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)
“I love you,” he says again. “And I don’t want to hide that from the world by not walking a stupid red carpet that I usually don’t even care about but want to walk with you.”
“Naz—”
“And I for damn sure don’t want to hide it from your family.” He drops his nose to the juncture of my neck and shoulder. “But I will. If you aren’t ready to tell Cliff—if you’re scared it will set him back—that matters more to me than my desire to tell the world how I feel.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “Me, who has always guarded my private life wanting to tell the world anything is crazy, but this…” He places a large, warm hand over my heart. “This, I want the world to know.”
“We kind of scooted right past the part where you said you love me,” I whisper, looking up at him, emotion burning my throat and tears welling in my eyes. “That seems important.”
“More important than keeping it from Cliff? From your family and the rest of the world?”
I ease up on my toes and spread my hand over his neck, drawing him down until only a breath separates our lips.
“Considering I love you, too,” I say, not heeding the tears slipping over my cheeks, “it seems more important than everything.”
He takes my lips or I take his—I don’t know which, but we take each other, and there’s somehow no end or beginning to it. This didn’t start twelve years ago on the rooftop of my house under a quarter moon. It didn’t begin under the Mediterranean sun or idling on the sea. It feels like it started when I was born, and everything in my life brought me to him and him to me—like all the times we were apart were held breaths, and here together, in each other’s arms, we can finally breathe.
He pulls away, one hand under my dress, gripping my thigh, the other palming my ass.
“Shit.” He lowers his head again, kisses me again like it’s a compulsion, an involuntary action he can’t or won’t even try to stop. “If we don’t go now, we won’t go, and I won’t care.”
“No.” I give him a gentle shove. “We’re going. We have a red carpet to walk.”
He does a double take, a smile spreading across his face. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ll call Cliff tomorrow. I don’t know how he’ll respond, but we’ll deal with it as best we can. Besides.” I execute a slow turn, making sure he sees every curve from every angle. “I’m always making sure everyone else is ready for their big moments.” I smile, grabbing his fingers with one hand and the doorknob with the other. “It’s my turn now, and I’m ready for my close-up.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Takira
“What’s up, Tee?” my brother asks, sounding like half his attention is on our conversation and half elsewhere.
“You got a sec?”
“Anything for my little sis,” he says, still sounding absentminded.
“What did I interrupt?” I find myself smiling in spite of his distractedness.
“I was drawing up some plays.”
“It’s summer. The season won’t start ’til the fall. You’ve got some time.”
“True, but I can’t stop thinking about what we might do next year. We got a great group of guys.” He sighs. “Anyway, lemme stop. My baby sister is on the line. Big-time stylist to the stars.”
There’s no mockery in his voice, only pride, and the tightness in my chest eases. He’s been through a lot; he’s put us through a lot, but when it comes down to it, he’s still my big brother who I loved more than just about anything growing up, even when he was a jerk. In spite of it all, he’s still my Trini twin.
“I don’t want to hold you.” I clear my throat. “So I’ll get right to it. I’m seeing someone.”
“Ahhh,” he says, teasing, knowing. “Boy or girl?”
I release a shallow, nervous laugh. “Boy.”
“Well, tell me about him. He must be special. You never bother telling me about the jerks you meet on Tinder and shit.”
“You, uh, you know him, actually.”
“For real? Know him like a celebrity out there in Hollywood, or know him—”
“Personally. You knew him back in the day.” Impatience with my own stalling rushes the words out of me. “It’s Nazareth, uh…Naz Armstrong.”
My words reverberate in the silence that follows them.
“What the fuck, Tee?” he explodes. “You shitting me?”
I flinch. Even braced for his disapproval, I’m still shaken by his anger. “No, I ran into him in LA and—”
“And out of all the guys you could’ve fucked, it had to be him? The one who took my place? Ruined everything for me? Is that it? Wanted you a baller?” He expels a harsh breath. “My own sister. Chasing clout and giving up ass for—”
“Fuck you, Cliff,” I say, my voice low and lethal in a way I reserve for him when he’s showing his ass. “I love you, and it’s been hard to watch what’s happened to you since that game, but you made those choices. It wasn’t Naz’s fault. None of it. You hit that coach. You started using. Accept responsibility for it.”