Session 33

Chapter five

I rolled my eyes at the cocky man, letting him know his antics weren’t cute, before walking away. Naomi saved me from acting out of character in public and cursing him out. It’s not every day a man who looked like him flirted with me—it was flattering but teetering on the edge of disrespectful. I could feel him watching me as I strutted over to Naomi. She spread her arms. "Hey, Ms. Angel, glad you made it!” She pulled me into a hug, then let go and complimented me again. “And damn, girl, you are slaying in that dress! You're absolutely killing it! Right, baby?" she asked her man. But before he could answer, that voice from earlier chimed in.

"Yeah, she looks damn good, Naomi."

I spun around and rolled my eyes at him harder this time, but his smirk only grew.

"Well, nobody asked you, Cassius. Fall back. She's not for you," Naomi waved him off, pulling me behind her like I needed saving.

“Avoid this one,” she mock-whispered, then looped an arm around him, hugging him tight.

I found it fascinating—how she was quick to warn me off him yet so comfortable in his presence. The contradiction wasn’t lost on me. But I didn’t need her warning—I wasn't too naive to know when a man would be bad for me. And he would be, It was written all over him.

But damn, he was fine. While Naomi hugged him, I took the chance to really check him out. Dude was way out of my league.

He was tall, draped in smooth tan skin, with neatly cut hair and a thick beard that framed his chiseled face just right. He had a thick neck and broad shoulders. His ice-blue eyes, lighter than usual, and his smile showcased perfect ivory teeth against his flawless complexion. But it was the ink covering his arms that really caught my eye. Without all the tattoos, he could pass for a pretty boy. Dressed down in a red T-shirt stretched across his chest and black swim trunks hung off his hips, even his feet were well-groomed in Nike slides.

This man was a problem.

When I finally dragged my gaze back up to his face, our eyes locked. He wore a smug smile that quickly turned into a wicked grin. I looked away, my cheeks heating up. Cassius was fine, and he knew it.

We were both decked out in red and black, you'd think we planned it.

“Naomi, you gonna introduce me to your friend?” he asked, looking down at her with that grin still playing on his lips.

“If you insist,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “Angel, this is Cassius, but we all call him Cass. And that’s Jonas, my fiancé,” she added, nodding to the other guy. We all shook hands.

“Nice meeting you, Cassius. And thanks, Jonas, for inviting me over,” I said, feeling a bit more at ease.

"You ever played spades, Angel?" Jonas asked. He threw Cassius a pack of cards. I watched him pull the cards out, then flip them through his fingers like liquid silver while staring at me.

I couldn’t look away. with my eyes locked on him, I shook my head. "No, I don’t know how."

Cassius sat down in the patio chair. My middle ended up right in his face.

I felt a flush creep up my neck. If I wasn’t so dark, they’d know I was blushing. Then I remembered my dimples were probably giving me away.

Cassius's grin was a slow-burning fuse. My embarrassment reached its height when, in one smooth motion, he pulled me onto his lap. My breath caught as I realized what just happened.

"You can help me win. I’m going to teach you," he whispered, his breath brushing my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I don’t think I should sit on you. I’m too—"

"You’re perfectly fine," Cassius interrupted, his hands settling on my hips, anchoring me to him. "Now, let’s play."

My head was down for a whole minute, so I didn’t see the reactions from Jonas, Naomi, and another man had taken seats at the table.

His hands moved to cover mine, guiding them as he dealt the cards. "First, you need to understand the suits," he murmured, his fingers tracing mine. "Spades are always the trump cards, the most powerful."

He slid a card into my hand, his touch lingering. "Hearts, diamonds, clubs," he continued, each word a warm breath against my skin. "They’re important, but spades win."

Naomi watched us with an amused expression, occasionally offering tips but mostly letting Cassius take the lead. It took everything in me not to tremble in this man’s lap.

I learned nothing. His proximity made it hard to focus. Still, we won. After the game, I was still sitting in Cassius’s lap. He wouldn’t let me up. While he was distracted and collecting money from the other players, Naomi leaned into me, a smirk on her face. “Don’t fall in love, girl. I’m warning you.”

“I gotta use the restroom,” I yelled a little too loud as I jumped up. I didn’t wait for instructions. I’d find it.

As I hurried into the house, my heart was thundering in my chest. Somebody pointed me toward the bathroom, and as soon as the door clicked shut behind me, I leaned over the sink, gripping the edges like it might hold me together. The room was spinning—maybe from the drinks, maybe from Cassius. Probably both.

I splashed cold water on my face, desperate to cool my skin, to calm the heat pooling between my thighs. My reflection in the mirror looked just as flustered as I felt. "He is not for you, Angel. Don’t set yourself up," I whispered, staring at myself like I could talk some sense into the girl in the glass.

When I finally felt composed enough to return, I took a deep breath and stepped back into the warm night air. Naomi was waiting for me at the back door. “Let me introduce you to some more people.” She handed me a drink.

I learned so much about them—like how Naomi and Jonas had been together since their teens. She’d met him when he was a corner boy, still hustling, and she’d seen the potential in him before anyone else. Now he was mentoring at-risk youth, helping them find a way out of the same life he’d barely escaped. They were the kind of couple that made you believe in the whole “ride or die” thing—if you squinted hard enough.

Cassius didn’t divulge anything about himself. He was the type who cracked jokes. His arrogance was off the charts. He carried himself like he swore the air itself bent to accommodate him. That type of confidence was obnoxious in other men, but somehow it suited him. He was superficial and shallow—a hoe. Throughout the night, at least twenty women tried to get his attention, whispering in his ear or shooting me dirty looks. I brushed it off.

The party wound down around ten. I was tipsy. Naomi had been giving me drink after drink. But I still had manners.

“You all need help cleaning up?” I offered, noticing the paper plates and cups scattered around their yard.

“No, you just relax and finish your drink. We have people coming to clean up first thing in the morning. I’m gonna fix up the guest room for you—you’ve had too much to drink to drive,” Naomi said, turning to head inside.

“No, no, I’m good. Really, I’m not that drunk,” I protested, standing up too fast from one of the pool chairs. My head swam, and I nearly tumbled back down.

Both Naomi and Cassius laughed at me. Cassius helped me back into my chair—I didn’t know where Jonas had wandered off to.

“Okay, maybe I am a bit tipsy,” I admitted, giggling like a fool. “But I can still take an Uber home,” I added stubbornly, trying to salvage what little dignity I had left.

“No, I insist. Stay here, and Cassius will look after you, and he’ll be good. Won’t you, Cass?” Naomi said with a playful threat in her tone.

“Just go, Naomi,” he stressed.

I watched her retreat into the house.

Then it was just me and him. I tried to avoid his gaze. I failed horribly. When I did look, his eyes were already on me. “I told you, it’s not nice to stare,” he said, taking a pull of the blunt that had come from nowhere.

“I’m not staring at you—you’re the one staring at me!”

“If you weren’t staring at me, you wouldn’t know I was staring at you,” he countered.

“This is really childish, you know?” I giggled.

“I know you are, but what am I?” he rebutted.

We both burst out laughing.

He stopped suddenly, getting this real serious look on his face.

“What?” I asked.

“Can I kiss you?”

The question hung between us. I wanted to laugh it off, make a joke, anything to break the tension, but the way he was looking at me held me in place. His eyes were so serious, so focused, that I found myself trapped in his gaze again.

I shook my head. “No,” I breathed out real low.

“Why not?” he asked.

I took a breath, holding his gaze. “Your eyes,” I said slowly, trying to find the right words, “they’re sadder than mine. And I’m carrying a whole world of sad right now.”

He blinked. I could tell he was surprised by my answer. “Is that why?” he murmured, low.

“Yes,” I replied. “If we liked it and turned it into more, all we could do is add to each other’s sadness. I don’t want that for you. Not for you, not for me.”

He didn’t say anything right away, just stared at me, his jaw tightening like he was processing what I’d said and didn’t like it. I could see something flicker in his eyes—understanding, maybe, or resignation.

And then, just like that, the moment passed. He leaned back in his chair, taking another pull from the blunt, the tension between us easing. I let out a shaky breath, unsure if I’d just dodged a bullet or missed an opportunity.

He was too fine to like me anyways. The thought tickled me for some reason, and despite the heavy mood, a laugh escaped me.

“What are you two laughing at?” Naomi asked. I hadn’t heard her come back outside.

I laughed harder. I don’t know if it was the liquor, the absurdity of Cassius asking to kiss me, or the fact that, for the first time in forever, I didn’t feel alone that had me acting like a fool, but I laughed all the way to the room, with Naomi and Cassius guiding me.

Naomi was giving Cassius questioning looks, but all he did was shrug.

The room they left me in was big and nicely furnished, with a four-poster bed and a matching armoire and dresser. I was tired, but I got off the bed and walked into the adjoining bathroom for a shower. It had been a hot day, and I hated the feel of dried sweat on my body. I peeled off my dress and noticed towels on the sink. When I picked them up, underneath them was a long USF T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. Jumping in the shower, I quickly washed and dried off.

In bed, the pillow was cool against my cheek, and before I could think too much—about Cassius, about the fact that I was lying in a stranger’s guest room—I was out. Sleep took me the moment my head hit the pillow, pulling me into a deep, dreamless oblivion.