“Because Gemini men are . . . two faced and . . . self-centered. At least the one I encountered was.”
“And I’m no different?”
“The jury is still out on that.”
“Yeah, aight. We’ll see about that,” I said, leaning over her petite frame to snatch a bag of chips out of the cabinet above her head.
“I guess we will.”
“If I’m so bad, when’s your birthday? Let me turn up my nose to your shit.”
“I’m a proud Aquarius born on February fourth. You can’t turn up your nose to an Aquarius woman. We’re literally perfect.”
“Bullshit. Ain’t no female perfect.”
“That may be true, but I’m the closest thing you’ll find.”
I scoffed. “Yeah. I think the jury’s still out on that too.”
Just the heatradiating off his body as it brushed against my ass was enough to set off the sprinklers inside my apartment. I glanced around, taking in the reality of my life. It was small, just enough for one person to live comfortably. My couch doubled as a guest bed on rare occasions when someone stayed over. Books piled high on every surface because I never managed to find time to order a new bookshelf, let alone put it together. Additional work clothes hung on a rack in the living room because my bedroom closet was too small. And now Kareem, with his broad shoulders and his life upheaval, wanted to squeeze himself into this tiny space.
“You got your chips, so can you please back your big ass up?” I managed to ask, still frozen in place.
“These the only snacks you got?”
“You should be thanking your lucky stars that you found those. They’re probably stale anyway,” I admitted.
He smacked his juicy pink lips. “Shame.”
“I’m gonna check the pantry. There might be a couple of cans of ravioli in there or something. Will that suffice, my king?” I asked, my voice littered with sarcasm as I curtsied in front of him.
“Shut yo’ ass up before I make you bend the knee forreal.”
There was something about the way his deep voice seemed to curl around every word that had me biting my lip. Did this nigga just tell me to get on my knees? And if he did, why wasn’t I offended?
Kareem was quick witted, annoyingly charming, and had a silver tongue that attracted me almost more than his physical features, but finding out he was a Gemini gave me pause. Beyoncé wasn’t lying in her “Signs” song—Gemini had a switch that could flip at any given moment. Things between us had seemed to mellow out, but something told me there was still another shoe waiting to fall.
I hadn’t managed to think of a quick retort, so I walked over to the pantry instead, effectively ignoring him. After a few seconds of complete silence, he took the hint and left the kitchen. Once he scarfed down the small bag of chips, he started to move my coffee table.
“What are you doing?” I asked, peering around the pantry door.
“I’m about to work out.”
“What? Right now? In the dark?”
“You got a million candles lit up in here right now. I can see just fine,” he said before pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it on the couch.
I’d been so mad the first time I saw him in my apartment that I hadn’t taken the opportunity to study his physique. Simply put, Kareem was cut. He had a broad, athletic build like a linebacker with tattoos all over his upper body and an eight-pack of Godiva-colored abs. He got down on the floor into a plank position, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The flames from the candles danced around him, creating a cast of warm light over his sweet melanin skin. He started doing regular pushups—two sets of thirty—then started showing off by putting one hand behind his back while looking right at me.
I instantly clenched my thighs.Oh goddamn. What is this devilish creature doing to me?I was at full blown war with my internal desires, trying to smother them. But the more I looked at him, the harder that became. With a dead cell and no telling when the power would be restored, or the storm would cease, I couldn’t phone a friend to talk my thoughts out of the gutter and knock some sense into my horny ass.
Twenty minutes later, he’d completed his workout—one-handed pushups, ab crunches, and jumping jacks—and was on his way to the bathroom to shower again. I’d tried my best to keep busy in the kitchen by wiping down countertops that didn’t need to be wiped or reorganizing the pantry in the fucking dark—anything to keep my eyes off of him. I cleaned and reorganized until I’d worked up an appetite and decided to fix myself a bowl of cereal. I didn’t want to open the fridge unnecessarily, but desperate times called for desperate matters. Besides, I didn’t know howlong the power would be out, and I wasn’t a fan of my groceries going to waste.
“You got a pretty nice shower, by the way,” he stated when he returned from the bathroom, smelling good enough to eat.
I couldn’t lie. I appreciated his dedication to good hygiene, even if he was a squatter. He’d put back on the sweatpants I’d loaned him earlier but remained shirtless. With the A/C out, I guess he figured it was too fuckin' hot to be wearing too many clothes anyway.
My lean shoulders rose and fell. “The water pressure could be a bit better, but yeah, it gets the job done.”
