Honey & Spice

by Bolu Babalola

I didn’t think horoscopes were my thing but his eyes really looked like stars and I suddenly wanted to be an astrologer, to learn how to read them as they flashed at me.

“I don’t want to give myself to someone who doesn’t know what to do with me. I . . . don’t want to lose myself.”

“You’re not funny.” “Too late. I already heard you laugh.” “It was a cough.” “Sounded like a giggle.” I turned to him. “You were mistaken. I don’t giggle. There was something in my throat. Do you have a lozenge in the glovebox?”

It was a perfect explosion of sweet and savory, a sublime balance of honey and spice.

Trust. Was that what I was doing now? Trusting people? How had he made me do that?

Was he really quoting a line from my favorite book back to me?

He's reading her favorite series!?

“Nah, but for real, Scotch. The more I get to know you the more I realize how much of you there is. I wanna know it all.”

“Kiki, the first time I spoke to you, outside them lifts, I felt like I’d been electrocuted.”

“Kiki, I want you. Been wanting you. And I wanted you so bad the other night. The reality of you isn’t messy, it’s . . . man, it’s perfect. I’m the mess. That’s why I got freaked out. I mess things up, Scotch. If I fuck this up, I will never forgive myself. This isn’t a casual thing to me. You’re not just a link to me. You’re it to me.”