Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“He’s here somewhere,” Iris says, craning her neck to look out over the crowd.
“Last I saw him,” Lotus says, “he was playing pool with Kenan and August. They’ll be over soon, I’m sure. Kenan can only be separated from this baby for like an hour at a time.”
We laugh, but an urgency to leave assails me. I can’t deny the attraction when I saw Naz today, but somehow I know, if I actually do see him again, I’ll get drawn into an impossible situation. One that could become a tug of war between my loyalty to Cliff and the attraction that’s still there between Naz and me.
“Where’s your restroom?” I ask, standing abruptly. “I gotta go.”
“Oh, sure.” Lotus gestures toward the house with one whole side comprised of wide windows open and overlooking the pool and backyard. “Down that hall off the foyer, first door on the right.”
“Thanks.” I split a smile between the three of them. “I’ll be right back.”
I probably won’t be. I do have to use the restroom, but I’ll find a way to slip out after that and call Catalina tomorrow using a headache as an excuse for my disappearance. Lotus mentioned possibly working together. We exchanged numbers, and hopefully something will come of it, but I need to get out of here. I pick my way around the pool with careful steps, feeling slightly lightheaded after a few drinks from the bar. I do my business and wash my hands, fully prepared to tiptoe my ass right outta here. Naz makes me do something none of the Groundhog dates ever have.
Feel.
I feel…confused, unsure. Exhilarated. Turned on.
All I’ve wanted the last few years was to feel, and now that I do, it’s with the wrong guy. A guy who has, through no fault of his own, hurt my brother so badly. Cliff is finally clean. Finally getting better. I can’t risk a connection with the very man he blames for his misfortune, even if that blame is completely misplaced.
I dry my hands and head back into the hall, determined to get out of here, only to run, for the second time today, into a wall of muscle and man. I glance up and up until my eyes collide with Naz’s. He stares down at me, his hands coming to my elbows, gripping there to steady me. That mere touch sends my heartbeat into an erratic pattern and quickens my breath. He runs his thumbs along the backs of my arms in a gentle caress.
“There you are,” he says, his eyes intent, his mouth unsmiling as if he knows exactly what I was about to do. That I was leaving to escape this very moment and this very man. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Chapter Five
Naz
Damn.
I didn’t get to see Takira blossom from the girl I met in high school into the gorgeous, confident woman standing in front of me. Thanks to social media and my nagging curiosity, I got to see some things from a distance. I kept loose tabs on Cliff. None of what happened was my fault, but he clearly laid blame at my feet. I sometimes looked for ways I might help, might be able to intervene with some opportunity that would get him back on track, but he snorted and shot up all his chances. You can’t save an addict from himself. Ultimately, he has to do that, but every time Cliff occurred to me, so did his sister.
“Naz,” Takira says, blinking up at me in surprise. “Hey.”
“I was looking for you earlier. Thought you might be hiding from me.”
“Hiding?” She twists her lips into a grimace. “Not unless chilling by the pool is considered hiding.”
“So you weren’t about to leave without saying goodbye?”
She glances down, her smile chagrined. “Well, maybe I was about to do that.”
Mascaraed lashes paint shadows on her cheeks. Her makeup is flawless—vibrant blue and green and purple eye shadow, fuchsia-colored lips, dark, dramatic brows winging over her bright eyes. A strapless body suit lovingly molds every breakneck curve and bold line. Her shoulders, a rich shade of mahogany, gleam under the warm overhead light in the hall. Her arms look strong, but soft and rounded. A small diamond “T” dangles from a gold chain linked around the slim column of her neck and rests in the shallow well at the base of her throat.
My assessment of her is leisurely and thorough. I’m taking my time and taking in every detail down to her backless high heels and the nude color painted on her toes. I’ve never been a foot man, but she could convert me to any part of her body with just a crook of her finger. She’s obviously a woman who invests in herself, who takes care of herself. As a man who makes a living taking care of my body, I appreciate this. Any man who wins a woman like Takira would be blessed.