Session 33

Chapter Ten

The heavy bass hit me the second I stepped into the club, the was air thick with sweat, alcohol, and perfume. I rubbed my nose, trying to shake off the overpowering scent.

“I can fuck you all the time…” Lil Wayne rapped.

Jonas was the first person I spotted. Lounging on a black leather sofa in a roped off area, drink in hand, his smile was wide and easy—like a man who had everything he wanted in life. He saw me and stood up, dapping me up.

“Cassius, what’s good, my man?” Jonas asked, leaning back into the sofa like a king reclaiming his throne.

“Appreciate the invite,” I said, settling into the seat beside him. “Good to see you, bro.”

“You've been missing in action, But, you already know you were getting an invite,” he raised his glass before taking a sip.

My gaze shifted to Naomi, who draped herself over his lap as soon as he sat back down.

She glanced at me over the rim of her drink, her expression equally filled with annoyance and amusement.

“Naomi,” I said, giving her a nod.

She smirked. “Cassius.” Her eyes rolled to a space across the club, I followed her line of sight and mine landed on Angel. I could feel the nerve in my jaw start to tick.

My phone was burning in my pocket, reminding me of the texts she hadn’t answered. I’d expected her to be home, maybe wrapped in a blanket, waiting for my call. But instead, here she was.

Angel was in the fucking club instead of answering her phone.

We’d been talking nightly for about two weeks since the beach, sharing more secrets in the dark. And now, here she was, bathed in neon and shadow, dancing with someone else. The fuck?

She was trying to piss me off. That was the only explanation as I watched her, though she was oblivious to my presence. Some random guy had his hand on her rounded hip, the other was splayed possessively across her belly. He guided her hips, their bodies grinding together, her dimples were deep as hell. She was lost in the music, in the moment. Her body moving like she was made of honey and heat. Men from every corner of the club watched her, drawn to her. She was so voluptuous, and the short, checkered skirt she had on barely covered her ass was forcing everybody to look.

I didn’t like it. Any of it. Jealousy coiled inside me, burning. I hated how at ease she was with him.

“Don’t do it. Don’t act a fool and embarrass that girl,” Naomi hissed next to me. The music in the VIP section was just low enough so you didn’t have to scream.

"Jonas, get your girl," I replied to him instead of her as I pushed up off the sofa, heading straight in Angel's direction. Naomi groaned behind me, but I didn’t care. I was seeing red.

When Angel’s eyes finally landed on me, the smile on her face faltered for a split second, guilt flashing in her expression. But she didn’t stop.

She just shook her head at me like she thought I’d let it go because she shook her fucking head. I felt like she was daring me to do something about how I felt.

Challenge accepted.

Reaching her, I didn’t say a word. I grabbed her arm and pulled her off the dance floor, ignoring the way the guy behind her stumbled back, confused. I pulled her towards the exit.

“What the hell, Cassius?” she protested, trying to break free, but my grip was firm.

“We need to talk,” I growled, dragging her into the cool night air. I finally let go of her arm once we were outside.

She rubbed it, glaring at me. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem? You’re out there dancing with some random motherfucker,” I spat, anger simmering just below the surface.

“So what? I can dance with whoever I want, and I don’t need you acting like my man in front of people. We’re just friends, Cassius. That’s all we’ll ever be,” she shot back, crossing her arms defensively, pressing her lips together.

Friends, huh?” I stepped closer, closing the small space between us until there was barely an inch separating us. My voice dropped, low and sharp, every syllable cutting through the tension like a blade. “Is that why you let him touch you like that instead of letting me? Because I’m just your fucking friend? The friend you fall asleep with on the phone every night?”

Her lips parted, but no words came out at first. She looked caught, like a deer in headlights, the slightest quiver in her voice betraying her bravado. “Yes, friends,” she said finally, her chin tilting up. “And that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

That shit hurt my feelings. Why in the fuck was she fighting what was happening between us? That was supposed to be my role.

My frustration boiled over. Without thinking, I gripped her chin, and forced my tongue into her mouth.

She froze for a second, her body rigid against mine. Then, just as quickly, she softened, melting into me like she couldn’t help herself. Her arms moved up, clutching at my shoulders as I gripped the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Her lips tasted like strawberries and liquor, warm and sweet and completely intoxicating. I groaned against her mouth, deepening the kiss.

And just as fast as I had started it, I pulled away.

She whimpered, reaching for me instinctively, her fingers brushing the front of my shirt. Her eyes were glassy, her lips swollen and parted. I could probably fuck her right there, right outside of the club. But we were just friends.

I took a step back, needing space before I lost myself completely. “If that’s the way you want it,” I said, my voice low, “then fine. We’re just friends.”

The words tasted bitter as they left my mouth. She stared at me, her confusion painted across her face, but I didn’t give her a chance to speak. I turned and left her standing there.

My chest felt like it might explode as I jumped into my car, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. Every nerve in my body screamed for me to go back to her, to finish what I’d started, to make her admit what we both already knew—but my pride wouldn’t let me. Not tonight. Fuck that. I drove to Kiesha house.

She answered the door as soon as I knocked. Like she’s been waiting for me. “Cassius, what are you doing here?” she asked, stepping back to let me in.

I sank onto the couch, spreading my legs wide and leaning my head back, closing my eyes. The tension in my chest eased just a little.

Keisha was kind of rough around the edges, but her house was always clean and smelled good. Her place had a neo-soul vibe, with browns and greens everywhere, plants all over the place, even though she gave off Sexy Redd vibes.

"You want something to eat, something to drink?" she offered. I opened my eyes and took her in. She was wearing a crop top and short shorts that hugged her thick thighs, her hair wrapped up. Even without makeup, she was pretty—I had to admit that. She didn’t have to fuck with the likes of me. She could have done better.

She watched me watching her. When I didn’t answer, she moved to straddle my lap, her hands sliding to my belt. I caught her wrists before she could unbuckle it, stopping her movements.

I just want to sleep next to you," I said, exhaustion lacing my words.

I heard her breath hitch. She studied me for a moment, her expression softening in a way that made me feel exposed. Without a word, she slid off me, grabbed my hand, and led me to the bedroom.. I stripped down to my boxers and collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Keisha lay beside me. I needed her warmth tonight. I knew she’d read too much into me staying all night, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t go home to an empty house and let thoughts of Angel consume me.