Page 130 of The Need to Know

“B.o.B is dope,” I had to agree.

“What about you?” Ezekiel wanted to know. “What was an album you just loved right away? That you can listen to track for track and then play again?”

I didn’t have to do much soul searching for this question. “August Alsina’s Testimony. Whole album was my shit, and ‘Porn Star’? Don’t get me started.” I threw one hand off the wheel and wined in my seat.

Ezekiel quietly measured me out. “Is that what you’re trying to be tonight?”

My breath caught in my throat.

Straight face. Eye contact. Calm tone. Ezekiel turned me on at the drop of a dime.

I cleared my throat and focused hard on the street ahead of me as we hit a red light. Easy. Ezekiel was so confident and suave, and a natural leader. He couldn’t take a total back seat with me leading if he tried.

“Testimony was flawless. Outside of that, Over It is my second favorite album ever. I’m sure I annoyed the hell out of Scorsese with the replay on that one.”

Ezekiel laughed beside me and held his hand out. “Another local!”

Hell yeah she was.

When we made it to Belmont Village, we went into a men’s clothing store called Dashing. Slipping into Boss Mode, I took over as my eyes scanned the open sales floor.

Business. Athleisure. Hipster. Bro. Punk.

None of that was what I wanted to see Ezekiel in. I loved his business casual style, but for those days we went out to eat or hung out with friends, what he needed was just plain casual.

Finding the section of Dashing that sold just that, I dragged Ezekiel along with me.

“We’re going to pick out two to three outfits,” I instructed as I eyed a display of folded men’s graphic tees.

Ezekiel crossed his arms and stood his ground. “I can’t pick out my own clothes?”

“Casual, Zeke. Something you can wear out to go grocery shopping or to Paisley’s.”

Ezekiel made a face and set off to find articles of clothing to my liking. He didn’t fight me any step of the way during our shopping venture. When he held up a dress shirt and I shook my head, he simply put it back and went on to something else. In the end, he picked out a polo, a pack of T-shirts, a bomber jacket, and some jeans.

“How’s this?” He came out of the dressing room wearing a burgundy bomber jacket, white tee, and a dark pair of jeans.

He. Looked. Incredible.

But I kept my face even. I circled him, taking in how he filled in his clothing and the way his broad back stretched the material of his jacket. Damn.

“Perfect,” I said as I came back around him. “Now let’s look at shoes.”

Ezekiel didn’t rush to move. “Shoes? You’re already looking at a couple hundred at least⁠—”

“Your point?” I challenged, arching a brow.

Ezekiel stared at me as I stared at him. Soon, he surveyed our surroundings and took in how we were the only two in the dressing room area. When he settled on me, his expression was blank. “Want to come in?”

He was inviting back to his changing room. Too tempting.

“I don’t trust you,” I said.

“You shouldn’t.” He stared at my figure before meeting my eyes once more. “All this attitude you got and this bossy side of you? It’s killing me.”

I leaned toward him, holding my stance on this evening. “Get. Over. It.”

He breathed in through his nose and let it out slowly. “What’s next?”