Page 45 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls (Kissing At Work #2)

D opamine, serotonin, oxytocin.

Celene spoke to her phone, asking it to define the differences between the three.

She needed some reasoning, some justification for this boost. The hormone that guided her hand to her alarm, hitting the snooze.

It was a mostly unused button, relegated to days sick in bed.

This time, she sloshed in her sheets with the satisfying slothfulness after an episode of pleasure.

Last night, she’d hoped Skye would be down for phone sex, but damn, did they surpass her expectations.

Celene yawned through her messy hair, going right into deep belly breathing, thoughts on her girlfriend’s barely concealed moans.

She cycled through supine stretches, twists, and knees-to-chest hugs until her body woke up for a good day.

Bringing her to Harlem on a treadmill. In the inclined setting, determined to chase any feel-good hormone. She already missed it. Instead of agonizing on her own, she trekkednext to a willing workout participant.

“Byron plays pickleball and that’s the extent of his fitness.” Shanice Vale toweled her brow on the neighboring treadmill, groaning. “He could stop skipping breakfast. Or drink more water. He’s so attentive with Theo, but the man doesn’t sleep enough.”

Hearing someone else’s criticism of her father stroked a smile upon Celene’s face. “He’s a creature of habit.”

Shanice laughed, tossing the towel to catch onto the treadmill handle. “Don’t I know it. New fatherhood spooked him.”

With Nadine at the office, Celene’s list of confidantes was rather short. Though divulging to a mother-in-law was unorthodox, she knew Shanice valued their time together, giving her a new mom break.

Mavis’s call. She sighed as the treadmill flattened to the jogging stage. Celene’s necklace beat onto her chest rhythmically, timed to her pace. She’d grown to love that built-in speedometer. Shanice picked up speed, a couple of long braids escaping her ponytail.

At this hour, the gym Shanice chose contained about ten other people milling about or lifting weights: the calm before the rush of gymrats later.

Celene eyed the sitcom playing on an overhead television.

If other people weren’t checking it out now and then, she’d turn it off.

Just pointless when all one needed was music or the sound of their breaths.

Licking her lips, Celene asked, “How’s Theo? ”

Shanice smiled like she always did whenever someone brought up her bouncy baby. She’d sent Celene a video of him doing a squishy dance to the radio. It was cute, watching him find the beat. “Your brother just got over a bug, so he’s good.”

Nobody ever prepares a daughter for her father introducing a woman twenty years his junior.

Celene hadn’t been immune to the murmurings of power dynamics, intentions, and finances on both Byron and Shanice’s parts.

The six-year gap between Celene and Shanice made them peers, thus presenting boundaries she’d yet to fully understand.

Mentioning her baby must’ve activated a mommy mechanism. Shanice swiped to check for calls on her phone secured on her stand, then, in her absurdly casual way, cupped her breasts through her tank. “Let’s talk about someone else. Bringing up Theo is triggering my letdown.”

“Do you need some privacy?” Celene looked around for a restroom sign. Leaking milk seemed like a waste, not that she had ever experienced this problem.

“Thanks, no.” She pointed to her tank top, at her black sports bra underneath. “I’m wearing nursing pads, and I’ll feed the little one after this. Anyways, how’s Skye? It’s Skye, right?”

Considering her and Skye’s intimacy last night, the supreme keening of Skye coming only for her, Celene thumbed the treadmill console for more speed. “She’s good.”

Shanice’s lip curled into a face Celene hadn’t seen yet. It added cheekiness, like an expression she’d get from Nadine. “You say good, but your body language says she’s more than that.”

“Yeah, well, last night...” Then, Celene paused. Close age or not, this was her father’s wife. “Never mind.”

“Ouch, okay. I’ve never had stepchildren—eh, step- adults .” She did the opposite of Celene, slowing her speed to a brisk gait. “Am I supposed to give you advice? Birds and the bees? Dental dams?”

“Please don’t.”

Shanice smirked at the sitcom, shaking her head. “Byron’s my man and I love him, but I know how overprotective dads can be.”

“I’m not sure how much I can tell you.”

“I feel that. This is a nice step, you reaching out. It gets awkward for me, too.” She grabbed her towel again to dab her chest. “I want y’all to like me. You, Elise, Don, Bri, Big J. Well, I’m not worried about Big J?—”

Celene nodded despite that nickname. “Ajay gets along with everyone.”

“He does.” Shanice’s waxed eyebrows creased when Celene tried not to meet her eye. “I’m a businesswoman in my own right. Our time is precious. So, speak your piece. It won’t hurt my feelings if there’s a higher purpose to asking me to hang out.”

Direct. Byron needed that in his life. “Mavis called me this afternoon. We’d already sorted out Elise sending her away.”

Shanice huffed loudly, urging her to go on.

“Mavis wants to reschedule the appraiser to survey the Vale property, to estimate its worth.” Celene skipped the run slated next in her cardio sequence, hitting the right buttons for a walk at Shanice’s speed.

With a thumb and pointer, she flipped her toast pendant back and forth.

“I froze. This is what I’m working towards, seeing my progress paying off and.

..” Aware she probably came off batty, Celene met Shanice’s eyes with a tonal switch.

Voice rising, she said, “I owe so much to New York—its energy, culture, people. It shaped me. And now that career goals aren’t my priority, I can’t shake this aimlessness. ”

“It’s dynamic here, always moving, and that keeps me rooted.” With a kind smile, Shanice added, “You have a blockage, is what you’re saying. Selling the house is getting real.”

Celene gestured graciously, relieved that Byron married someone so mindful. “Very real. I figured you’d understand.”

“Your dad doesn’t have the headspace to worry about rotting decks and housing codes.”

Right, he had a fresh start with Shanice and Theo, not to mention adult children who got into petty fights.

Irritated by the guilt sinking in her stomach, she asked, “Should I ignore my doubts and tell Mavis to get the appraiser ASAP? I hate this uncertain space. It feels...” Celene noticed a notification on her phone; her heart rate accelerated when it should’ve been doing the opposite. “Just as aimless.”

“Your pictures don’t lie—the house has seriously leveled up. You haven’t gutted it of its ‘historic charm,’ as Byron calls it.” Shanice didn’t even try to hide her smile.

“It’s not a hideous blight upon Goldfinch Lane anymore. The trees are nice. It’s quiet.”

“And you have a girlfriend.”

“I do.”

“These are good things. You’re creating a home away from home with the qualities life’s not providing. Then, the city’s a few hours away, for when you want what Yielding lacks. What am I missing?”

Celene sensed a similar frustration in her arguments with Elise. Shanice deserved none of that attitude, so she watched another minute of the stupid TV show. “I can’t let them win, Shanice.”

Shanice slowed the treadmill to a stop. After stepping off, she stretched, leaving Celene no choice but to meet her eyes. “Who? Your family?”

“Who else? They use me. Constantly.” Celene’s body burned to rest, too, but she needed the distracting ache.

“Nobody cared about Dad’s vision of tree houses, cookouts, a fire pit, all that bullshit.

Elise, Don, and their partners wanted someone to get the dirty work done so they could benefit and beg me to bend to their wishes. I think the fuck not.”

“So, you’ll sell the house out of spite?”

“Yes, absolutely.” She tilted her chin low, hands grasping at the console handles. “I’ll be damned if I’m the sister burdened to take on responsibilities everyone’s too preoccupied to do themselves.”

Shanice searched the carpeting, marching her Nikes in place. Clearly, she hadn’t been prepared to tackle this step-adult’s problems. “Is that how you think they see you?”

Legs going to jelly, Celene changed her settings to cool down mode. “It’s how they treat me.”

“Listen. I’m going to be human with you right quick.

” Shanice crossed her arms, and her stern look would stop Theo in his tracks in the future.

“After a stay or two at your summer house, I had no interest in it. There, Byron’s done the happy husband thing with two other women.

I feel like I’m playing too much catch-up, competing with too much history.

Plus, as you said, it was bland.” Shanice snorted at her own comment.

“I’m on Team Sell because I have no connection to it, and Byron got depressed discussing all the changes he couldn’t do himself. I don’t need a depressed husband.”

Celene drank from her water bottle, splitting her brain between Shanice’s illuminating words and the text weighing on her phone. “I’m sorry.”

Inspired by Celene, Shanice snatched up her 64-oz tumbler and imbibed a shockingly extended mouthful.

With a shiver, she continued, “My family’s like yours.

Up in everyone else’s business, especially mine, because I’d been single for ten years before I met Byron.

Just hearing their voices would get me mad.

I didn’t want their judgments, opinions on me being picky, anything about my relationship.

Then, I gave birth.” Another gulp of water.

She shook the cup to break the ice apart inside.

“Family not even ten minutes away from me offered help, and I refused. I had Byron and my baby, and that’s all I thought I needed.

But, after the standard six-week checkup, my body still didn’t feel like my own. ”