Chapter 14 Naima
NAIMA
Itightened the belt of my robe, padded barefoot toward the sound of laughter and clinking mugs, and found them all seated around the long wooden table like always—Tasha, already mid-rant; Selena, cool and unbothered as ever; and Lennox, leaned back in his chair, the morning light painting him in gold.
“Morning, Moonchild,” Tasha sang, wiggling her fingers over her coffee. “You slept in.”
Selena smirked without looking up from her plate. “No such thing as sleeping in when you don’t get much sleep.”
I gave them both a dry look, ignoring the way Lennox’s mouth tugged to one side, trying not to smile.
“You know y’all are insufferable in the morning, right?”
Tasha grinned. “Just observant.”
I moved to the counter and grabbed a mug, pouring myself a cup tea. He didn’t speak, just slid the jar of honey toward me like he’d read my mind. I took it with a quiet thank you, avoiding his gaze but feeling the weight of it anyway—soft and steady, like hands I didn’t want to stop touching me.
Last night had been... everything.
After the creek, we’d snuck back into the lodge like teenagers, laughter hushed but urgent. I’d barely closed my bedroom door before he was on me again. We used every surface—desk, chair, mirror, floor. My bedframe had squeaked loud enough to threaten suspicion, but neither of us cared.
He fed me fruit from his fingers, kissed the juice from my lips, then dropped to his knees like worship. I’d lost count of how many times I had cum into his delicious mouth. All I knew was when I finally collapsed, slick and stretched and full, he curled around me like I was his only home.
Now he was next to me, like we hadn’t ruined each other twelve hours ago.
“It’s so quiet this morning…or is it just me?” I asked, sitting beside him, thighs brushing.
“Nico took them into town early,” Selena answered. “He had another appointment later.”
Nico drove a van and offered transportation services since there was no public transit. He would run guests into town for shopping.
“So it’s just us misfits this morning,” Selena added.
“Misfits,” Lennox repeated, reaching for another biscuit. “That what we are now?”
Tasha shrugged. “Speak for yourself. I’m perfect.”
“You’re loud,” Selena said.
“And proud of it,” Tasha shot back, then turned to me. “You’re glowing, by the way.”
“Must be the green tea and honey,” I replied, sipping slowly.
“Mmm. Or the company,” Selena said, not even trying to be subtle.
I shook my head but didn’t argue. What was the point?
This was our rhythm now. Mornings full of slick grins and easy talk, sunlight streaming across worn wood and bare skin.
Time had passed since Lennox first arrived.
He wasn’t a guest anymore. He’d become part of the fabric here.
A steady presence at meals. A voice during fire circles.
A pair of hands I’d grown used to feeling on me, in every way that mattered.
And yet…
Even with all that closeness—something remained just out of reach.
“You okay?” Lennox asked under his breath, close enough that only I could hear.
I nodded, eyes on my plate. “Yeah.”
But I wasn’t sure that was true.
Because while everyone else had relaxed into him, while the other instructors had begun including him in planning and the guests whispered about his sunrise meditations like they were sacred scripture… I still felt it.
That space between us.
He gave so much. Presence. Care. Time. But not history. Not the messy middle. Not the why. The question pulsed under my skin.
Why are you really here?
I didn’t ask. Instead, I buttered a vegan biscuit and tried not to stare at the curve of his fingers or the warm amber in his eyes when the light hit them just right. He caught me anyway.
“What?” he asked, amused.
I shrugged, chewing. “You just have a way.”
“With what?”
“With everything.” And then to lighten the moment, I added, “A way with me. With your mouth….everything.”
Tasha looked up, zeroing in on our conversation. “Wait, what kind of conversation is happening over there?”
“None of your business,” I said quickly.
Lennox grinned. “She’s teasing me.”
“I’m studying you,” I corrected.
That made Selena lift her brow. “We’ve all been doing that.”
He turned to her, chuckling. “Still haven’t figured me out?”
“Not even close,” she said. “But that’s half the fun.”
I smiled, but something about her words stayed with me.
Because fun was part of it. But I wasn’t doing this for fun.
Not entirely.
There was something about the way he listened. The way he held silence like it was a thing with weight. The way he made me feel like the version of myself I used to chase but could never quite catch.
And yet… he was still a question I didn’t know how to ask.
“Lennox,” Tasha said, pointing her fork. “Are you ever gonna cook for us or nah?”
“I already brew the tea and the coffee,” he replied.
Selena nodded. “He’s got us addicted.”
Tasha rolled her eyes. “Okay, but I want proof you can cook. A man that fine has to feed somebody.”
He looked at me then. Just me. And said, “I do.”
I choked slightly on my sip of tea, and the table erupted in whooping and laughter.
Selena fanned herself dramatically. “Whew! You didn’t have to say it like that, sir!”
Tasha leaned in. “And feed her he does. Look at her face!”
I covered my mouth, laughing, but didn’t deny it because they weren’t wrong.
But what they didn’t see—what even I was still trying to untangle—was that there was more to him than hands and heat and slow mornings.
There was a shadow behind his smile. A weight behind his silence. Something buried that hadn’t yet surfaced. And I didn’t know if I wanted to dig it up… or wait for him to offer it. I only knew I couldn’t stop wanting to know.