckles. “You are so goddamn aggravating La.” It feels good to hear him laugh. He’s looking at me now, raking back the wisps of hair that came loose during our kiss.
“Tell me something true.”
“Truthfully, you’re a stand up guy. If things were different…”
“If things were different…?”
“But we don’t live in the land of if.” I pause.

“I wish I’d met you 2 years ago.”
“But…”
“I didn’t.” I pull away. He nods, just slightly, his eyes on the floor.
“Kinda wish it was 2 years ago then.”
“Evolution never moves backwards. Butterflies never become caterpillars.”
He tucks me back under him, his chin resting on the top of my head. We’re quiet for awhile. I want to leave, but I feel like pulling away would be cruel.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. And I mean it. But I’m not apologizing for what he thinks I’m apologizing for.
“I won’t call you anymore.”
“Thank you.”
He kisses my forehead.
“At least call me and let me know when you move back to Atlanta.” I say nothing because we both know I won’t. But to say so would seem cruel as well.

After awhile, he lets me go and opens the door. I walk out, head high, shoulders square, hips swaying to the beat pouring out of the speakers. I don’t look back because I know he’s watching me leave.

Goodbyes get easier when you get enough practice.

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