THIRTY-ONE
My body hums whenever I think about Kross feasting on me through the night and before leaving my place. It feels so incredible with him. I want more.
Collecting myself, I finish confirming the fabrics with our acquirer and leave the meeting room. My smile falters as I run into Iree in the hallway. My desire to be with Kross will undoubtedly cost our friendship and break her heart. “Hey, Iree.”
“Hey,” she returns dryly. “There’s a delivery for you.” Annoyance laces her tone like she knows who it’s from.
I frown. “Iree, listen—”
“Whatever, Davia,” she hisses and continues on her way. Damn. I don’t want to cause her pain, but I can’t fight my feelings anymore.
Entering my office, I smile at the takeout bag on my desk with the accompanying French note on the front.
Je pense à toi, ma belle.
Warmth floods my body as I translate the words. “ Thinking of you, beautiful .” Kross is so sweet.
Guilt shifts my mood as Jamir enters my office with red roses. “Hey, baby. Missed you all weekend.” He places the roses next to the lunch from Kross and wraps his arms around me. “I wanted to take you to lunch, but you’ve already ordered.”
“Yeah.” I discreetly remove the note before he inquires about it. “Um, how was your uncle’s sixtieth?”
“Boring,” he drones. “Everyone sends their love.”
“Hm.”
He lifts his hand to caress my cheek. His touch makes me feel dirty, considering the weekend I had. “Let’s have dinner tonight.”
“I made plans with Trish to meet her after work.”
“I’ll wait at your apartment then.”
It is time to talk about our relationship and my feelings for Kross. Jamir deserves to know the truth. For God’s sake, I had Kross eating me out. “Okay.”
He smiles. “I love you. Always.”
My heart won’t allow me to say it back. I lower my head and pick at my pants.
“You can’t tell me you love me?” he rasps. “Geez, I guess you’re still mad I canceled on Friday and haven’t been spending time with you. You can hold a grudge, huh? I’ll see you later.” He leans in for a quick kiss on my cheek and walks out of the office.
I breathe an air of relief and sit in the chair. Every piece of me wants Kross badly. The more I analyze things, the fewer reasons I find to remain in my relationship.
“Well?” Trishell inquires after sitting and ordering her usual red wine. “Who will it be?”
I drink before telling her, “I love being with Kross. I love it when we touch. I love seeing him, talking to him, just being around him.”
“Hmm.” She slowly turns her head from side to side. “What is it about Kross?”
I speak from my heart. “He lights a fire inside me. It’s like I’m alive again.”
“Oh my god.” She leans back. “You fell for him.”
“It’s so fast. Maybe it isn’t—”
“You’re droopy-eyed over the man,” she insists. “You fell for him.”
Sighing, I brush aside my loose curls. “Jamir will be so angry when he finds out. It’ll crush him. We’re supposed to talk tonight, but I don’t know if I can tell him everything.”
“Is there any part of you that wants to stay?”
I consider it for a beat. “Jamir doesn’t make me feel that fire.”
“Leave him.” She drinks her wine. “He’s a good guy. But it’s over.”
“I hate that I’ll break his heart and hurt Iree.”
“Jamir’s a big boy, Davia, and Iree will understand. It’s worse to continue in a dead relationship when you want another.” She has a point. “What did you tell Kross?”
“That I want him, and I’ll tell Jamir the truth.”
She bobs. “Okay. Don’t leave him waiting. It’ll mess with his feelings, too.”
“I know.”
She drinks more. “How’s your mom and the baby?”
“We haven’t talked since she revealed the pregnancy. I meant to call her, but…”
“You’re unsure how to feel about it,” she finishes, knowing me well.
“I’ll stop by her place on my way home.”
She squints at me. “Look at you trying to avoid talking to Jamir.”
“I need some courage, Trish. Don’t judge me.”
“Okay. Good luck, sis.”
I text my mom to let her know I’m on my way over. She doesn’t respond, and my call goes straight to voicemail. It’s only after eight, so I doubt she’s asleep.
Reaching the Cherry Hill condos, I park in the visitors’ lot, enter the building, and take the elevator to the fifth floor. I approach her door, knock, and wait. When she doesn’t answer, I knock again.
“What!” Mom yells, yanking the door open with her hair disheveled and the strap of her slip dress off one shoulder. “Davia.” She quickly fixes herself, brushes over her hair, and glances behind her.
“Um, hey.” I take in her appearance with a scowl. “I tried calling, but you didn’t answer.”
She blocks me from seeing into the condo and clears her throat. “I have company.”
“Is it the father of your baby?” I ask.
“Keep your voice down,” she shushes. “I haven’t told him.”
“Who is he? Can I meet him?”
She hisses. “Not right now. Why did you stop by?”
“I wanted to check on you.” And avoid Jamir a bit longer . “Shanae found out you’re pregnant and told everyone at dinner yesterday.”
“That little bitch,” she spits, features twisting. “How did Mama and Dad take it?”
I lift my shoulder in a slight shrug. “Not bad. They want to see you and make sure you’re okay.”
“Hm. Well, thanks for coming, but it’s a bad time. I’ll call you. We’ll have dinner next week or something.”
“Fine.” I splay my hands. “Sorry to interrupt.”
She waves and shuts the door in my face. I hear the lock, followed by old-school R&B music and a faint yet gritty male voice I’m sure I’ve heard before but can’t place it.
Minding my business, I call Jamir on the way to the elevator.
“Hey, baby.”
The love in his voice saddens me. “At my place?”
“On my way, but I have to make a quick stop first.”
“Take your time.” We both need it .