Page 28

DAVINA

“Make sure your core is nice and firm, Davina.”

I glanced up at my Pilates instructor, Betsy, a passive-aggressive blond woman with a nose so small and surgically chipped away she may as well not have had one. She forced a smile at me, then sauntered away to criticize the next victim.

Okay. So, I’d gotten a little out of shape the last couple of months. Sue me. The last thing that’d been on my mind was working out. I remembered now why I’d stopped coming to this Pilates class with Tish before Lew passed away. Betsy was a B-I-T-C-H .

A loud thump sounded behind me, and then a sharp gasp pierced the air. I looked at Octavia, who had collapsed from her kneeling side kicks.

“You must keep your core engaged , Octavia!” Betsy shrilled from across the room.

Octavia grimaced at me, and I snorted a laugh.

When class concluded and we left the building, Octavia said, “Remind me to never do another class like that with you ever again.”

“Oh, I won’t be returning. Trust me,” I laughed, rubbing the back of my neck. “I forgot how hard it was.”

Inside the car, Octavia took big gulps of water before stabbing me with a glare. “Betsy out here thinking we all have cores built like Roman soldiers. Like, girl—we are not all made like you! Some of us love cake!”

I broke out in a laugh as I started the engine. Octavia was going to be with me for a few weeks, since she was no longer nannying that spoiled kid she always talked about. His parents had let her go, said they didn’t like what she was teaching him. I knew exactly what my sister was teaching that kid: manners .

We drove to our favorite smoothie spot, and as we waited at the drive-through, Octavia gasped and said, “Oh snap! Did you see this?”

“See what?”

“Look.” She gave me her phone, and the first thing I saw was an image of Deke in his basketball uniform midair as he released the ball. Then there was an image of a familiar beautiful bronze-looking woman with slightly oversize lips and long, glossy black hair.

Giselle Grace. The picture was split in half to showcase both of them. It was an article.

“Tavia, I don’t wanna read this.” I handed the phone back to her. Truthfully, I did want to read it, but I already felt bad enough about Deke’s last email. The last thing I wanted was to be reminded of him.

“Didn’t you say you keep in touch with him?” my sister asked, eyeing me.

“Here and there, yeah.” I grabbed the smoothies from the employee at the drive-through window. “But I don’t need to know about his love life.”

I thanked the worker and drove away, glad Octavia had her smoothie and could keep her mouth busy with that.

But of course, when we got home, she blurted out, “Why don’t you just fuck him already?”

“Octavia!” I frowned as I dropped my keys and purse on the kitchen countertop.

“What? I’m just asking. If I had direct contact with an NBA player, I’d be getting my fix. You know they’re my kryptonite. I usually hate men, but an NBA or NFL player could get it—but only because I know they won’t cling to me, you know? They’ve got other stuff to worry about. Plus, they’re consumed with their careers.”

“Well, it’s not like that with Deke, so I wish you and Tish would stop trying to make nothing into something.”

“Okay, look. I get it. You lost Lew, and that was hard. It still is hard! I can’t imagine what you feel walking into this house every single day and seeing pictures of him at every corner.”

I swallowed, trying not to search the walls and shelves for said photos.

“Lew was like a brother to me, and I loved him, but you can’t possibly think you’ll never be serious with another man again, Vina. Come on. You’re thirty-two, not eighty-two.”

“I don’t want to be serious with anyone else, Octavia.” I grabbed my strawberry-banana smoothie and finished it off.

“So you don’t plan on dating or getting married ever again?” she asked, hand on her hip.

I cocked a brow. “Do you?”

She pointed a stern finger at me. “You don’t get to do that! You know I hate dating.” She visibly shuddered. “Such a waste of time.”

I smirked.

“You can’t say you haven’t at least thought about it,” my sister went on. “At least a quick fuck or a fuck-buddy type of thing.”

I tossed my empty smoothie cup into the trash bin. “You know, before he died, Lewis told me I could move on and find love again. He said I deserved to be happy.” I looked into my sister’s eyes, giving my head a light shake. “But I just don’t see how that’s possible when he’s the one who made me feel that way.”

“Aw. Sis.” Octavia set her cup down and walked to me. When she wrapped her arms around me, I rested my cheek on her shoulder. “But how will you ever know what else makes you happy if you don’t give it a chance?”

“It’s too soon.”

“Well, why not go back to what I said and just fuck the basketball player? Nothing else has to happen.”

I huffed a laugh. “I can tell Deke wants something more than that from me. There’s this look in his eye ... a longing. I don’t think I can give him what he’s looking for.”

“Let me ask you this. Have you fucked anyone since Lew died?”

“Oh my— what ?” I pulled away from her, flabbergasted. “Why is that your business?”

“I’m just asking!”

I turned away and busied myself with turning on the faucet and washing some of the dirty dishes. There was no way I was about to answer that. The answer was embarrassing, to say the least.

No, I hadn’t slept with anyone. The last time Lewis and I did anything was months before he passed, right before his cancer became worse. I hate saying it, but I could hardly remember what that last time with him was like. His head was somewhere else, and he was already losing his confidence.

I had to be honest with myself, though. I did miss sex. When Lew was sick, my vibrator was my best friend, but vibrators can only do so much for a woman.

What I really craved was intimacy. I wanted to be owned, pleased, to submit to a man ... and the thought had crossed my mind that Deke could be the person to dominate me. But having sex with Deke Bishop wouldn’t have been right unless that was all it was for him too. Just sex.

Octavia got a FaceTime call from our little brother, Abe, and dropped the conversation, much to my relief. After chatting with Abe, taking a shower, and checking a few work emails, I ventured back to the string of emails I shared with Deke.

His last one really got to me. Every fiber inside me wanted to respond just to let him know he was doing absolutely nothing wrong. He literally was doing everything right , but I didn’t deserve that. All that time and energy he was investing in me would be for naught, and he needed more than that.

I figured if I stopped emailing and being so personal, then he’d get the point and move on. It’d been three days now, and he hadn’t sent any more, so perhaps the message was received.

That night, I lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling. I had my vibrator fully charged and grasped in hand, my eyes closed, and memories of my husband on my mind.

I thought about all the good times we shared, all the amazing sex we had before he was diagnosed, his beautiful face and soulful eyes. How deeply connected we felt when he was inside me.

I closed my eyes and moaned as I started the vibrator and placed it between my thighs, clinging to that feeling, but the closer I got to coming, the more his face changed.

His skin became darker, his jawline sharper, and his eyes lowered to calm, downward slits. The hazel shifted to deep brown, and the hairless face was covered in scruff.

I sucked in a breath, scrambling for that image of Lewis again, searching for it behind my eyelids, but it was gone. It’d been replaced by the man I was trying desperately hard to avoid.

I. Was. Imagining. Deke. Bishop.

I wanted to stop—to bring this fantasy to an end—but the vibrator felt too good, and I was close. So close.

I remembered his hand on the small of my back at the party and how badly I’d wanted him to lower that hand to cup my ass. How his warm breath brushed my ear as he lowered himself to my height to murmur the words Look who’s blushing now.

Oh, yeah. I was done for.

I detonated on the bed, bringing a pillow to my face and crying out my orgasm as I let the vibrator finish me off.

When the climax settled, I moved the pillow away, clicked the vibrator off, and muttered the word fuck .

It was clear to me now. Deke was in my head, and having sex with him was exactly what my body needed.