Any Way the Wind Blows - E. Lynn Harris [95]
I went to the door, and I felt my heart pounding. I took a deep breath and pulled open the door. There he stood, Raymond Tyler, looking handsome with cool grape-green eyes and unblemished skin. He looked at me with a nervous, sexy smile. I looked at him in disbelief.
“Raymond, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“I came to collect my pay. You didn’t get my messages?”
“I haven’t checked my machine in a while. You called?”
“Several times.”
“Why are you here, seriously?”
“If you let me in, I’ll tell you,” Raymond said.
“Dang, I’m sorry, come on in,” I said as I grabbed hold of my towel to make sure it was tucked tight.
Raymond followed me to the living area, and we both took a seat on the sofa as I maneuvered my towel to make sure I didn’t get Raymond excited. Although the boy looked good, I knew he hadn’t come all the way from Seattle just to get a little piece.
“Be real, why are you here?” I asked.
“I was worried about you,” Raymond said seriously.
“Why? You know me. I can handle my business.”
“I’m glad to see you’re not in jail or something.”
“That’s ’cause I haven’t caught up with that mofo Bart. But trust me. His days are numbered.”
“What’s that going to solve?”
“It’s going to show a mofo he can’t fuck with my family and then just walk away. How would that make me look?”
“Don’t know. You tell me,” Raymond said.
I didn’t answer, and my loft began to vibrate with the still air of our unspoken words. A few moments later, the stillness was beginning to feel overpowering, so I finally said, “Can I get you something to drink?”
“You got any OJ?”
“Naw, I was on my way to get some,” I said.
“Why don’t you get dressed and let me take you to breakfast,” Raymond suggested. Maybe my towel and I were getting to him.
“So you came all the way from Seattle to take me to breakfast. I’m impressed,” I joked. But Raymond wasn’t going to let me take things lightly.
“Basil, when are you going to really deal with life? Are you going to joke, fight or fuck yourself out of every situation?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Basil, I got on a plane and left my home and job to come here to check on you, because the last time I talked to you, you were talking about beating some dude’s ass because he did something you didn’t like. Dude, this is a new century. We’re getting older. We’ve got to stop playing and acting like little boys.”
“I’ll stop acting like a little boy when I finish with Bart,” I said.
“I bet you will, because from what I hear prison changes boys into men or into something I know you don’t even want to hear. And jail is where you’re headed if you don’t deal with this fool in a civilized way.”
“So you think it was civilized of him to call my clients, my friends and most importantly my family? What if someone did that to you?”
“They can’t! I tell the truth to the people I love. Life is full of surprises, and they sure don’t need any new ones from me,” Raymond said calmly.
I thought about what Raymond was saying about living a life of truth, when suddenly I was distracted by a rush of memories of a night I had spent with Raymond at the pool of my rented Atlanta town house. It had been more than seven years ago, but I remember the night like it was yesterday.
It had been a humid night, with Anita Baker’s voice filling the air, under a full moon, and stars sprinkling the sky like tiny pins in a black velvet cushion. I was wearing neon-green shorts and a jock to keep my jimmie tight. Raymond, who had not come prepared for a swim or seduction, was wearing his black boxer briefs. I remembered feeling the solidness of his body pressed against mine and the sensual warmth of the water. I thought of the ripples of pleasure my body felt when Raymond practically forced me to kiss him. A kiss I will never forget, because it was the first time I had kissed a man. I hadn’t kissed a man like that since.
“Basil? What are you thinking about?