Sample Sunday - Hurry
7.29.22
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“You up?”
As soon as I hit send on that text, I turned the phone over on my lap, my fingers tapping a pattern along the slick case as I forced myself to look out the window as the buildings rolled by.
I really needed the answer to that question to be… yes.
More than just yes.
Yes, come through.
I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, only bothering it a little before I released – it had just healed from the last nervous gash I chewed into it.
It was silly.
I should’ve sent that text as soon as I touched down – that would’ve given both of us time to plan, would’ve eliminated the uncertainty.
Instead, I’d obsessed over word choice and emojis before finally settling on the classic, straight to the point, two-word combo.
The vibration of the device against my leg spiked my heartrate as the car pulled to a stoplight.
“Who wants to know? – Kyir.”
“And why? – Kyir.”
Unbidden, a grin spread across my lips – a reaction I quickly tempered as inappropriate, circumstances considered.
“*I* wanna know – and you know why.”
This time, I didn’t hide the screen from myself.
If he was responding to texts, it was a done deal – and I hadn’t been overly presumptuous in giving my rideshare driver an address that wasn’t actually mine.
“I don’t know shit. Say it. – Kyir.”
I read that text multiple times, enjoying the sensation the words sparked between my legs. I squirmed in my seat a little as I hyped myself up to type a reply, drafting and erasing it in my head a few times before I finally landed on something I didn’t think would make me cringe when I read it back.
“I need you inside me. Now.”
I was so, so wrong about not cringing.
As soon as I hit send, I hated every word – I was way too grown to be averse to being direct.
And did it seem desperate?
Did it?
Yes.
It seemed so desperate.
Gross.
The more minutes that passed without a response from him, the hotter my face grew, just knowing I’d ruined the vibe.
I was right on the verge of sending something to try to course correct, or maybe just telling the driver I needed to change the route, when the phone buzzed again.
A picture of Kyir – or, part of him, rather – already glistening with precum.
And then, a single word text.
“Hurry. – Kyir.”
A long rush of air pushed from my lungs, my mouth watering as I took a second look at the picture before typing my reply.
“On the way.”
“Ay,” I heard, prompting me to look up from the screen to where my rideshare driver was peering at me in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah?”
“Whoever got you looking at your phone like that should definitely be picking you up from the airport – I know that’s outside my business, but… just saying,” he shrugged.
“You’re right, it’s outside your business,” I laughed, unbothered by the intrusion – only because his tone indicated he really thought he was being helpful. “But also it’s not… it’s not like that,” I tried to explain, pointlessly.
He chuckled, raising an eyebrow at me. “Damn, I need somebody to not be like that about me the way you are,” he said, pulling up to Kyir’s building. “You got your bag?”
“I do, thank you,” I told him, climbing out of the car.
“You’re welcome. Unless you tell me otherwise, I’ll wait til you’re inside.”
“Oh. Uh… that’s very chivalrous,” I said, lowkey wanting to tell him to move on, but I couldn’t get in unless Kyir let me in, and it was hella late – or early, depending on who you asked, and spring was in full effect in the Heights, represented by a warm, steady drizzle.
So… yeah.
I wasn’t going to turn it down.
The only bag I had was the carry-on I’d traveled with, and I hooked it over my shoulder as I climbed out of the car. Under the relatively dry conditions of the awning, I shot Kyir a text to let him know I was downstairs.
A moment later, a low, melodic chime nearby let me know I could draw the door open. I waved to the driver, making sure the entry was securely latched behind me as he pulled off.
Only then could I find it in me to let out a relieved breath.
This visit was so, so necessary.
