His phone buzzed, and I instantly withdrew my energy. Was it his son’s mother again or what? Either way, I didn’t take well to the shit. It was supposed to be our time together, and I knew it was not his fault for the interruptions, but damn, he should have put his phone on do not disturb while with me.
While he stood slightly away from the blanket, taking the call, I ear hustled. It sounded like a business call, so I guessed it was okay. I still pouted, though, with my lips poked out, and I had my arms folded. He needed to get the point. A couple of minutes passed, and when he turned around and saw my disposition, he came back over fast.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You and that phone are what’s wrong.”
“Okay. Let’s get this squared away right here, right now. What do you need me to do?”
Ugh. I hated how he was quick to face an issue head-on. But then again, I loved it.
“That phone of yours is giving me the blues. When we’re together, I would appreciate it if calls were silenced or your phone is placed on do not disturb because mine is.”
“Consider it done. My shit is silenced. Anything else?”
“No, baby. Thank you for doing that.”
“Bring your ass here.”
He sat back down on the blanket. That time, he sat behind me, positioning me in between his legs. He pulled my body backinto his chest. The butterflies came back again, and my attitude drifted right away.
“Here. Let’s try this. I’ll make a toast.” He poured a little of the wine from the first bottle into both of our glasses and handed one of them to me.
“Cheers.”
“To what?”
“To us, beautiful.”
My heart swelled with emotion.
“Cheers, Dre.” I raised my glass up to his.
We both drank our wine flights and enjoyed each other. I couldn’t deny his patience and the way he cared about how things affected me. No man besides my dad, and sometimes not even him, cared about how things made me feel. He always told me not to deal with feelings. I couldn’t help it. I was a strong-minded and emotional woman, and Dre would have to understand, like he had been doing. And for that, I would reward him repeatedly… however and whenever if we kept up like this. I smirked to myself.
We’d been backfrom the day trip to Martha’s Vineyard for about a week, and our schedules conflicted so much I actually hadn’t seen Lyra since. We spent the night together at her place once we landed. The next morning, she had an early flight, and I had someone to provide security for her early that afternoon. We had spent a few minutes on the phone every day since, and of course, we texted more often than not, but that shit wasn’t enough for me. I needed her in my presence ASAP.
I finally got around to seeing Junior’s senior heads when he brought them over when he spent the night the other day. I drove him back home and ended up having to set a clear boundary with Stephanie because I didn’t want Lyra to think anything was going on between us outside of our son. I pulledinto her driveway, and she came outside like she’d always done. Junior hopped out and dapped me up then headed in the house while she lingered.
“Thanks for bringing him back. You’re looking good these days, too, by the way,” she said, casually throwing it out as if it wasn’t a flirtatious remark.
“Thank you, Stephanie, but let me stop you right there. The other day when you called me to let me know about Junior’s pictures, I didn’t mean to upset you or anything like that. I was on a date, and I just want to clarify that you can send a text before you call next time. And if it’s an emergency, then I have no issues with you calling, but if it’s something that can be texted beforehand, then text me. Is that fine?” I explained.
“Understood, Dre. I’m glad to see you moving in this direction. You deserve happiness.”
“Thanks, Steph. So do you. Tell Junior to holla at me later.”
“Will do.” She smiled and patted the door of my truck as she walked off and back into her house.
I knew in the back of my mind she probably didn’t want to hear that shit, but it needed to be said. And that was okay.
I stopped by my office to grab paperwork that needed to be signed, and I didn’t have another client to service until the next night, so I called Lyra to see what was up. The phone rang a few times before she picked up.
“Hey, babe,” she answered. The subtle and sexy voice of hers bricked me up damn near every time.
“I miss you, beautiful. Please tell me you’re not flying in the next twelve hours.”
“And I miss you. I’m not scheduled to fly, but there is a possibility of being called in to lead a flight. Just letting you know,” she asserted.
