Page 46 of Between Passion and Revenge, Part One (The Griot Chronicles #1)

SHAE

“ S hae Olivya Rivers, if you don’t open this goddamn motherfuckin’ door, I swear to god !” Yenn’s shrill shout has me wanting to smother her with a pillow, but it’s not like I didn’t expect her to come banging on my door as soon as Storm left.

Storm…who has my mind tied up seventy-five different ways.

What the hell am I doing here?

There’s so much I’m having to trust fall myself into accepting. Things like his loving me.

Holy hell.

“ Shaaaaaaae! ” Yenn screeches, and Ezra’s voice pierces through her diatribe to shout, “For the love of god, please open the goddamn door so she can stop fucking screaming!”

I rush to let Yenn in, aware I’ve already scandalized-slash-pissed off Ezra enough today. I can’t believe I let Storm finger me on the kitchen island.

If Yenn’d done that, I’d be wanting to break the fucking lease.

Flushed and embarrassed, I fling the door open wide, not waiting to acknowledge her entrance before diving back beneath my sheets and twisting myself into a cocoon.

“Oh-ho, no you don’t, ma’am,” she drawls, her voice close to my ear. “You’re not gonna run from me, babes. You’ve got some ‘splain’ to do!”

Bouncing on my bed like a demented bunny, she jostles me until I fling myself out of the covers.

“Fine!” I shout, throwing my hands in the air before plopping them on my thighs. “First, I’m sorry for the kitchen.”

Yenn snorts. “You don’t sound sorry.”

I flush, my face getting hot.

“Well, I am.”

Yenn waves away the comment. “You know what the hell I’m here for. How was it? Is he big? Did he make you come? How many times?”

“Yenn!” I shout, a nugget of amusement tickling my face. “First, the sex was great. Amazing. The rest of your questions I will never answer.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Shae!” she shouts, leaning back as she closes her eyes, wounded.

“No, ma’am,” I snap, holding up a finger like a schoolteacher. “Hard boundary.”

She grumbles something, but I’m so tired now that Storm is gone that I don’t care to figure out what she’s saying.

Also, it’s likely something like, “Well, we had boundaries not to fuck anyone where we eat and look where that got us.”

Yenn crosses her arms, eyeing me with a mix of concern and playful curiosity.

“All right, all right,” she concedes, “I won’t pry about the details. But Shae, listen to me. Storm is…well, he’s stormy. Intense, yes, but fleeting. You can’t let yourself get caught in the downpour.”

“Well, hell, if that wasn’t an allegory to end all allegories,” I drawl.

Yenn holds her hands out like that one meme of Oprah.

“Don’t ignore the truth, babes,” she counters.

I nod, the weight of her words landing in my gut.

“I know, Yenn. I’m not looking for anything serious. He’s just…a distraction.”

The lie tastes like ash, but I force a smile.

“Exactly,” Yenn affirms, pointing a finger at me. “Have your fun, enjoy the ride, but remember, he’s got major fuckboy vibes. Don’t get dazzled by his Maybach or do something stupid like fall in love.”

Yenn spits the word “love” like it’s poison. A new development?

I force a smile. “I’m not falling in love with him, Yenn.”

Then I say the part that feels so wrong.

“I’m moving to Massachusetts in a few months,” maybe , “I’m not about to start something I can’t finish.”

Yenn’s eyes soften, and she reaches out to squeeze my hand. “Good. Because you, my dear, are going to set the world on fire with that MBA. Don’t let anyone, not even a guy with a smile that could melt icebergs, stand in the way of that.”

After Yenn leaves, I lie back on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one fighting for attention.

I replay Yenn’s words, trying to convince myself she’s right.

I shouldn’t be trying to start anything serious with Storm.

Especially when I’m on the cusp of a new chapter in my life.

But my body betrays me, remembering the way Storm’s touch set me on fire, the way us dancing and singing in the kitchen had me floating on air.

I shake my head as if to dislodge the memories. I can’t afford to get lost in daydreams about a man who’s all wrong for me.

There are so many emotions surging through me at one time, and I can’t process them all.

Harvard MBA.

My parents and their expectations.

Storm Sandoval.

What the hell am I doing here, really?

“Tell me I don’t love you.”

God, that part of this is like walking on a tightrope. He didn’t just say it once. He said it three times.

And the problem is…I don’t think he’s joking. I think he’s completely serious.

For now.

Coming down from cloud nine hurts, but I have to face it: Storm Sandoval says he loves me, and I don’t know what to do about that.

Are you mine, Shae?

The muscles in my thighs tighten when I think about those words because damn, if him claiming me doesn’t have me in a spin. He says he’s as serious as a heart attack, and I believe him.

I believe I am Storm Sandoval’s girl.

But for how long?

Just have fun.

The thought is a whisper, but it’s the only idea that seems…not terrifying.

Just have fun with Storm. I can do that. I’ll leave the rest for Future Shae to figure out. I’ll let myself feel what I feel for Storm….

…I’ll feel the emotion that seems a whole lot like falling in love.

My phone buzzes, and I pick it up blindly, squinting with one eye to see the screen.

I need your pussy back in my mouth ASAP.

I smile.

This is simple. He has my body, and my heart is all tangled up in this. But as long as I remember the odds are against us, I’ll be safe.

I just need to stay rooted in reality.

With a newfound sense of determination, I send Storm a text.

Dinner tonight?

I send it with a devil emoji because this is me having fun. Easy. Not serious.

I’m playing with fire—I know this. But for once, I’m not afraid of getting burned. I’m ready to embrace the heat.