The Realest Thug I Ever Loved: An African American Romance by Celeste Moore

Author:Celeste Moore [Moore, Celeste]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cole Hart Signature, LLC
Published: 2021-10-06T20:00:00+00:00

9

Fayola

I tried my best not to stare at the fine specimen of a man before me as I ate my food. He had taken us to Lumen Detroit, and I was quite impressed with the ginger-glazed salmon and sushi rice cakes that I ordered. While I made a conscious effort not to look at him, I could feel him staring at me intensely. The shit was awkward as hell because there I was eating a full course meal, and this nigga only had a drink. I wasn’t too prissy and scared to eat in front of men; however, I wasn’t entirely comfortable with him watching me stuff my face while he sipped his liquor.

After a while, I could no longer pretend that I was so engrossed in my plate that I didn’t notice him looking at me. I put down my fork and met his gaze. I couldn’t believe that my stubborn ass was about to let that man walk away. I felt tingles in the pit of my stomach as his dark, deep-set eyes stared into mine. He had a calm confidence about him, and I could tell that he was a man of prestige from his style and demeanor. His smooth brown complexion matched mine. Everything about him was perfect, from the waves in his hair, his perfectly shaped lineup, the bulging muscles in his Versace shirt, to the sexy ass mustache and goatee. His hair and facial hair were dark brown, but the bottom of his goatee was the prettiest gray.

“Damn. Why aren’t you eating? Because you sure are making it frustrating as hell with you staring down my throat with every bite,” I joked. It was my attempt to break the silence because the stare down was truly driving me crazy.

“My bad.” He smiled. That’s when I noticed just how perfect and white his teeth were. “You just so damn pretty, I can’t help it. I actually ate already. When I first pulled up on you, I had my son in the back, and we had just come from grabbing something to eat.”

“Well, why did you suggest getting food instead of a drink or something if you already ate?”

“Just because I ate, doesn’t mean that you did. Obviously, yo’ ass was hungry with the way you gobbled down your appetizer. And now you damn near swallowing that salmon instead of chewing it.” He laughed.

“Ha ha! Forget you, sir, because ain’t shit funny. How old are you?”

“How old do you think I am?”

“Well, judging from that gray on your face, I know you’re somebody’s granddaddy,” I said, delivering my own jokes back to him.

“You got jokes, huh?” he chuckled. “I mean, I ain’t nobody’s granddaddy, but I know that I’m older than you. I’m thirty-seven.”

“Damnnnnnn!” I exaggerated.

“Whatever, man,” he laughed. “How old are you? I know yo’ ass a baby though. You about to make me feel old as hell.”

“I’m twenty-six.”

“Yeah, I knew you was young as hell.”

“Stop acting like you robbing the cradle. I’m closer to thirty than I am to twenty.

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