Page 43 of The Ninth

“You’ve taught me a lot. Like, apparently I’m gorgeous, a good artist, and my work is versatile.”

“Yeah, and why are you just learning that about yourself? You look in the mirror daily. You see your work. You see the range you got. Why did it take me telling you? My sixth favorite tattoo was the hand mirror that was broken. As I spend time with you, each of the drawings are growing double meanings. It’s frustrating to see someone worth so much think so little of themselves. But I’ll always be there to remind you how priceless you are. I’m a patient man.”

A lump formed in my throat. I pushed down the self-sabotage. The need to fake a call from my “friend” and end this date or whatever.

One minute we’re laughing, making fun of each other. The next we’re flirting. Then we’re having these deep talks. It’s not fun being on the receiving end. I didn’t enjoy how much of me he was seeing. How deeply into me he was reading. Even if I gave him a little, he walked away with a lot.

I didn’t respond and he didn’t expect me to. Instead, we walked into Coach Play Chicago. I was confused why we were in here until he told me this was a part of the tourist experience. After arguing back and forth, I agreed to get a bag. I got the smallest little pouch. He looked at me, twisting his lips up,

“Onna guys I’ve seen you walk around with that big ass Hocus Pocus purse twice now. Please be for real in here.”

I cackled. He put the purse back as I got the Brooklyn Carryall in brass and light denim. It was in their biggest size.

“Is this good enough, daddy?” I asked sarcastically while looking up at him through my eyelashes.

Instead of laughing, he pinned me against the shelves, pressing his body against mine. My nipples stabbed against him through my shirt, wanting attention.

“You look so pretty, baby...” he whispered. His finger traced from my chin to my jaw, back into my hair. He gripped another handful softly. “Just for me.”

“Is this the one you want?” the nice saleswoman asked.

I looked into Dukes eyes, nodding, “Yes. This is the exact one I want.”

He finally released me. I blushed as I handed the bag over. He got me a customized tag with the Chicago skyline. Also a customized charm that had a rainbow and shooting star (because the star I drew is his number five), my zodiac sign which is a Cancer, (he’s a Pisces), and several other ones. I told him that was the last material thing he was buying me. He said that I can use my mouth to say anything I want.

He took me to The Experience to make a customized hat. Citadel Perfumes to make a custom perfume. We went to Giordano’s where we shared a deep dish pizza. He said it isn’t Chicago’s true pizza, but I gotta have it to say I have.

“Baby, this is lasagna.”

He laughed until we left the place.

On the way back to the truck, we stopped and got our newspaper picture. This entire time we were going on and on about any and everything. As soon as we got to the truck, he made me switch out purses.

Disregarding my earlier sentiments, I was bought a Tiffany necklace, earrings, and bracelet, told it was a part of my Chicago uniform. Two G-Shocks. Since winter is coming in a few months, a Pelle Pelle and a Colombia? When I tried on the Pelle Pelle, he lost his mind.

“EEEEEEEEEEE!” he laughed.

“Eeee?!”

We drove to Skydeck and walked every floor, wrapped around each other. He had me feeling so...

“I really like you, Duke... I know I’ve only met you twice, but you’re so cool. I didn’t know there was a you out there.”

“I like you way more, Devyn. You’re the only woman of your kind that I’ve met. One thing that I can promise is to not mix business and personal. You don’t have to foo with me to be at my shop.”

“I’d never think that of you.”

We got to the Skydeck. I was extremely annoyed at him cracking up laughing at me being afraid to stand inside the box. But I did it. And he took my picture. He told me his fourth favorite was an angel in some clouds I drew, the third a sun I drew, and the second a moon.

We went to Pete’s on Roosevelt and got an Italian beef. He put emphasis that I must get it with everything and with extra cheese. Once I seen the cheese, I asked if it was necessary. “Don’t question me, folks,” he laughed. We shared it together and it was the most fire thing I’ve eaten since being in the city.

Somehow, we ended up at Tetto Rooftop Bar. It was packed with beautiful Black people, a good DJ, and the best vibes. The sun was on its way to setting. We took shots as well as a couple of drinks. We ran into Beatrice who introduced me to another guy that tattoos with Duke. He asked Duke, “is this you, twin?!” to which Duke said, “most definitely.”

As soon as I felt myself getting tipsy, I stopped the drinks. I stopped early enough to interrupt anything terrible from happening...but not from interrupting my audacity.

Bougie Hoes by YFG Fatso came on, a song I just so happened to know from my time at UofL. I slid my hand up his chest to around his neck as he leaned against the rail. He smiled with a toothpick in his mouth and a drink in his hand. When I pulled his neck towards me, he came on command.

My tongue licked up his neck, twirling his earlobe before I sucked it softly. He chuckled and gripped my waist, pulling me closer. My nose trailed down his neck, taking in his addicting ass smell. I found myself kissing and sucking all over him. Everywhere but his lips.