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Continued from #RelationshipGoals: The Coldest Summer Ever

A good first kiss will lead you to believe in love and the possibility of you sharing love with the person on the other side of that liplock. A bad first kiss will have you doubt that there’s any chemistry at all between you two. A confusing first kiss will just leave you confused.

Langston pulled himself out of the kiss as I continued to lean in. Drunk on the liplock, I blinked and opened my eyes to see him leaning back and smiling. He had the second half of his Po’ Boy in his hand and was ready to take a bite. Meanwhile, I was ready to take a bite out of him. I thought the feeling was mutual, but his complete shift in focus and energy threw me off.

Langston laughed, “So good right?”

I couldn’t tell if he was talking about our kiss or the Po’ Boy. “What is? The sandwich?” I asked.

“Yeah, you like it?” Langston asked. I thought he was joking, but he wasn’t smirking.

I leaned back into my seat, confused. “Yeah, it’s really good. Melts in my mouth,” I said with an attitude.

We finished our food and kept the conversation light–where was the last place you traveled, what’s your favorite Prince song. We compared the list of celebrities we’ve met and the entire time Langston’s mood was positive and mine was starting to sink. I couldn’t get the kiss out of my head, especially because of the way he pulled himself out of it.

I didn’t want to nag this new man in my life about the kiss, but I couldn’t get over it. I was clear that he liked me. His body language said it all–he liked holding my hand, he’d swap sides with me when we walked so that he was always on the side where the street was, he’d ask follow-up questions after I shared details about my life with him and there was a look in his eyes every time he looked at me.

By the time we made it back to the hotel, my plan was to get another kiss to assess whether or not Langston would get weird again. We stopped in front of the hotel and Langston held on to my hand. I started leaning in and Langston interrupted my agenda and said, “I’ll walk you upstairs.”

I smiled at the idea of Langston playing it cool, but knew that this was my chance to get that kiss and maybe more. “OK, great. Did you have fun?”

“I had a great time with you,” Langston said in his thick New Orleans accent.

“Let’s do it again tomorrow. It’s my last night here,” I said, sneakily trying to solidify a second date with my stadium bae.

“We can do that. I work, so it’ll be another late night.”

We were at my door and I immediately cooed, “Want to come in?”

“I can’t. I just wanted to walk you upstairs. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Langston leaned in and deliberately kissed me on the cheek, even with my lips perched and ready for a smooch.

I tried to hide the disappointment in my face, “Yeah, see you tomorrow buddy.” I slapped Langston on his arm and went inside my room.

I was laying in bed when I received a text from Langston. “Thanks for a really good night. Looking forward to more.”

Again he confirmed that he actually was into me, but I was still stuck on the kiss –or the lack thereof.

That night at the show, I sat in Langston’s section by coincidence. A friend of mine had amazing seats –5th row center –and because that night featured Kendrick Lamar and Diddy’s Bad Boy Reunion Tour, I made an easy decision to sit with her.

After Kendrick’s set, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Langston smiling at me with that thick, gorgeous beard of his almost hiding his smile. “What’s up?”

“Hey you,” I said.

“I’m going to text you,” Lanston said before walking back to his post.

“You look nice,” Langston text me.

“Same to you buddy,” I wrote back.

“This is my work uniform. I look like everyone else.”

“Except that you make it look good,” I said, flirting with him.

“That’s why I like you, you know how to make a n-gga feel good.”

Once Diddy came on, my attention turned to getting good Snapchat videos and dancing until I sweat, and I did.

Langston walked by me, putting his phone in my hand, “Take some pics for me.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that simple notion. Langston trusted me enough to have his phone. I wanted so badly to look in his text messages to see if I could find some evidence of him having a wife or jealous girlfriend. But I didn’t. I did what he asked and a little extra. I took a few selfies so that when he found them later, he’d think of me.

A couple of minutes later, Langston walked by me and asked for his phone. I handed it off. “Thanks baby,” he replied. His tongue sounded like it was dipped in New Orleans –slow, thick and southern. He sounded as delicious as he looked.

After the show, I text him that me and some of my girls were headed out, but I still wanted to see him after. He wrote back that he was going out as well, but to the Diddy after party and he would definitely come see me after. “I’m not staying that long,” he wrote.

My girls and I went out, and after a significant amount of drinks, I hit Langston to let him know I was ready to see him. No response. More drinks. Another text. No response. My inebriation and anxiety around getting to see Langston that night was starting to work together in my disadvantage.

“Why are you playing around? You said you wanted to see me tonight.” I wrote and deleted and wrote the same message again and hit send. No response.

An hour later, I was headed back to the hotel. I’d given up on seeing Langston. I was hurt because it was my last night in New Orleans and I wanted to spend it with him.

I crawled into bed and got a text from Langston, “Hey baby. I’m sorry I don’t think I’m going to get to see you tonight.”

I didn’t respond. He then wrote, “Can I see you in the morning before your flight?”

A glimmer of hope flickered within me and I wrote back, “Yes.”

“Good, I’ll be at your hotel at 7 am,” Langston wrote back.

I ended up passing out and woke up that morning around 8 am. I checked my phone to see if I missed a message or call from Langston. At 5 am, he wrote, “I can’t come. I was called into work. Have a safe flight.”

I looked around the decadent hotel room and I wanted to scream. The way my lust was set up from the moment I met Langston, I couldn’t help but be frustrated. The signals I received from him were nothing short of confusing, but I wasn’t ready to give up on Langston.

I wrote back, “I’m so sad to miss you. I enjoyed meeting you and hope that that kiss we shared is something worth building.”

“We’ll see,” Langston wrote with a kiss emoji.

We’ll see indeed.

Stay tuned for next week’s column to see what happens with me and Langston.

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