Page 19 of And Everything In Between (Love By Any Means #3)

Sunday afternoon sun filtered through the park trees where the women had spread their blanket for their weekly check-in.

Between mom life, work, and marriage, they'd promised not to forget each other.

Blake sprawled across the blanket popping grapes like royalty, unbothered and unapologetic, the way she'd always been.

Taylor had her nose in a book while Kennedi was being Kennedi.

Children's laughter drifted from the nearby playground when Paige asked, “What’s a girl to do, y’all?”

Her friends all looked up at once, replies tumbling over each other like they'd been waiting for this very question since she told them about Giovanni.

“Call him,” Blake urged.

“Jump on that. Immediately,” Kennedi added.

The group cracked up like this was all a joke. But Paige wasn’t laughing. Her thumb hovered over her phone screen like her thumb was broken. This wasn’t light. She didn’t need jokes, she needed her girls to talk her off the ledge or push her over it. No in between.

“I feel ganged up on,” Paige muttered, sliding her shades down enough to show the war going on behind her eyes.

Everyone was chilling, living their best life, while Paige’s romantic hesitation was eating her alive.

“That’s because you are doing too much. The man sat with your daddy. That ain’t a red flag, that’s a husband starter kit. What’s not clicking?”

Taylor chimed in from her spot on the edge of the blanket, casually reading on her Kindle, while keeping one eye on Denver, who was attempting to climb the baby slide.

“Girl, it’s been a week. He left the ball in your court, and you haven’t bounced it once. That’s just disrespectful.”

Kennedi leaned forward from her camping chair, designer sunglasses pushed up into her hair like she’d been waiting for this moment, and she had. She’d missed her girls and being a part of their daily lives. Now that she was back, she had thoughts.

“Exactly. Stop trying to protect your peace so hard that you miss the party. That man is fine, available, and acting right. What else do you want? A notarized letter? A chariot? Or that little naked baby?”

Paige smirked, adjusting her head scarf. “I’m saying, I don’t need a man right now. I just peeled JT off me. I ain’t jumping back into anybody’s arms. I’m not pressed.”

“And again. JT never mattered and never counted.”

Two weeks had passed since Giovanni stopped traffic for her and rearranged her priorities, and one week since their spontaneous trip to the drag strip.

She hadn’t called, and neither had he. The silence had killed her softly.

She spent her nights wondering if the feeling in her chest was heartburn or a sign from God.

“I guess we had fun, and maybe we should leave it at that.” Paige shrugged, but her friends could see right through her. “He’s got his business and TV show. I got my shit.”

“Mmm,” Blake drawled, tossing a grape in her mouth. “You’re lying.”

“I’m saying,” Paige doubled down, “It’s fast and you know I don’t play the radio with men.”

“Fast is relative,” Blake said, dropping another grape in her mouth. “It’s not fast if it feels right.”

“And how would she know? She hasn’t even picked up the phone,” Taylor added. “I’ve never known you to be a scary hoe.”

“Bitch, please. Ain’t no hoe in me. That’s what got me in this conundrum now,” Paige kissed her teeth with a sly grin, because she had indeed been a hoe. Her thumb still hovered over the unsent message. “What if he was being nice? What if it was a one-time thing?”

“If if was a fifth, we’d all be drunk,” Taylor said, rolling her eyes. “Learn from us, friend. We ran when we should’ve been leaning in.”

“Speak for yourself,” Blake cut in. “I made Emon work for it, but I never ran. There was no way I was letting somebody else have my man.” She locked eyes with Paige.

“If there’s a slim chance you’d be ready to go toe-to-toe with a woman the way you handled Clarisha back in the day, then call the man. ”

Paige was full of shit, and she knew it. Giovanni had made it very clear, she’d signed her name to an invisible agreement. It simply hadn’t gone into effect yet.

“If he’s anything like the men over there, you can run, girl, but you can’t hide. He will continue to pursue you. It’s a game now, and you’re the prey. Enjoy or grow a pair and let the man love you. It’s easier that way.”

“Because what are we even talking about?” Kennedi threw her hands up, bangles jingling at her wrists. “If you don’t call that man and let him know you thinking about him, I will. And I’ll say it was from all of us.”

They all laughed, but Paige sat with it for a second; her head was starting to ache, mostly because everyone was acting like this was supposed to be simple.

You didn’t just hand your heart over. And he hadn’t reached out either.

She didn’t give a damn about the ball being in her court. She expected him to check in on her.

“Y’all know why I’m hesitating. Why y’all playing?”

“Perry told me himself that he liked Gio. And only a real man would do what he did for you,” Blake said. “And who you keep getting ready to text?”

“It’s work.”

“Girl, it’s Sunday. You gotta stop using that line,” Taylor added with a giggle.

“Still,” Paige said, chin lifted, “Y’all know me. I’m good. I’m focused. I’m booked. I’m-”

“-full of shit,” Blake interrupted. Causing the group to fall out in laughter.

“And you said he still got that kitty purring two weeks later. I would’ve been folded,” Kennedi added.

Paige rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. “I ain’t say all that.”

But the truth was worse. She still felt him, everywhere. She smelled him. The way he said her name lingered. Things had shifted, stupid shit, like her playlist. She’d been on cloud nine since that night. But she couldn’t give in so soon, and with no guarantees. Absolutely not.

Emon approached the blanket, his grin wide as he caught the tail end of their conversation. He had one-year-old EJ on his back.

“Y’all still harassing my dawg about my cousin?” he asked, setting EJ down with a sippy cup.

Paige shot him a warning look. “Don’t join them, please.”

“Too late,” Emon replied, his smile knowing and slightly too smug. “G, told me everything.”

“Everything?” Paige repeated, heat creeping up her neck.

“Enough,” Emon clarified, winking. “Look, he’s out of town until Wednesday. The TV deal is moving, especially after the footage from the car show. You see it?”

“No, I haven’t. I witnessed it.”

“Look at it,” Emon nodded like he knew something she didn’t.

“See?” Kennedi pounced immediately. “That’s even more reason to call him. You got time to get your shit together without him showing up at your door looking all fine and throwing off your concentration.”

“Plus,” Blake added, leaning back on her elbows, “absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or the coochie get lonelier. Either way, it works in your favor.”

“Blake!” Paige laughed despite herself, tossing a cracker at her cousin.

“What? I’m only saying what we’re all thinking,” Blake shrugged, unrepentant.

The park bustled around them, families enjoying the perfect weather, couples walking hand in hand, life happening in all its messy, beautiful chaos.

Two weeks ago, she’d been drowning in responsibility, barely keeping her head above water. Today, she sat among family, feeling lighter somehow, even though nothing about her circumstances had changed. Except for one thing.

Giovanni Dowlen had walked into her life with those knowing eyes and open arms, offering something she didn’t know she was allowed to want, presence without demands, support without strings, space without abandonment. But her favorite of all, consistency.

Maybe her friends were right. Maybe it was time to stop fighting the current. Maybe it was time to make the call. But maybe they were wrong and love didn’t come so easy to others like it did for them.

But first, before she let her doubts take over her mind and stress her even more, she walked to her car and pulled out her phone. She needed to see the video.

She opened Instagram and smiled when his face popped up in her feed.

Scroll after scroll, the car show filled her screen, him shaking hands, laughing with kids, posing in front of his builds, and others.

Her mind wandered to that night. The way he’d handled her body with care each time.

He’d gifted her enough orgasms to hold her over for another year.

The breakfast and the foot rub. Any woman would be beating down his door. So why wasn’t she?

Pulling herself from her reminiscing, she found the video and hit play. She was expecting a general recap of pictures of the cars, smiling kids, and the vendors. But halfway through, the clip slowed and rewound, then played in slow motion, the moment he stepped out of his car and saw her.

Her hand flew to her mouth as butterflies filled her belly. She looked around like someone was watching her before pressing play again.

She watched him walk toward her like she was the only thing he saw. Like he’d been waiting to find her in a crowd of noise and movement.

Her friends were right, she did want this.

She’d been praying for someone to look at her like he did.

To handle her with the kind of care that was personal and custom, like his Monte.

She wanted someone to offer something she didn’t have to chase, visit, compromise, or survive in order to have.

One day, she’d trust enough. Be shown enough.

Her fear was letting go of her apprehension and then losing herself.

She couldn’t gamble with her heart; it was too sensitive, too tender for games and playing around with no regard for other people.

She didn’t get that vibe from Giovanni, but a man could say anything to get what he wanted.

And he had for sure said all the right things.

But as she watched the video for the third time, she muttered, “Maybe it is Giovanni.”

#

Los Angeles