Sweet Nothing | Aaliyah x J. Cole

12

She's doing that staring thing again. He can tell, even with his eyes closed. Maybe she can't help it.

They say the eyes are the window to the soul, but when Jay turns to look at her with a yawn, her eyes show a brick wall.

She's sitting up, propped on her elbow with her head resting in her hand, the blanket over her chest.

Jay wipes his face with his hand, longing for her touch. Instead of waiting, with a groan, he sits up too in search of his phone. It's almost nine in the morning, and his stomach is grumbling. He scoots out of the bed, planting his feet on the carpet.

When he starts dressing himself, he hears Liyah scoff.

"What happened to talking? You're just gonna leave?"

He shakes his head, his back turned to her as he zips up his jeans.

"Who can talk on an empty stomach? Let's get some food."

He can feel her eyes on the back of his head, but he just puts on his shirt. By the time he's done, she's still laying there in the same position. He smacks his lips.

"C'mon. I'm hungry."

—

Jay drives them to his favorite breakfast spot in his Corvette. She's only been in it a handful of times, and is only the second woman to do so outside of family.

He wonders if he tells her that if she'll feel flattered or grossed out. He decides against it, and lead them into the spot where they order some food, he pays, and they find a booth.

They scoot into their seats across from one another as the smells of eggs and sausage grows stronger. She'd taken way too long getting ready, but damn did she look good, even in a plain pink hoodie. She never goes anywhere without looking her best.

That's the kind of woman he likes.

As though she's uncomfortable under his gaze, she sighs. "Let's talk."

Jay's face contorts, and he sits back in the booth. "Damn can we get the food first?"

"I don't even got an appetite like that. So how about you start somewhere?" She shakes her head and focuses out of the window on the passersby.

Jay bites his lip. He'd thought about most of it on his way over to her place last night. Apologizing, asking how he could make it right, and how to get them on track to advancing.

Slowly, but advancing. He doesn't think he's ready for a relationship, but if a relationship means keeping Liyah in the picture, it's a leap he's willing to make.

But he hadn't accounted for or planned on saying he loved her. As he sits across from her, studying her soft features, he replays last night, the moment those words escaped his lips.

I don't know why I said that. Is it true, he wonders. Do I love her?

He accepts that he can't take those words back.

Then he sits forward again. "Want me to start somewhere? How about you scratching me with them long ass claws?" He flashes his wrists, the tiny scrapes now welts on his light tawny skin.

Liyah tucks her lips inward like she's hiding a smile.

"Oh, you think this funny," he puts his hand under the table.

She chuckles a little bit, then stops. "I'm sorry, for real. That was an accident. I've never scratched you before, you know that's not even my style."

He nods, then shrugs, unsure. "I wouldn't say never." He's alluding to the countless times she's dug her claws into his back as he gave her what she'd wanted.

Liyah blushes a little, waving him off. "Whatever. You know what I mean."

"I forgive you," he says. "I can understand why you were mad. But I had nothing to do with that girl trying to scam you."

She folds her arms on the table, leaning forward with a hushed bicker. "Yes! Yes, Jay! You did. She wouldn't know me or anything about me if not for you. I don't even see what you see in her."

Whoa. Is that... jealousy? He bites down on his original response, and instead decides to reassure her.

"I only fucked her one time, so obviously I wasn't seeing shit."

"And if you saw what you wanted to see in her, would you even be here with me right now?" Liyah asks.

"Of course, what you mean?"

"Yeah fuckin' right," she scoffs, but then the young brother usually working the front arrives at the table with their breakfast and drinks.

Both of them go silent for a moment, hoping the young man hadn't caught any of the convo. The sounds of forks scraping plates and light chatter fills the space where their argument would be.

She smooths back her ponytail and folds her arms again as the food is placed before them. Jay wastes no time digging into his chorizo, but Liyah goes straight for a sip of her black coffee.

He smashes his first taco, takes a sip of the apple juice, and wipes his mouth with a napkin from the dispenser on the table. "You my shorty, Liyah. I don't know how else to put it."

"Really, your shorty? Is that quantifiable by how many condom wrappers you've left on my floor, or by the number of months we've been at this game?"

He groans loud enough to fill the restaurant, unable to understand why she's hanging on to this. He's here, trying to make it right. Isn't that enough?

He eats the second taco, giving himself a moment to breath before responding to her smart ass mouth. His uncle, who'd been a father figure, always told him a man is one who takes accountability where possible and necessary, no matter what. That's what he intends to do.

"Look, I should've never fucked that girl. And you right, it's partially my fault that she fucking with you. I'm sorry for however this is making you feel or however it's inconveniencing you. But it's been months since I even saw her; I already showed you the texts and shit. And I've reimbursed you for that bullshit. So tell me what I got to do to get you to let it go."

Liyah finally takes a fork to her Shakshuka, and feeds herself a mouthful. From the look of her face, she's pleased, but he can't tell if it's with him or with the food.

"I guess there's nothing more you can do. And I do appreciate the money."

"I didn't hear you say thank you, though," he smirks, making her roll her eyes.

"Thank you, DJ Ya," she taunts him, and sips the coffee.

He winces at the sound of her calling him that. "What about the other thing?"

She slowly lowers the cup. "What other thing?"

"Us. What can I do to make that right?"

Liyah laughs and takes another bite of the savory tomato egg dish. "I didn't even know us was a thing. I thought I was just another lay."

"C'mon," he huffs, leaning back. "I wouldn't be fuckin' with you like I do if that was the case."

"To my knowledge, you treat all your hoes the same, do you not?"

"Yo, chill with that. I don't got hoes like that. There's an us, otherwise I wouldn't be sitting at this table trying to work shit out. So you gone keep giving me a hard time, or..." He leans forward, licking his lips.

"Work with a nigga a little bit?"

She looks up from the food, weary of his intentions. Then she points the fork in his face.

"I'll work with you when you make it very clear to Regine that I'm not the bitch to be fucked with. You brought her into my life, you get her out. Then maybe we can talk about us."