Page 64 of Collateral Love
My throat went dry.
He watched me for a long moment, then leaned back against the headrest.
“You ever gon’ admit it?” he asked.
“Admit what?”
“That this ain’t just business,” he said. “That you don’t just tolerate me ‘cause I’m useful. That you look for me sometimes.”
I hated him a little for that. For saying out loud what I tried to store in the margins.
“You really wanna do this right now?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.”
I looked out the windshield.
The field lights blurred at the edges.
“I look for you,” I said finally. “Happy?”
“Yes.”
I turned back to him. “Your turn.”
He nodded, slowly. “I look for you too.”
“That’s not new,” I said. “You always liked having me around when we talk numbers.”
He shook his head.
“It’s not the numbers,” he said. “It’s you.”
Something in me flinched.
“You know if we cross this line, we can’t go back,” I said. “Not to before. Not to just partners like we were.”
“You really wanna go back?” he asked.
No. That was the problem.
“I don’t wanna lose what we built,” I said. “The business. The trust. The way we move.”
“You really think we’ll lose that ‘cause we admit what’s already there?” he asked.
“I think people get sloppy when they’re in love,” I said. “I’ve seen it my whole life. I refuse to be that.”
He let that word sit there between us.
Love.
He didn’t flinch from it.
“You in love with a Nigga YaYa?” he asked, voice even.
“That’s not what I said.”
“But is it true?” he pushed gently.
