Choose Me (25 page)

Somehow I was unofficially appointed the DJ, which gave me a chance to get away from the couples whenever the discs needed
changing on the five-disc CD stereo. Adam and I had similar music tastes like seventies’ funk and early Prince, but he also
had a lot of CDs by jazz artists whom I had never heard of, even though I liked the genre. The only gospel album I saw was
Yolanda Adams. I inspected the few framed photos in his entertainment center: a picture of him with his mother and sister
at his college graduation; one of his sister and her children against a Christmas background; and one of his two little brothers,
Justin and Ricky, taken at Six Flags Great America. There was none of his father.

“You’re doin’ good, Mizz DJ,” Adam commented when he came in to check on me.

“I can’t find any of your Chapman’s,” I told him.

He sat down next to me on the floor and hunted through the racks. “They’re in here somewhere. They can’t all be missing.”
He began pulling out handfuls of CD cases, at first skimming through them slowly, then searching like a madman. “I had four
or five of them. They can’t—”

Then he stopped as if suddenly remembering where they were, or rather, who might have taken them. After Victor and I split
up, he took my Celia Cruz CDs, not because he liked her music, but because he knew how much I did and he thought I was going
to beg him for them.

“Alphabetical order usually works,” I told him.

“Oh, like your library of books,” he kidded.

I looked at him puzzled and then remembered that he
had
been in my house. He met my eyes and then we both looked away at the same time. I sensed that he was remembering the same
thing: the kiss. When I returned my gaze, he acted as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know if he should.

“Hey!” Luciano yelled from the balcony. “Come out here, you lovebirds! I’m about to make a toast.”

Adam flashed a vicious look at Luciano who had already turned his back. I got up from the floor slightly self-conscious.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, as we walked to the balcony.

“How old did you say he was?” I asked flippantly to lessen Luciano’s adolescent remark.

Adam smirked, but I could tell he was just as bothered by the comment.

Luciano threw his arm around Adam’s shoulders and shook him as soon as he stepped onto the balcony. “I just wanted to say
that this dude,
this
dude, is the best kind of friend anybody can ever have,” Luciano said. It was evident by his speech and his narrowed eyes
that he was slightly drunk. “Whatever you need, he’s always there for you. Except he doesn’t keep enough food in the house.”

“Enough for me,” Adam said sarcastically, looking a little embarrassed and scratching the back of his neck.

“One of these days, this man’s going to make some woman a perfect husband, a little
too
perfect, I think. The man even cleans his own place,
and
cooks. But that’s the way ladies like ’em. Faithful, affectionate, submissive—just like a dog, right, Dawg?”

Another uncomfortable silence ensued, followed by the clearing of throats and averting of eyes. The music was flowing, so
there was no excuse to leave the room this time. I finally met Maya’s eyes and I gave her a look that said,
This is the man you want to he with?
When she turned away, I knew she read my mind.

Adam nudged Luciano’s arm off his shoulder and shook his head. I squinted at the skyline. I was ready to go home.

“Get away from that railing,” Jade said, pulling Luciano away from Adam. “Before Adam pushes you over.”

“I’m just messing with you, bruh,” Luciano protested over his shoulder, as he was led inside.

“Whatever,” Adam said, putting out the embers in the grill. I waited for him to look at me so he could see my empathetic expression,
but he didn’t glance up for a long time.

For the remainder of the evening, I had succeeded in steering clear of Luciano, then, just as I was about to leave, I went
to the bathroom and almost ran into him exiting. As he passed me, he flashed me a forced smile, but I stared straight ahead
like he was invisible.

In keeping with the decor of the rest of the apartment, Adam’s bathroom was black, white, and gray, with splashes of red in
the towels and accessories, and just as immaculate. I wondered if he had a cleaning lady or if he really did his own housekeeping.
I couldn’t resist peeking into the medicine cabinet, where I found the expected shaving products and equipment, hair oil,
and several expired prescription bottles: naproxen sodium, Tylenol with codeine, and Vicodan. From my vast history with analgesics,
I knew they were strong pain medications.

When I came out of the bathroom, I was startled to find Luciano leaning against the opposite wall.

“Can I speak to you for a minute?” he asked.

I stood in the bathroom doorway, away from him, and crossed my arms and waited, my face impassive.

“I just wanted to apologize for the crack I made about Ricans and beans. It was out of line. Even though I was kidding.”

I wasn’t planning to apologize but since he was being civilized, or at least pretending to, I decided to meet him halfway.
“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have snapped on you.”
But I’m glad I did,
I thought wickedly.

“I asked Maya to invite you because I wanted us to get to know each other better. It’s important for her that we get along.
For some reason. She doesn’t want you to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I said, which was the truth. I didn’t like the way he added “for some reason.” Like he didn’t care one
way or another if I liked him or not. At least the feeling was mutual.

“You don’t like me very much.”

“I don’t know you.”

“Exactly. If you knew me, you’d know that I care a lot about Maya.”

“Well, I
love
her. And I don’t want her to make a mistake she’ll regret just because she wants to get back at her husband.”

“Is that what you think she’s doing? I knew Maya before she met Alex.”

For some reason, hearing my brother-in-law’s name coming out of Luciano’s mouth really bothered me. He was getting too familiar.
“I knew Maya way before she met you.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked down at me, breathing hard through his nose like a bull about to charge. I got the feeling
that he was the kind of man who would hit a woman if he thought he could get away with it. I reminded myself that he was inebriated
and that I didn’t really
know
him and those two circumstances together could lead to unpredictable consequences. But I didn’t allow him to intimidate me
and I held his glaring eyes with my own.

“You know, Adam’s a real nice guy. I hope he rubs off on you. Maybe if you start concentrating on your own love life, you
can let your sister handle her own.”

“Hey, you guys talking about me?” Maya teased, as she slipped behind us and linked her arms into each one of ours, dragging
us into the living room area. “Did we make up? Are we getting to know each other?”

“Oh, yeah,” Luciano said sarcastically.

“Mm-hmm,” I echoed.

It was getting late but everyone else was settling down in the living room to watch a movie on DVD. I didn’t know about Adam,
but I was not about to sit down among three couples and ignore the sexual energy as they all stole secret looks or touches.
I announced that I had to get home and feed King, not to mention I still had some office work to do before Monday rolled around.
As I said my farewells, Adam pulled me onto the balcony.

“I saw you and Luciano talking earlier,” he said. “He didn’t get out of line, did he?”

“No. He apologized, I apologized. We’re not friends, but we don’t hate each other.” I didn’t mention Luciano’s comment about
Adam rubbing off on me or his suggestion that I concentrate on my own love life, since I didn’t think anything would be gained
from disclosing this information.

“I’m sorry about that. He can be a jerk sometimes. Especially when he’s drinking.”

“I’m just sorry he’s your friend. You deserve better friends.”

He handed me a blank envelope, which wasn’t sealed. I pulled out two tickets to the Danté concert in a couple of weeks. “Where
did you get these?”

“I was scanning
The Reader
last week and I ran across the ad.”

“Thanks. Maya heard they were coming to Chicago. She was the one who introduced me to them. She’s going to love this. How
much do I owe you?”

“Well, I thought we …” Adam started, and then I realized that he hadn’t bought the tickets for Maya and me.

“Oh, you got these for … you and me?” I was embarrassed and I could tell by his look that he was just as uncomfortable.

“No, I mean—if you want to go with your sister …”

“No. I want … we can go. I just thought you didn’t really like the music. You said you couldn’t understand the words.”

“I like the music. I said I couldn’t understand a lot of what they say, but I like it.”

“Okay. Let’s go. How much were the tickets?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I want to pay for mine.”

He scoffed. “Do you always have to be so … such a feminist? Do you think I expect something in return? I don’t. I’m not the
kind of man who keeps a tab on the amount of money I spend on a woman.”

“I’m not a feminist,” I objected. “I just feel better if I pay my share. That’s the way my mother raised me.”

“Well, my mama taught me that a gentleman always pays.”

“That only goes if you’re dating. Or in a relationship.”

“Fine,” he said curtly. “Twenty bucks. It’s a fund-raiser.”

“You’re not mad, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” he snapped, but it was obvious he was. “I just saw the ad and I thought this would be something you’d enjoy—”

“And like a typical woman, I ruined a nice gesture.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Look, I think we just need to establish some rules up front so we know where we stand. So we don’t misunderstand each other.”

“Like?”

“Like, we have to decide whether we’re going to be friends doing things every once in a while, or if we’re going to date.”

“I think we’ve gone beyond friendship, don’t you? Friends don’t kiss like we did. I mean, we obviously feel something more
than friendship. Right?”

I clasped my hands together, but he grabbed them apart and held them. Surprised by his sudden touch, I looked quickly toward
the balcony’s glass doors and saw Jade turn from the TV screen to glance over at us curiously. We were far enough away so
we couldn’t be heard, but I still felt self-conscious because we were in plain sight.

“Am I right? Eva?”

“I told you, that kiss—”

“I’m not just talking about the kiss,” he implored. He took a couple of steps away from the windows so the others couldn’t
see us, pulling me with him and steering me against the brick wall. My hands started tingling with anxiety and I pressed my
fingernails into the palms to stop the feeling. I couldn’t meet his eyes so instead I looked at the scar on his chest. I didn’t
like being so close to him and yet, I could feel my heart quicken. It wasn’t like when we were in the bathroom and the kiss
happened so suddenly. Then, I didn’t know what to expect. Now, I knew exactly what could happen. He placed one hand above
me on the wall and swept off my hat with the other hand, flicking it on the table like a Frisbee. Then he took a strand of
my hair and began to twirl it. I could smell his musk cologne mixed with charcoal and barbecue sauce. He smelled so good.
I bit my top lip, then the bottom, hard, to keep myself in check.
Set a guard over my mouth
… He leaned in and I tensed up, pressing my head against the wall.
Keep watch over the door of my lips
…

“Adam …”

He slipped the shades slowly down my nose and tossed them on the patio table. “The sun set an hour ago.”

“If we’re going to date, you have to realize …” I informed him, slowly losing ground, “… that I’m serious about my celibacy.”

He bent his head, gently parting my lips with his bottom one, and then he began probing the inner crevices of my mouth like
he was searching for something he had lost. When his tongue found mine, a tide of desire washed through my body. Before I
had a chance to protest or kiss him back, he pulled back.

“You asked me if I could be with a woman without having a sexual relationship,” he began quietly. “The answer is, ‘I don’t
know.’ I’ve never had that kind of a relationship with a woman. Every woman I’ve been with, I’ve gone to bed with. You said
you can’t be in a relationship that may not lead to marriage, but you don’t know if you ever want to get married again. I
know
I’m not ready for marriage. Eventually, I do want to get married, but not for a while.”

He was still twirling my hair around and around his finger, until his hand reached my scalp. Something told me I should take
my hair back before he started to massage my scalp, make me weak like he did before. I reached up and took hold of his wrist,
but I didn’t push him away.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I met you. Those are my honest feelings. Now it’s your turn,” he continued.

As he spoke, all kinds of thoughts ran through my head. How incredibly smooth he was, how everything he was saying would have
made the average woman melt, how he was only telling me what he thought I wanted to hear. My first instinct was to challenge
him, to let him know I wasn’t the average woman; my second was to believe him and be completely honest with him in return.
But how did I know he was telling the truth? I went with my first instinct.

“You say you’re being honest, but how do I know for sure—”

“Oh, my God!” He released my hair and slapped the brick wall with his other hand.

I was momentarily taken aback by his anger and his use of the Lord’s name in vain, so I ducked under his arm to move away
from him, where the balcony’s five-foot-high railing and wall met. Even though heights made me dizzy, at that moment, I felt
safer being close to the railing four flights above ground level than being near him.