touched you sexually, but at no point did you say that you told her no or not to touch you again or that it was unacceptable. I noticed that you are still talking and engaging with your work-wife. So, to some degree, you’re entertaining it. And it makes me question if you know what you want. And I know, I know, you love your girlfriend. But Bro, do you love your relationship enough not to sabotage it?”
Fifteen minutes later, I’d worked through the other two letters and was finally signing off.
“Thank you for tuning in, beautiful people. This is The Single Life with Zola Patterson. Until next time!”
I turned off my camera and sat back in my chair. I wasn’t ready to leave my sanctuary yet. As my eyes fixated on the paintings that adorned my wall, a smile started to pull at the corners of my mouth. An image of Saint Anderson’s broad shoulders and muscular arms as he stretched to secure the painting to the wall flashed in my mind.
I shook it off.
It wasn’t like me to still think about a man after he didn’t make a move. It was always quite simple. He didn’t make a move; therefore, he wasn’t interested. But with Saint it had been difficult to stop thinking about him.
I took a deep breath.
It was those damn hypnotic eyes! He saw into my soul! That motherfucker imprinted on me!
Shaking my head, I giggled to myself.
Rule Number Two: Be honest about what you want.
“I wanted to explore the connection I felt with him,” I admitted out loud before correcting myself. “I want to explore the connection I felt with him.”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. If I was being honest with myself, I had to admit that I was disappointed that he didn’t ask me out or want to explore our connection. I hadn’t felt a connection like that with anyone before and I thought we were on the same page.
I want that connection.
I opened my eyes slowly and slumped in my chair. A pit in my belly started to form.
Will I be chasing the high of this connection for the rest of my life? I wondered. Is this what addiction feels like?
I sat in a shocked state for God knows how long because I didn’t like the thought of that. But then I reframed my thinking.
No. This isn’t a bad thing, I realized. This is good. I can work with this.
It was humbling to sit in my feelings, but I needed it to grow. I wasn’t going to get every man I wanted. I couldn’t think of a man who had ever piqued my interest like Saint did, but men were plentiful, and I had no doubt I’d meet another man that had that much potential.
“Oh shit!” I noticed the time and hopped to my feet. The photographer was going to arrive in a few hours, and I needed to finish cleaning and organizing.
With the music my mom used to play when I was young pumping through the speakers, I cleaned my apartment. The sprucing of my place wasn’t just for the photography session, but also for my dinner party on Saturday.
“Hey,” I answered the phone as I posed in the mirror.
“Hey beautiful,” Jeremiah greeted me.
“How are you?”
“I’m good. I’m tired. How are you?”
“I’m good. I have my photoshoot tonight so all is well. Why are you so tired?”
He sighed. “Work has been kicking my ass this week.”
“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied, sticking my leg out of the white Greek goddess dress that I planned to wear to my release party. “But I know you have a vacation next weekend, so you’ll be resting up soon enough.”
“What can I do to convince you to come with me?” he asked playfully.
I smiled. “Nothing.”
“If I would’ve known it was your release week when I booked my trip, I would’ve gotten my boys to reschedule it.”
“There was no way you could’ve known. I didn’t even know.”
“I keep offering to blow off my friends and go to your party, but you keep saying you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t.”
I knew he was hoping I would’ve changed my mind. But I didn’t.
He chuckled. “Why are you so cold, baby?”
“I’m not cold,” I laughed. “I just don’t want you to blow off your friends to come to my party.” I turned to look at my back in the mirror. “You had plans with them long before we met. But I appreciate your willingness to