the beat. Jaylah’s moves were more subdued and sensual. She swayed her hips and allowed her arms to do the work, extending them above her head and bouncing her shoulders to the music. Her hands undulated in smooth, slow waves and she moved her torso with the grace of a belly dancer. When they were done with their cameos, Jaylah and Jourdan once again came back together, coasting on each other’s energy.
“I love you,” Jaylah mouthed to her friend.
“I love you too,” Jourdan said in return.
F or the first time in months, or maybe even years, Jaylah felt happy. Tucked away in a tiny club with a best friend she’d barely met, but couldn’t picture her life without, she truly was happy.
And then she saw him. Starring at her from across the room.
Now , Jaylah thought to herself, now it’s time.
* * *
Jaylah let the crowd’s tide carry her over to him. She continued to sway to the rhythm as she inched closer to his side. When she “accidentally” grazed his arm, Jaylah seized the opportunity to find out who he was.
“D o all of the black men in this city date white women or what?” she asked instead of saying hello.
“Excuse me?” he said, completely caught off guard.
“Well, I’ve been here a month and I’ve seen black men with Asian women, white woman, Indian woman, but not black women,” she said, tempering her words with a sly smirk. “I was starting to wonder if I was invisible.”
He looked her over, “Now…I don’t think that’s possible.” He extended an easy smile. “I’m Johnny, what’s your name, love?”
She noticed the sharp angle of his nose then, causing her to stop and take him in. His e yes were disarmingly generous and the hint of a decidedly un-British accent danced on the tip of his tongue.
“I’m Jaylah. Where are you from?”
“Peckham.”
“No, no. Be fore. Were you born in London?”
“No. Moved here from Ghana when I was six,” he pointed to her empty beer bottle, “want another?”
“Sure.”
As he walked away, Jaylah noticed the outline of his strong, sleek back and footballer’s body. She thought his arms were easily sturdy enough to lift her, and he moved with a quiet confidence that said he could own any room if he wanted.
In that moment Jaylah knew: she had to see him naked.
* * *
“Here you go,” Johnny said, handing Jaylah a nother beer.
“Thank you,” she said, trying not to smile too hard. “Just got off work?”
He smoothed the wrinkles forming in his cuffed dress shirt. “How can you tell?”
“Lucky guess,” she said, trying to suppress the smile still tugging at her lips. “Come here often?”
They both chuckled at her corny line. Although she had been drawn to him since she first laid eyes on him, she felt unsure of what to say.
Jourdan found her just in time. She turned to Johnny, “I see you’ve met my sister.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Sister?”
“She didn’t tell you?” she asked, looking at Jaylah in mock disbelief. “When our parents divorced they moved her to America and left me in this bloody cold hell hole. And I’m the one who needs the tan!”
The women snickered. “This is Jourdan,” Jaylah said, “my sister.”
She pressed her face close to Jaylah’s. “Don’t we look alike?” Jourdan asked before grabbing Jaylah’s beer and taking a long sip.
“I can see the resemblance,” he said, playing along.
“I’ll let you two chat. There’s a man over there I need to make out with. Jay, you cool?”
“Yes, dear. Go. Kiss. Have fun! ”
“Always,” she said, before heading back across the room.
“Your sister’s an interesting character,” Johnny said.
“She sure is. What about you? What makes you interesting?”
Johnny shrugged. “I’m pretty boring.”
“Oh come now. I’m sure there’s something. Crazy girlfriends, brushes with the law, weird habits—something.”
“Nope, none of that,” he gulped down his beer, “I work too much to be
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