First Date with Shamar

972 Days

You were just sipping water on one side of the table. The dreadlocked 25 year-old Jamaican man sat on the other side of the table, with your blonde 19 year-old girlfriend. They were sharing some jerk chicken.

"So, I had a diagnosis that is generally terminal ... and I really want my girlfriend settled before my time is gone ... and if my time is gone. If it isn't, we go back to how things were. But if it is, I need to find her a good guy. So you get two weeks, she's your girl." You wished you could say it more eloquently. He ate a piece of chicken. He looked at your girlfriend. He'd obviously wanted this for some time now.

"Give me a kiss, girl," he told her simply, and she leaned in, lips parted, giving him a long, passionate kiss that had you squirming. You realized they had quite a few people staring at them, including a couple that you recognized. You flushed hotly. Shamar treated you like you didn't exist.

"Come on girl, back to my bed. Boy, you can listen. You do enough of that as it is. She'll see you in two weeks."