Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
TAKIRA
I’m debating between two dresses for dinner—which, according to what Lotus told me on the flight here, will be a pretty snazzy affair this first night—when my cell phone rings in my purse. I grab it and continue my perusal of the closet.
“Neevah! Hey, honey. How’s Iceland?”
“So gorgeous. We have to come back together.”
“Well, this time it’s just you and Canon, which is exactly how it should be now that the movie has wrapped. Girl, everyone, and I do mean everyone, is so excited for Dessi Blue.”
“I know! We get asked about it everywhere we go. Now that we’ve locked screen, Canon can finally relax some.”
“And I hope he’s making you relax, too.” I try to keep my voice worry-free, though Neevah’s health scares during shooting probably shaved a couple of years off my life.
“My man is taking good care of me,” she assures.
“He better. Let him know he’ll have me to deal with if you come home wore out.”
“You just worry about getting wore out on that boat for the next two weeks. You there yet?”
Of course, I told Neevah about Naz’s invitation and our past and the sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a pair of shears.
Over the phone, I waffled on whether or not to accept Lotus’s invitation and go on the cruise.
My best friend was pro-go, but that’s probably because Neevah’s so happy with her man, she wants me to find someone, too.
“I’m here, yeah,” I answer, still studying my two wardrobe options—a slinky pantsuit and a slinky dress. Either way, it’ll be slinky. “Getting ready for dinner.”
“How is it?” Neevah asks, barely disguised excitement in her voice.
“The yacht is huge, and everything is top tier.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Boat nice. Got it, but what about him? How is he?”
“Dangerous.” I flop down onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling. “He kisses like a god and finger-fucks me like I’m his whore.”
“Love that for you. I think the way to your heart will ultimately run straight through that pussy.” Neevah cackles. “But why is that dangerous?”
“I told you how my brother is about him. Cliff just got better. I can’t do that to him. Or at least, he can’t find out what I’m doing. I’m giving in to this for two weeks, and then it’s over. It’s a fling.”
“What if Naz doesn’t want it to stop at the end of two weeks? What if you don’t? Do you just sacrifice your happiness because of your brother’s misplaced bitterness?”
“No.” I close my eyes and release a troubled sigh. “I’ll figure it out. I just want… I need this, Neeve.”
In the silence between us, all the disappointments I’ve experienced over the years convene.
“You know the hell dating has been for me.” I toy with a braid that slipped from my top knot. “Tinder disasters, blind dates, unsatisfying hook-ups, wannabe sugar daddies.”
“Whew, chile. If one more old man tries to pay your rent.”
“One day I’mma take it. Just lemme get tired of paying my own way. RIP to my feminism,” I chuckle.
“Remember that last one offered you his ‘vintage classic,’ as he called it?”
“But why was it a Cutlass Supreme?” I pull my knees up to my chest and roll to my side, shaking with laughter.
There’s nobody I’d rather laugh with than Neevah. We’ve been together a long time. Roommates in New York when we were both scraping and scratching to make it. We’ve supported each other through every tiny break and vowed that when the big one came, we’d bring the other up, too.
And that’s exactly what Neevah did when she was cast in Dessi Blue. It changed both our lives. There’s no one I trust more.
“Neeve, I’ve never wanted anyone like this,” I whisper, the confession slipping out before I can stop it. “I hadn’t been on the ship an hour and this man was knuckle-deep in me.” I sit up straight for emphasis, even though she cannot see me. “Inside me, Neeve, and he could’ve gotten it. Day one.”
“I mean, half the Tinder first dates we know end in sex. How would that be any different?”
“Because he’s different, and I have a feeling it won’t be just sex.” My shoulders slump with the truth, under the weight of that statement. “That with him, it could never be.”
“I know that feeling well,” Neevah says on a contented sigh. “You don’t ignore that, even if it feels fast or impossible. If it’s real, you find a way, but you’ll never know if you don’t try.”
“But Cliff—”
“Is a grown-ass man,” Neevah snaps with uncharacteristic sharpness. “You know I feel for all he’s gone through. Who flew with you to Houston when he OD’d?”
“You did.”
“And I would again in a heartbeat. You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You’re closer to me than my own sister.”
“Girl, that Terry is a low bar,” I chuff out an exasperated breath because I wanted to throw hands more than once with that sister of hers.
“No lies detected there, but she’s getting better and working on herself.
My point is, your happiness means as much to me as my own, and I’ll fight anybody standing in the way of you being happy.
Even your own brother, especially when his disapproval of Naz is so twisted. That boy needs therapy, not enabling.”
“You’re right.” I nod. “Janice and I have both been trying to get him to talk to someone. He’s an addict. He has a sponsor, but that’s not enough. There’s a lot he needs to work through.”
“And I don’t want you leaving something special on the table because Cliff hasn’t worked through his shit yet. Don’t hold back these two weeks. See if this could be anything and deal with Cliff later. Your very own fairy tale.”
“A modern one. Boy meets girl. Girl gets flown out. Girl gets spoiled and bent over.”
“Oh, we are here for Black girls getting spoiled and bent over.”
“And do!” I let my laughter rise and fall before going on softly. “Thank you, Neeve. I love you, girl.”
“Neevah.” I hear Canon’s deep rumbling voice through the phone. “Baby, we’re late.”
“And we know how obsessive your man is about time,” I say dryly. “Tell him I said hey.”
“Takira says hey,” she purrs, a smile in her voice I only hear when Canon is around.
“Hey, Takira,” he calls. “You’re making us late.”
“You know how he gets.” Neevah laughs. “I better go.”
“Girl, bye.”
“Keep me posted,” she says before we hang up.
I perch on the edge of the bed for a moment, absorbing the almost undetectable motion of gentle waves lapping at the sides of the yacht. I steep in the cool opulence of this cabin. My stomach growls at the promise of the world-class menu the chef detailed when we first boarded.
Girl gets flown out. Girl gets spoilt. Girl gets bent over.
“In that order,” I murmur, crossing to the closet to rub the silky material of the dress between my fingers. Naz really laid the gauntlet down.
Don’t take off these panties. You don’t get to come.
He thinks he can keep me riled up all night?
I strip out of the dress I traveled in and carefully slip the panties off, setting them to the side to study myself in the mirror propped up against the wall.
I work out on the regular, so I’m fit, but not skinny by any means.
I don’t want to lose my thickness. My body is a conduit for pleasure, so I love it.
One breast slightly bigger than the other.
Fine lines at my hips. Little jiggle to my jam and a touch of dimples on my thighs.
I’ll take it all exactly as it is, and I take care of it.
I glance at the juncture of my thighs, freshly waxed and ready.
“You think you got me caught up, Naz?” I wrinkle my nose at my mischievous expression in the mirror. “I got a few tricks for you.”