Thy Neighbor

Chapter Thirteen

Ciara's chest grows hot with anticipation at the thought of performing a petty act or two at the expense of Trevante's feelings. Watching as Yahya saunters into the last empty seat at the bar makes her eyes light up, more bright than her phone screen, Trevante texting her incessantly since she returned that gift.

Trevante instantly felt sick when gym manager strutted her way into the living room as Ciara stood looking like a mix of anger and confusion. He knew his blunder but also knew to face the consequences of choosing to postpone dinner for a dalliance. Gym manager wasn't there much longer after that. Lying about friends coming over, he quickly moved to get her out of his apartment. With even faster speed, he texted Ciara.

I'm sorry.

She's gone. Can we talk?

Really, Ciara?

Can I come over and talk to you?

Let me make it up to you.

He desperately wanted to make it up to her. Trevante's feelings for Ciara were a tad bit more complex than he could understand. He remembers their dinner at Sugarhouse vividly, this moment when they talked about their lives in such a transparent way. He remembers when she told him about how it's hard for her to date because of her celibacy. Must men don't get it, she quipped. Trevante thought of himself to be one of those men. But yet he felt this undercurrent of sexual energy from Ciara that pierced through him that entire night. It made him curious but also in awe that she kept those waves bottled up inside of her. He wondered if he could ever do that same. Sex became empty for Trevante the more and more he had it. But a necessary evil in his life because without that interaction, he'd feel the loneliness.

So as he continued to find himself around this unicorn that was Ciara, he felt emotions that were all-too-new. He wanted to pick her brain, spend more time with her, be around her energy, be a part of her space. But he found trouble reconciling with the idea that she wouldn't want to consummate that energy. That was enough for him to lean on the side of not pursuing a relationship with her. He wanted the all that but needed the more. The more being sex.

Sex cascades Ciara's thoughts as she stares at Yahya. His tall, milk chocolate complexion and long limbs push her mind into a very dangerous place that Mahalia sniffs out as soon as he walked through the door.

"Hey, Ash. You can close me out but can you put his drink on my tab?" Ciara points at Yahya's tired body barely hanging on at the bar. Ashley closes Ciara's tab, her left eyebrow perched in Ciara's direction.

Ashley walks over to Yahya, a glass full of non distinct cognac in her hand. As she places the glass in front of Yahya, she turns to point at Ciara. Yahya's face grows inquisitive. He bites his lower lip in approval once he lays eyes on who bought it for him.

He picks up his limber yet built frame and walks over to the now-empty bar seat next to Ciara. Ciara avoids eye contact for as long as she could, staring at the texts from Trevante. And deleting them as fast as she could.

"You made my night with this drink." Yahya's torso towers over Ciara. "Thank you..."

"You can call me C."

"Well, thank you C. I think you need something too."

"No, it's late. I can't..."

"Ashley. Whatever she's been drinking on tonight."

Ashley gives Ciara a look. Ciara shoots one back.

"Long day at work, huh?"

"Yeah. I'm an litigations attorney. Long day of work for you too?" Yahya scans Ciara's frame with every long sip of his drink.

"No. I got stood up on a date. Shit happens."

"He's an idiot."

Ciara leans back slightly in her chair. "Why you say that?"

"I'm looking at you. He's an idiot."

Ciara touches the broadest spot of Yahya's left shoulder as a response to his sweetness. As she casually looks down, she notices a shiny object slightly blinding her right eye: a wedding band. In that moment, she felt the conviction that Mahalia and Ashley hoped she would find in this moment. She readjusts her body, moving the bar stool far away from Yahya. He's too drunk on lust and Crown Royal to notice.

"I don't think I can finish this drink. I should get home." Ciara throws her phone into her purse, her body jumping off the seat.

"Where's home?" Yahya gulps down the rest of his drink and gets up to stand alongside Ciara. His height made him even more daunting.

"Why? You can't take me home."

"You can take me to yours though."

Yahya's boldness catches Ciara off-guard. As her body and spirit beg her to leave, she decides to level a parting blow to his ego.

"You should probably text your wife that you're on your way home. Have a great night."