Read Online Savaro's Honey Buns by Remmy Duchene - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Remmy Duchene
Tags: General Fiction
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his head and rubbed his eyes. What was he to do about Jamal?
Savaro picked up his keys and emerged from his
office. He stopped to check on things in the kitchen before slipping out the door once more into the rain. Sliding into the driver's seat of his car, he started the ignition and sped from the lot heading east. He didn't stop until he was pulling into his father's driveway. Savaro stopped and grabbed the mail then drove up to the front and parked. He ran up the front steps and let himself into the large house.
"Appa?" he called, pulling his feet from his shoes and making his way into the kitchen. George wasn't there, nor was he in the den where Savaro left the mail. Hurrying down the hall he peeked into the sunroom. "Appa?"
"In the bedroom!" his father's voice hollered from up the stairs.
Savaro took them two at a time to find his father bracing against the headboards and watching a Mixed Martial Arts match. He climbed onto the bed beside his dad and grabbed a chip from the bowl between them. Silently, the two watched until the match was over before George turned the television off and turned his head to look at Savaro.
"Sav? What's the matter?"
"I met someone—things seem to be on nitro with him though."
George tilted his head.
"What I meant is—everything is just moving at lightning speed and I'm scared I'll just completely ruin it."
"Okay. Why don't we start with who this man is."
"His name is Jamal Kendricks."
"The basketball player?"
Savaro sat up then and eyed his father. "Does everyone know who this man is but me?"
"Apparently. I met him a few years ago when I went to this Condo presentation in New York. Nice guy—very intelligent I have to say."
"Well that nice guy came here and I seemed to keep putting my foot in my mouth around him. I allowed myself to be talked into dinner with him and one thing led to another…"
"Are you regretting it?" George questioned.
"No—never that."
"Then what's the problem?"
Savaro sighed and leant against the headboard
again. He rubbed a hand over his face. "I want this man, Appa. I want him so bad I stood in my office and was climbing the walls because I have to wait to see him again.
But is that enough—is that enough to make me give this man my heart?"
"It has to be. Want is just the beginning. And you wouldn't just hand your heart over—that's to be expected because you've been hurt before. What you do, is you give him a piece of your heart, see what he does with it then make a decision to give him a piece more or not… piece by piece. But in all fairness to him, if you're never going to give him all of it, don't bother. It will only end in tears."
"It's not hard to fall for him, Appa. He makes it so damn easy. Sometimes I feel so overly useless and so…
so… I feel worthless. I mean, sometimes I feel like I am just so unlovable it breaks my heart over and over. But with Jamal—have you ever had a woman who could just read your body—knows exactly what you wanted or what you were feeling before you did?"
George nodded with a smile.
"How did you deal with that? I don't know what to do because Jamal is only passing through."
"Remember I told you about Evvie?"
"Yes… your wife that died."
George smiled sadly and eased from the bed. He
walked over to the dresser and opened a drawer. He pulled out a small black box and walked back to the bed. He sat on the edge and caressed the delicate design on the lid. "When I met her, I was seventeen. But I knew she was something special. We were married six months later and my life hadn't been more perfect. She knew precisely what I was thinking, feeling, wanting, needing before I did. At first I thought it was just worrisome but as the years passed—I knew it meant she was my perfect match."
"And when she died? How did you deal with that?"
George took a deep breath. He looked up then but
only for a brief moment. His eyes were back to the box.
"Not well I suppose. I never did get out there to date
Savaro picked up his keys and emerged from his
office. He stopped to check on things in the kitchen before slipping out the door once more into the rain. Sliding into the driver's seat of his car, he started the ignition and sped from the lot heading east. He didn't stop until he was pulling into his father's driveway. Savaro stopped and grabbed the mail then drove up to the front and parked. He ran up the front steps and let himself into the large house.
"Appa?" he called, pulling his feet from his shoes and making his way into the kitchen. George wasn't there, nor was he in the den where Savaro left the mail. Hurrying down the hall he peeked into the sunroom. "Appa?"
"In the bedroom!" his father's voice hollered from up the stairs.
Savaro took them two at a time to find his father bracing against the headboards and watching a Mixed Martial Arts match. He climbed onto the bed beside his dad and grabbed a chip from the bowl between them. Silently, the two watched until the match was over before George turned the television off and turned his head to look at Savaro.
"Sav? What's the matter?"
"I met someone—things seem to be on nitro with him though."
George tilted his head.
"What I meant is—everything is just moving at lightning speed and I'm scared I'll just completely ruin it."
"Okay. Why don't we start with who this man is."
"His name is Jamal Kendricks."
"The basketball player?"
Savaro sat up then and eyed his father. "Does everyone know who this man is but me?"
"Apparently. I met him a few years ago when I went to this Condo presentation in New York. Nice guy—very intelligent I have to say."
"Well that nice guy came here and I seemed to keep putting my foot in my mouth around him. I allowed myself to be talked into dinner with him and one thing led to another…"
"Are you regretting it?" George questioned.
"No—never that."
"Then what's the problem?"
Savaro sighed and leant against the headboard
again. He rubbed a hand over his face. "I want this man, Appa. I want him so bad I stood in my office and was climbing the walls because I have to wait to see him again.
But is that enough—is that enough to make me give this man my heart?"
"It has to be. Want is just the beginning. And you wouldn't just hand your heart over—that's to be expected because you've been hurt before. What you do, is you give him a piece of your heart, see what he does with it then make a decision to give him a piece more or not… piece by piece. But in all fairness to him, if you're never going to give him all of it, don't bother. It will only end in tears."
"It's not hard to fall for him, Appa. He makes it so damn easy. Sometimes I feel so overly useless and so…
so… I feel worthless. I mean, sometimes I feel like I am just so unlovable it breaks my heart over and over. But with Jamal—have you ever had a woman who could just read your body—knows exactly what you wanted or what you were feeling before you did?"
George nodded with a smile.
"How did you deal with that? I don't know what to do because Jamal is only passing through."
"Remember I told you about Evvie?"
"Yes… your wife that died."
George smiled sadly and eased from the bed. He
walked over to the dresser and opened a drawer. He pulled out a small black box and walked back to the bed. He sat on the edge and caressed the delicate design on the lid. "When I met her, I was seventeen. But I knew she was something special. We were married six months later and my life hadn't been more perfect. She knew precisely what I was thinking, feeling, wanting, needing before I did. At first I thought it was just worrisome but as the years passed—I knew it meant she was my perfect match."
"And when she died? How did you deal with that?"
George took a deep breath. He looked up then but
only for a brief moment. His eyes were back to the box.
"Not well I suppose. I never did get out there to date
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