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“This is because of that boy, isn’t it? You weren’t thinking about nothing outside of going to school, getting your degree, and making something of yourself.” There’s so much sadness, so much disappointment in his voice that I finally do cry, sniffing and tilting my head back to keep the tears from flowing.

“You had your whole life laid out since you were ten, and now you’re just…lost.”

With a sigh, Daddy rises from his recliner and takes slow steps up the stairs without saying another word.

Mama’s still after he disappears to the second floor, and I don’t break the silence. Instead, I let the tears fall, dropping my head onto the arm of the sofa.

“We’re going to talk about this more, just you and I,” Mama says, ushering me to sit up so she can slide onto the sofa. She resettles my head in her lap beneath a pillow.

“Just give your daddy a minute,” she says, running her palm over my head. “And if you remember one thing, remember this: Fear may be loud, but God will never lead you wrong. You just need to pray about it.”

I soak in her words, my tears finally slowing. I still have no idea what I’m going to do, but I know right now, with my Mama rubbing my head, I’m going to allow myself the gift of zoning out.

Mama reaches for the remote.

“What season is this?” she asks.

“Season four.”

She hums and restarts the show.

“I love this show too. I’m so angry they cancelled it so abruptly like that,” she says.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice faint.

Mama stills, and I can tell she’s looking at me from the side of my gaze. After a moment, she leans down and places a quick kiss on my hairline.

“Everything is all gonna work out, baby. All in God’s timing. Amen?”

I allow myself to fall back into the show, jealous that life isn’t like a sitcom, and big life decisions can’t be solved in twenty-two minutes.

“Yeah,” I murmur. “Amen.”

31

SHAE

As Storm bottoms out inside me when I rock down on his dick, all I can think is that I’m failing epically at this wholejust-have-funthing.

“Fuck, Sweetness. You have no fucking idea how insane it is being inside you.” Storm thrums my clit as I ride him in the driver’s seat of his Porsche. He decided to take us up the spiral of his parking garage so we could look out over the city from one of the highest points around downtown.

Luckily, it’s deserted this high up.

“Storm,” I whimper. “I’m gonna come.” The inside of my thighs are on fire both from the friction of rubbing against his bunched jeans and the fact that he ripped a hole in my stockings to get access to my pussy.

Storm presses harder on my clit, using his other hand as a collar around my throat. When he presses to the side of my neck, he blocks the nerves there and I’m overcome with a rush of euphoria at the sensation.

“Storm!” I shout into the humid car, coming so hard the sides of my vision go fuzzy.

“Fuck, fuck,fuck! Shae, I fucking love you,” he grinds out, and I gasp, everything—my brain, my heart, my pussy—seizing at the words as he spills inside me.

When our movements slow, I slide my eyes closed and kiss him, unwilling to let the moment go.

Because I’m stupid, dangerously, obsessively in love with him, and that’s the worst thing I could have ever done.

Just have fun, my ass.

I try to pull away from him, but he bands his arms around my back, keeping me crushed into his chest.