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“Real,” she breathed softly.
I waited as she buried her face against my neck.
“When’s the last time a woman broke things off with you?”
“Love—"
“Just answer,” she insisted.
All right, I could do this stupid shit. I thought. And thought. And thought some damn more. I’d had a couple of girlfriends, dated a few more, and fucked a lot more. I was trying to find an exception because I didn’t want to prove her point, but I already knew the answer. I shifted uncomfortably.
“Never,” I mumbled.
I had always called the shots, had resisted developing feelings too deep and getting too serious. This…thingwith Love sneaked up on me.
“Right. So, my choice was an anomaly. Everly the Exception, and that has the irresistible Montréal Hamilton stuck. Let it go, Real. Your record is still almost undefeated. You’re batting .999.”
She kissed the side of my neck and then my cheek.
“Go back to South Texas and pretend I never happened.”
This woman provoked feelings in me I’d never experienced, meaning she could piss me off like no other. That was all her words did. I grilled her ass. She’d taken her wig off and unraveled her hair, so I was able to slide a hand into the thick, sandy brown and dark blonde coils that still surprised me. I made a loose fist and tugged her head back. Reluctantly, she looked at me.
“If I could do that, Love, you think I’d be here?” I asked tightly.
I wasn't ready.Despite what my therapist and my granny said, despite what I had told myself, I wasn't ready to face a room full of people who weren't related to me after the way Chauncey had thrown mud on my name. I knew a lot of them had judged me, blamed me for ruining his life. I scoffed at that. I mean, I ruined his life, but I was the one standing here on the verge of bawling my eyes out because I didn't want to go to my high school reunion? Ha!
"Theory, it's gon' be just fine," my sister's voice washed over me as I held tight to one of the gray stone pillars on the back porch.
"Pip, I can't do this," I whispered.
She walked over and covered my hands, but even the beautiful energy I always felt from her wasn't enough.
"It's time, baby. You been hiding that pretty face like you did something wrong. Worried about what small-minded, jealous-hearted jackasses say. No more. You're a survivor, Theory. Let them see that shit," she said softly.
"Epiphany—"
She rubbed my hands, cutting me off.
"Breathe with me for a minute. I want you to clear your head of everything except how you're going to walk in there and your light is going to blind some of those mothafuckas. I need you calm, because the scariest thing isn't walking into that room," she said.
My eyes snapped to hers, my heart falling a little.
"What is it?"
"Facing Emory if you mess up your makeup," she teased, gifting me with one of her gorgeous smiles.
My lips curved a little at the thought. Regular Emory was a lot to handle. Pregnant Emory with a husband like Prime was impossible.
"Come on. Three counts in through your nose, six counts out through your mouth. Close your eyes and breathe."
My lids fluttered shut as I took the first cleansing breath, enjoying the sweet scent of the honeysuckle that grew all over my grandparents' property. Around the sixth breath, something new tickled my nose, something warm and a little spicy. My heart raced as every nerve ending that I had tingled. I opened my eyes and looked up into Targen's. Pip's ass had disappeared on me, leaving the man who had so readily staked his claim.
"Hey," he said. "Better now?"
Wordlessly, I nodded. He looked so good to me in his white t-shirt and gray joggers--oh, God that print definitely goes with his size. He was never going to be able to fit all of that inside me.Wait, what?I shook my head, trying to get back on track. Because why was I even thinking that, and why was my silly ass pussy jumping like she was up to the challenge? Targen just smiled slightly, like he knew what I was thinking. I was still holding on to the stone pillar and he reached for one of my hands. He paused, his hand hovering.
"Can I?"