Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“He knows my name? H-how does he know my name?”
I moved closer, wrapping an arm around him. “I told him all about you. He signed a basketball for you, by the way. All I have to do is pick it up.”
“No way.” Abe grinned a little, and I dropped a kiss on his cheek. He peeled out of my arm to finish his water, set the cup down, and said, “I’m going back to bed.” On his way, he mumbled under his breath, “That’s Deke Bishop. He knows my name. Deke Bishop knows my name.”
“Cute kid,” Deke chuckled.
“Yeah. He’s the best. And so freaking smart.”
“You should bring him to one of the games.”
“I’m sure he wants to go to one, but he’s sensitive to a lot of noise. He gets overstimulated very fast, so being surrounded by loud crowds and buzzers wouldn’t work.”
“I can get you box seats,” he offered.
“Aw, Deke. You don’t have to do that. Plus, knowing Abe, if he ever did build up the courage to go, he’d want to be front and center.”
“Hmm. Well, maybe I can figure something out.”
“We watched some of your game earlier.”
“Yeah?” He quirked a brow. “Like what you saw?”
“You just love going for threes, don’t you?”
“Where do you think most of my points come from?” he asked, grinning. Then he yawned right after.
“Get some sleep, Bishop.”
“But I wanna sleep with you,” he returned.
“Maybe this weekend?”
“Yeah. This weekend for sure.”
And sure enough, he was in Charlotte for the weekend, and for the first time I let him visit my house. It was weird having this giant man in my home. There were still pictures of Lew on the walls, and it wasn’t as impressive as his condo.
I’d held off on inviting him to my place for a while, but the hotels were getting stale, and our relationship was past that now.
“So, this is Davina the Divine’s real domain.”
“I swear you have a name for everything!” I said as he walked to the living room.
“What?” He smiled over his shoulder. “I can’t help it.”
He walked toward one of the shelves, studying the images in their frames. I stood by the island counter, watching as he picked one of them up. It was a picture of me and Lew at Niagara Falls. I loved that picture, because it was captured randomly by a photographer on the boat. Lew was looking at me like I was the only girl in this world, his face soft, eyes low. I was cheesing hard, not even realizing he was looking at me.
“He loved you. I can tell,” Deke said, glancing at me. I walked toward him as he set the picture on the shelf again.
“If this is weird for you or anything, we can go somewhere else,” I said.
“It’s not weird to me, D. I’ve always wanted to see your place. Is it weird to you?”
I hesitated. “A little . . . but I’ll get used to it.”
“I don’t think you should hide him,” Deke said. “He was a part of your life for years. No one can take that away. Not even me.”
I pressed my lips as he took my hands. “I’m glad you understand. I mean, one day I will put most of the pictures somewhere else, along with the boxes full of his clothes and hats and stuff. Just not right now. I don’t think I’m ready.”
Deke smiled down at me. “Take all the time you need.”
SIXTY-THREE
DEKE
When Davina invited me to her place, I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready for it yet. I was hit with a wave of discouragement knowing it was once a house she shared with another man.
I could never compete with her husband, and frankly, I never wanted to. But sometimes I wondered if she looked at those pictures and longed for the traits in him that she couldn’t find in me.
It was tricky thinking of the comparisons, but I had to remind myself just as Camille reminded me over and over again: love is different with every individual.
While Davina finished tossing a salad, I set up the table for her. When the food was ready and she’d prepared the plates, she set one in front of me, and it was piping-hot homemade lasagna.
“Oh shit. Let me find out my girl can cook!”
“I’m okay at it,” she said, sitting in the chair next to mine. “Octavia is the one who can throw down. I make a mean batch of pancakes, though.”
“I’ll have to try some of those soon, see what they’re all about.”
She smiled at me, and we dug in. It was really good, by the way. She had to stop discrediting herself.
“So, I don’t want to push too hard, but I am curious, Deke.”
I glanced at her as she cut into her lasagna. I already knew what topic she was about to bring up.