Page 109 of Certified To Handle You 2

Renza smiled and shook his head before lookin’ toward the TV. “See, yo’ ass know I’m right.”

“I ain’t say you was right.”

“You laughin’ ‘cause I’m right.”

“I’m laughin’ because you don’t know how to say nothin’ nice.”

“I came over here, ate yo’ food and sat down to listen to all this shit,” he replied. “That’s nice enough.”

I looked at him for a second before smilin’ into my glass.

This was the Renza I missed…

I missed the way he could make me laugh when I was tired enough to cry. I missed the way he said the truth without dressin’ it up, and the way bein’ around him made everything outside the room feel a little less important.

We talked for a while after that. I told him more about the woman at the funeral home and how her daughters wanted every curl laid exactly the way she wore it when she was alive. Renza listened without interruptin’.

“I hate that I bring that shit home sometimes. I just don’t talk about it.”

“You don’t talk about most shit,” he said.

“That ain’t true.”

“It is,” he replied as he looked at me. “You talk when you mad. You don’t talk when you hurt.”

His words landed harder than I wanted them to. I looked down at my lap, then lifted the glass again even though there wasn’t much wine left inside it. “Maybe I don’t know how.”

“You knew how tonight.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

I thought about it before answerin’. “I didn’t have nobody else I wanted to call.”

Renza’s eyes stayed on me, but he didn’t rush to say anything. His face softened just enough for me to catch it, then he looked away like he didn’t want me readin’ too much into the moment.

I set my glass on the table and shifted closer before I had time to overthink it. My thigh brushed against his, and when Renza looked over, I placed my hand on top of his leg.

He kept his eyes on me…

I rubbed my palm along his thigh once, then left it there while the music played low around us. The wine had loosened somethin’ inside me, but I wasn’t gone enough to misunderstand what I was doin’. I knew shit between us was still complicated, and I knew one good conversation didn’t put us back where we used to be. Still, Renza had come when I needed him.

He ate the food I made, sat next to me and listened while I let some of the weight off my shoulders.

Now his eyes was movin’ over my face, and the way he watched me made every nervous thought inside my head go quiet.

I leaned closer to Renza and put my hand on the side of his face, rubbin’ his beard and I couldn’t even explain how good it felt. I had missed this beard more than I realized. It was crazy how one touch from him could make every wall I spent months buildin’ start crumblin’ down

Renza was lookin’ and smellin’ so good that I couldn’t help but press my lips to his and kiss him. The way he pulled me close and pushed his tongue in my mouth made me feel like he was my nigga again.

Renza didn’t hesitate. The second my lips touched his, he pulled me into him like his body remembered mine before his mind had the chance to argue with it. His hand settled against my waist while his tongue slid against mine, and I melted into him without a second thought. My nails disappeared into his soft waves, scratchin’ real light across his scalp while I held him.

Somewhere in the middle of the kiss, I pulled him down on top of me. My legs wrapped around his waist while his hands moved to shorts. My heart was beatin’ so dam hard I could hear it in my ears, and every warm breath that escaped him made my stomach flutter.

He eased my shorts down my legs, and I kept kissin’ him like I was scared the moment would disappear if I stopped. Then I heard the familiar sound of his zipper.

A second later, he pulled his tongue from my mouth,