his manhood growing against her thigh. Every fiber of her being wanted to say fuck the date, go back upstairs to her place, and explore all of the freaky thoughts in her mind.
“I missed you,” he confessed, kissing the side of her neck.
“I missed you too,” she replied, barely able to breathe. “Now, where are we going?”
“None of yo’ business, nosey ass. Now, come on. We gotta go or we gon’ be late,” he said, walking to his side of the car.
Dylan stood for a second, stunned that he wouldn’t even open her door for her. Deciding that it wasn’t even worth it to start a fight, she opened the door herself and got in. Even though she was little perturbed by his lack of chivalry, Dylan couldn’t keep her eyes off of State during the entire ride. He possessed an animal magnetism that attracted women to him—especially Dylan. The way he smiled, tasted, and even whispered into her ear turned her on. She wondered if there would ever come a day when she wouldn’t feel this way about him. She hoped not.
Minutes later, they pulled up to The Pageant Theater. Dylan looked up at the marquee and saw that Solange Knowles and Raheem Devaughn were performing.
“You ready?”
“Are you serious? I love Raheem Devaughn. His CD The Love Experience is my shit,” Dylan beamed.
“What, you thought I forgot? Are you surprised?”
“Hell yeah, I’m surprised.” She grinned.
He got out and once again neglected to open her door.
After grabbing drinks from the bar and finding their seats, Dylan and State sat side by side, anxious for the show to begin. Once it did, they were both on their feet, clapping and cheering. Solange, being the opening act, performed first. Dylan was pleasantly surprised by how well she did. Her ’60s era Supremes-style music was on point. But Raheem DeVaughn was who she really wanted to see. When he finally came out dressed in a bad-ass Gucci tuxedo suit and bow tie singing “Guess Who Loves You More,” Dylan lost her mind.
Raheem DeVaughn was the personification of soul music for her generation. His voice was powerful, but smooth like silk and sweet like jazz. His whole entire set was good, but when he began to sing “Mo’ Better” from his latest CD, Love Behind the Melody, that’s when Dylan really had a fairytale moment. She and State had been rocking, doing their thing. When the words, “You pat me on the back and rub away the pain, ’cause you’re my baby, my darling; you’re priceless” floated into the air, he took her hand gently in his and they began to dance cheek to cheek. She knew that would be a moment she would never forget.
It was as if they were in their own world and no one else existed. She was his and he was hers. He’d never played with her heart, and the abortion was just a figment of her imagination. In his arms, Dylan felt important. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but there was something about him she just wasn’t willing to let go.
Nobody understood the connection they shared. God didn’t bring him into her life for nothing. There has to be a reason why we’re together. Maybe we are meant to be, she pondered.
After two encore performances, the concert was over. Dylan and State walked slowly down the street, stuffing their faces with hotdogs from a corner vendor.
“This is sooooooo good,” Dylan declared, taking a huge bite.
“I told you you would like it.”
“Okay, you were right. Get over yourself.” She rolled her eyes as he wiped mustard from the corner of her mouth.
“I swear if I didn’t like you so much . . .” He wrapped his arm around her neck and kissed her cheek.
“You would do what?” she responded.
“Fuck the shit outta you.”
“Well, niggah, don’t like me then,” Dylan joked.
“Be quiet.” He chuckled.
“I really had fun tonight,” she said seriously. “You really made me happy.” She hugged his waist tight.
“I try.”
“So, what now? Is the night over?”
“Nah.” He
“I missed you,” he confessed, kissing the side of her neck.
“I missed you too,” she replied, barely able to breathe. “Now, where are we going?”
“None of yo’ business, nosey ass. Now, come on. We gotta go or we gon’ be late,” he said, walking to his side of the car.
Dylan stood for a second, stunned that he wouldn’t even open her door for her. Deciding that it wasn’t even worth it to start a fight, she opened the door herself and got in. Even though she was little perturbed by his lack of chivalry, Dylan couldn’t keep her eyes off of State during the entire ride. He possessed an animal magnetism that attracted women to him—especially Dylan. The way he smiled, tasted, and even whispered into her ear turned her on. She wondered if there would ever come a day when she wouldn’t feel this way about him. She hoped not.
Minutes later, they pulled up to The Pageant Theater. Dylan looked up at the marquee and saw that Solange Knowles and Raheem Devaughn were performing.
“You ready?”
“Are you serious? I love Raheem Devaughn. His CD The Love Experience is my shit,” Dylan beamed.
“What, you thought I forgot? Are you surprised?”
“Hell yeah, I’m surprised.” She grinned.
He got out and once again neglected to open her door.
After grabbing drinks from the bar and finding their seats, Dylan and State sat side by side, anxious for the show to begin. Once it did, they were both on their feet, clapping and cheering. Solange, being the opening act, performed first. Dylan was pleasantly surprised by how well she did. Her ’60s era Supremes-style music was on point. But Raheem DeVaughn was who she really wanted to see. When he finally came out dressed in a bad-ass Gucci tuxedo suit and bow tie singing “Guess Who Loves You More,” Dylan lost her mind.
Raheem DeVaughn was the personification of soul music for her generation. His voice was powerful, but smooth like silk and sweet like jazz. His whole entire set was good, but when he began to sing “Mo’ Better” from his latest CD, Love Behind the Melody, that’s when Dylan really had a fairytale moment. She and State had been rocking, doing their thing. When the words, “You pat me on the back and rub away the pain, ’cause you’re my baby, my darling; you’re priceless” floated into the air, he took her hand gently in his and they began to dance cheek to cheek. She knew that would be a moment she would never forget.
It was as if they were in their own world and no one else existed. She was his and he was hers. He’d never played with her heart, and the abortion was just a figment of her imagination. In his arms, Dylan felt important. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but there was something about him she just wasn’t willing to let go.
Nobody understood the connection they shared. God didn’t bring him into her life for nothing. There has to be a reason why we’re together. Maybe we are meant to be, she pondered.
After two encore performances, the concert was over. Dylan and State walked slowly down the street, stuffing their faces with hotdogs from a corner vendor.
“This is sooooooo good,” Dylan declared, taking a huge bite.
“I told you you would like it.”
“Okay, you were right. Get over yourself.” She rolled her eyes as he wiped mustard from the corner of her mouth.
“I swear if I didn’t like you so much . . .” He wrapped his arm around her neck and kissed her cheek.
“You would do what?” she responded.
“Fuck the shit outta you.”
“Well, niggah, don’t like me then,” Dylan joked.
“Be quiet.” He chuckled.
“I really had fun tonight,” she said seriously. “You really made me happy.” She hugged his waist tight.
“I try.”
“So, what now? Is the night over?”
“Nah.” He
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