Page 17 of Book Bae

“I know enough. I know that your feet are clean, you smell good, and you’ve got pretty feet.”

I found myself blushing like I often seemed to do around him. Rather than addressing his comment, I changed the subject. “Are you going to the ball tomorrow night?”

“Probably not.”

“Why not? Is security not allowed to go?”

He gave me an odd look before he shrugged and replied, “That has nothing to do with me.”

“Then why aren’t you going?”

“I’ll be heading out. I’ve got other commitments I have to get to. Are you going?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I sighed and replied, “It’s bad timing to come to a book conference when you’d rather be alone, but that’s my struggle right now.”

“My bad, I didn’t mean to crowd your space,” he commented with a wink.

I smiled at his teasing, but instead of replying, I sang the lyrics to Bootsy Collins’s “I’d Rather Be with You.” Micaiah bobbed his head and surprised me by joining in. When we finished, he commented, “You’ve got a nice voice.”

“You don’t sound too bad yourself.”

He put the blunt out as he looked up at the sky with narrowed eyes before he declared, “Come on. It’s about to rain.”

We headed back inside and took the stairwell down to his room. I chatted about the workshops that I had attended, and he listened intently. At one point, when we exited the stairwell, a few readers called out, “Hey, Mike.” He waved and headed in the opposite direction with his head down and hands stuffed in his shorts pockets.

“Micaiah.” I gasped when we stepped inside of his suite and the floor was covered with white rose petals. He had dimmed the lights and “Get You” by Daniel Caesar and Kali Uchis was playing softly in the background. My nose detected the hypnotic and sensual scents of oud and crimson rose. There were dozens of candles all over the living room suite, leading to the bedroom. The woody scent of the oud was intense, whereas the timely scent of rose lent a romantic vibe to the room.

“Have a seat and get comfortable,” he stated, removing his hoodie and walking to the fireplace. I watched as he flicked it on before he washed his hands at the sink. He then walked to the bar to pour us both a glass of peach flavored champagne. It was the same one from the night before, and I had told him then that I loved peach flavors. I was glad to see that he had ordered another bottle.

He opened the refrigerator and removed a tray that he set on the table before he returned to the bar to get our champagne glasses.

“What’s all this?” I asked, spreading my hands to indicate the champagne, chocolate covered almonds, and dark chocolate truffles.

“This is your special evening for you. You weren’t in the best space yesterday, but we ended the night on a positive note. I wanna do that again.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He fed me a chocolate-covered almond. “Finish telling me about today.”

I finished chewing before I spoke.

“I met a couple of my favorite authors and got their autographs. I’ve been meeting several authors this weekend, but every time I tried to get to those two, there was a crowd around them. I had almost given up hope until during a bathroom break, one of them literally ran into me when I was coming out of my stall. She was doing the potty dance, and bumped me trying to get in. She told me to wait before leaving the restroom. I did, and when she finished, her and the other author grabbed another lady to take a mini photo shoot of the three of us outside of the ladies’ restroom.”

“Damn, talking about meet-cute.”

“Exactly. That’s what I said.”

“I hope you got a good background rather than a restroom sign that read, ‘Ladies.’”

I giggled. “We did. There was a big, bold abstract painting on a wall that had perfect lighting with two tall fake palm trees on either side of it. The other highlight of my day was the book signing.”

“How many books did you purchase?”