Forbidden Love [bwwm interracial]

Chapter 22- Leisurely Walks

I pulled open drawer after drawer and slammed them shut in aggravation. I stomped out the bathroom and turned my purse over, digging through the contents that were now scattered on my bed.

"Jonathan, have you seen my brush?" I asked, sticking my head in the hall so he could hear me.

"Why the hell would I have your brush?" He replied with a chuckle.

I rolled my eyes with a groan and placed my hands on my hips. Where the hell could it have gone? I used it yesterday before that terrible excuse of a meal with the Stillers, and I remember leaving it on my dresser, but now I just couldn't find it. It was an inanimate object - it couldn't have just gotten up and walked out the house.

"Are you ready babe?" Jonathan called from the hallway.

"No, I can't find my b-" I paused as I turned to look at him standing in the doorway. "What'd you just call me?"

"What are you talking about?" He narrowed his eyes at me.

"You just called me babe." I smiled and felt my stomach do a somersault.

"You're delusional," He scoffed. "Are you ready?"

Aggravation swept back over me. "No, I can't find my fucking brush."

"Your hair looks fine, let's go Liv."

"It looks fine to you because you don't know how black girl hair is supposed to look," I whispered, running my hand over my hair with a frown.

"Ms. Williams, if we don't leave now, we're going to be late for our date." He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Knowing he was right, I glanced in the mirror once more and decided I really didn't look that bad. I sighed and grabbed my phone off the charger and made my way out the door.

After that sham brunch yesterday, Jonathan promised he would make it up to me. Not only for dealing with his witch of a stepmother, but for telling her off better than he ever could. He laughed for a straight hour once we got home, especially at my Uno comment.

And what better way to make it up than buying me food?

"By the way, calling me Ms. Williams is hardly a turn-on," I pointed out, walking down the stairs.

"Why would I want to turn you on? You're not a light switch."

~*~

"Ugh, I'm so hot," I complained as I turned the AC all the way up.

"Hey, nobody told you to wear a sweater in Florida's heat," Jonathan countered, turning it back down.

"But I look cute though," I smiled, running my hand over my floral print shorts.

"You look beautiful," He insisted, "But I would rather look like shit and be cool then look 'cute' and be having a heat stroke."

"And that is why you could never survive as a woman." I snorted in laughter and Jonathan rolled his eyes in reply.

"Hold on tight," He announced after several moments of silence. Without even allowing me to process, homeboy cut across three lanes on the highway at a deadly speed.

"What the fuck!" I exclaimed, reaching my hands over my eyes as if it would help.

Jonathan's obnoxious laughter filled the car. "I told you to hold on, didn't I?"

"You're going to kill me before my poor time!" I shrieked, peaking out between the darkness of my hands. Dear ol' Johnny boy was taking the curve off the highway, driving at no less than 80 miles per hour.