Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Boat nice. Got it, but what about him? How is he?”
“Dangerous.” I flop down onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling. “He kisses like a god and finger-fucks me like I’m his whore.”
“Love that for you. I think the way to your heart will ultimately run straight through that pussy.” Neevah cackles. “But why is that dangerous?”
“I told you how my brother is about him. Cliff just got better. I can’t do that to him. Or at least, he can’t find out what I’m doing. I’m giving in to this for two weeks, and then it’s over. It’s a fling.”
“What if Naz doesn’t want it to stop at the end of two weeks? What if you don’t? Do you just sacrifice your happiness because of your brother’s misplaced bitterness?”
“No.” I close my eyes and release a troubled sigh. “I’ll figure it out. I just want… I need this, Neeve.”
In the silence between us, all the disappointments I’ve experienced over the years convene.
“You know the hell dating has been for me.” I toy with a braid that slipped from my top knot. “Tinder disasters, blind dates, unsatisfying hook-ups, wannabe sugar daddies.”
“Whew, chile. If one more old man tries to pay your rent.”
“One day I’mma take it. Just lemme get tired of paying my own way. RIP to my feminism,” I chuckle.
“Remember that last one offered you his ‘vintage classic,’ as he called it?”
“But why was it a Cutlass Supreme?” I pull my knees up to my chest and roll to my side, shaking with laughter.
There’s nobody I’d rather laugh with than Neevah. We’ve been together a long time. Roommates in New York when we were both scraping and scratching to make it. We’ve supported each other through every tiny break and vowed that when the big one came, we’d bring the other up, too.
And that’s exactly what Neevah did when she was cast in Dessi Blue. It changed both our lives. There’s no one I trust more.
“Neeve, I’ve never wanted anyone like this,” I whisper, the confession slipping out before I can stop it. “I hadn’t been on the ship an hour and this man was knuckle-deep in me.” I sit up straight for emphasis, even though she cannot see me. “Inside me, Neeve, and he could’ve gotten it. Day one.”
“I mean, half the Tinder first dates we know end in sex. How would that be any different?”
“Because he’s different, and I have a feeling it won’t be just sex.” My shoulders slump with the truth, under the weight of that statement. “That with him, it could never be.”
“I know that feeling well,” Neevah says on a contented sigh. “You don’t ignore that, even if it feels fast or impossible. If it’s real, you find a way, but you’ll never know if you don’t try.”
“But Cliff—”
“Is a grown-ass man,” Neevah snaps with uncharacteristic sharpness. “You know I feel for all he’s gone through. Who flew with you to Houston when he OD’d?”
“You did.”
“And I would again in a heartbeat. You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You’re closer to me than my own sister.”
“Girl, that Terry is a low bar,” I chuff out an exasperated breath because I wanted to throw hands more than once with that sister of hers.
“No lies detected there, but she’s getting better and working on herself. My point is, your happiness means as much to me as my own, and I’ll fight anybody standing in the way of you being happy. Even your own brother, especially when his disapproval of Naz is so twisted. That boy needs therapy, not enabling.”
“You’re right.” I nod. “Janice and I have both been trying to get him to talk to someone. He’s an addict. He has a sponsor, but that’s not enough. There’s a lot he needs to work through.”
“And I don’t want you leaving something special on the table because Cliff hasn’t worked through his shit yet. Don’t hold back these two weeks. See if this could be anything and deal with Cliff later. Your very own fairy tale.”
“A modern one. Boy meets girl. Girl gets flown out. Girl gets spoiled and bent over.”
“Oh, we are here for Black girls getting spoiled and bent over.”
“And do!” I let my laughter rise and fall before going on softly. “Thank you, Neeve. I love you, girl.”
“Neevah.” I hear Canon’s deep rumbling voice through the phone. “Baby, we’re late.”
“And we know how obsessive your man is about time,” I say dryly. “Tell him I said hey.”
“Takira says hey,” she purrs, a smile in her voice I only hear when Canon is around.
“Hey, Takira,” he calls. “You’re making us late.”
“You know how he gets.” Neevah laughs. “I better go.”
“Girl, bye.”
“Keep me posted,” she says before we hang up.
I perch on the edge of the bed for a moment, absorbing the almost undetectable motion of gentle waves lapping at the sides of the yacht. I steep in the cool opulence of this cabin. My stomach growls at the promise of the world-class menu the chef detailed when we first boarded.