Page 106 of Certified To Handle You 2

I washed my hands, rinsed the meat, turned on some music and started cookin’ while waitin’ for the call that would tell me Renza was on his way.

Two hours passed and I had already finished cookin’, took a shower and poured myself a glass of wine, but Renza still hadn’t called or texted to say he was on his way.

I had spent most of the time tryin’ to convince myself that it didn’t mean nothin’. Renza had always been bad with time, even when we was together. That nigga could tell me he was pullin’ up in twenty minutes, then show up two hours later actin’ like clocks was made for everybody except him.

Back then, I would fuss the second he walked through the door, and Renza would laugh, kiss all over my face and ask why I was actin’ like I didn’t know how he moved.

Now shit was different…

I couldn’t blow his phone up or start sendin’ him paragraphs because he was late. We wasn’t together, and I guess he didn’t owe me the same kind of check-ins he used to give me. That was the part I kept remindin’ myself of, even though the longer I waited, the harder it got to believe he was still comin’.

I had already showered, lotioned my body and put on a fitted cream lounge set that looked good without makin’ it too obvious that I had dressed for him. The shorts hugged my hips and stopped high on my thighs, while the top dipped low enough to show a lil’ skin without lookin’ like I was beggin’ for attention. I had brushed my hair down, touched up my edges and put on some lip gloss, then stood in front of the mirror askin’ myself if I was doin’ too much. I ended up leavin’ everything the way it was though. If Renza noticed, that was on him.

The food sat covered on the stove. I cooked steak, greens, garlic mashed potatoes and some cornbread because once I started cookin’, I went all the way with it. I told myself I was makin’ enough to have leftovers for the next couple days, but the truth was I knew Renza liked a real plate. I didn’t know if he planned on eatin’ when he got here, but I wanted the option there without havin’ to ask him what he wanted and throw somethin’ together at the last minute.

My first glass of wine went down while I finished cleanin’ the kitchen. By the time I poured the second one, I was sittin’ on the couch with one leg folded under me and my phone facedown beside my thigh. I kept lookin’ at it anyway.

Every time the screen lit up, my stomach tightened, but it was never him. One message came from my sister thankin’ me for the money again. Another one came from the manager at Renaissance Glam Studio about somebody callin’ off for the next mornin’. Then some other messages. I didn’t answer none of that shit. For once, everybody could wait.

I brought my glass to my lips and took another drink while lookin’ toward the front door. The condo was quiet except for the music playin’ low from the speakers near the TV. I had changed the playlist three times because nothin’ sounded right. The first one felt too romantic, the second one made it seem like I wastryna set a mood and the third one had so much loud shit on it that it started gettin’ on my nerves.

Now some smooth song played in the background, but I wasn’t even listenin’.

Another twenty minutes passed…

I picked up my phone and opened our messages.

I typed,You still coming?

Then I stared at it. The message looked too eager, so I erased it.

I typed,Where you at?

That sounded like I was checkin’ him, so I erased that too.

By the time the screen went dark, I felt stupid for even sittin’ here rehearsin’ a text message to a nigga I had once basically lived with. There had been a time when I could call Renza and tell him to bring his ass home without thinkin’ twice. Now I was scared one wrong message would make him feel like I was already tryin’ to pull him back into the same relationship he said he wasn’t ready for.

I leaned back against the couch and closed my eyes.

Then the bitch he told me about crossed my mind.

I didn’t know who she was or what they had done together. I didn’t know if Renza was talkin’ to her every day, sleepin’ at her place or makin’ plans with her the same way he used to make them with me. I tried not to think about it because every time I did, I started imaginin’ some bitch enjoyin’ the version of him I still missed.

Maybe he changed his mind about comin’ here because he was with her…

Maybe she called while he was at his gun shop, and he decided whatever she wanted sounded better than sittin’ in my condo listenin’ to me complain about my life.

I hated that my mind went there so fast. One of the things I had been tryin’ to work on was not turnin’ every silence into theworst possible answer. Renza had given me no reason to believe he was standin’ me up, but my feelings didn’t care about facts right now. My chest started achin’ the longer I sat here.

I finished the rest of my wine, set the empty glass on the table and picked up my phone before I could talk myself out of it. My thumb hovered over his name for a second, then I pressed the call button.

The first ring had my heart beatin’ harder. By the second one, I was already regrettin’ the shit.

Renza answered before the third.

“Wussup?” he answered, and the sound of his voice loosened somethin’ inside me.

I sat up straighter on the couch. “Where you at?”