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I try not to picture Desiree and Cannon in any sexual scenario. “I’m not bothered by your friendship with Cannon.”
She nods once. “Good.”
I push through the door of the ladies’ room and slip into one of the empty stalls. Desiree is leaning against the counter when I step out to wash my hands. “So… Gio?” I smirk.
The smile that spreads across her pretty face is blinding, and that of a woman in love. “Gio and I are a complicated mess, but we’re working through our issues one day at a time.” Her expression turns apologetic. “The thing with Victor wasn’t serious. Gio and I had just broken up and I needed a distraction. If I had known—”
I shake my head. “Victor is in the past. He was bad for me—for anyone really.” I shrug.
“You’re right about that,” she agrees.
Grabbing the handle, I swing open the bathroom door and step out, slamming into a hard body.
Desiree gasps behind me. “Oh.” I stumble. “I’m so sorry.”
A pair of hands grips my upper arms to steady me. “You should watch where you’re going, kitten.”
I jerk my gaze up, lock eyes with Victor, and let out a strangled gasp.
“What are you doing here?” Desiree snaps.
He throws her a scathing look that sends a chill down my spine. “I’m here for the same reason you are. Charity.” His gaze shifts back to me, raking over me from head to toe, and he grins. His gaze slides briefly to Desiree, then back to me.
“We should get back,” Desiree says, hooking her arm around mine again and leading me away.
“See you around, Makayla,” Victor calls out.
“Why did that feel like a threat?” I murmur.
“Because it was,” she says. “He is one unstable man.”
THIRTY-TWO
CANNON
Makayla stands at the mirror blow-drying her hair, and the long blonde locks floating around her face reminds me of graduation day outside the auditorium. She was pure perfection in my eyes. Pretty and sweet, just like her perfume.And her pussy.
Tucking my arms behind my head, I watch in fascination as she twists her hair into a fancy bun and fastens it at the nape of her neck. It’s such a trivial thing but I want to watch her do it every morning. It’s been so long since I’ve been in a relationship, and the last woman I lived with was Desiree, so I don’t know the proper etiquette for asking my girlfriend to move in. If I had my way, I’d just move all her stuff over while she was at work, but I’m not going to bulldoze her to get my way.
Turning from the mirror, she walks out of the bathroom, dressed in only her bra and panties, and crosses the room to where her dress is hanging on the closet door. She’s tall and willowy, and moves with the grace of a ballerina. On the outside, she appears delicate, but on the inside, she’s fierce and the strongest young woman I’ve ever met.
She steps into her dress, pushing her arms through the sleeves, and reaches for the zipper.
“Need some help?” I ask.
She gasps as she spins around to face me with a hand pressed to her chest. “You scared me.” She sashays over to my side of the bed and smiles down at me. “Did I wake you?”
“Only because you’re not in this bed beside me.” I gesture for her to turn around so I can zip up her dress. Then I curl an arm around her waist and pull her on top of me. “I miss you already.”
“I haven’t even left yet.” She wiggles from my hold and stands from the bed, smoothing out her dress.
My lips pull to the side in a lazy grin. “Every minute away from my girlfriend is a minute too long.”
She purses her lips, amused.
“It’s true,” I confess.
I’m crazy in love with this woman.