Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
TAKIRA
“I’m on my way.” Naz’s deep voice on speaker sends a frisson of pleasure over me.
“Good,” I reply, looking in the mirror at my half-done makeup. “I’ll be ready.”
“I haven’t been to many premieres and I haven’t seen much of Canon’s work, to be honest.”
“Well, this is a documentary.” My hands dither between the Pat McGrath and Tarte eye shadow palettes. “So not quite as glamorous as the Dessi Blue premiere will be, but everything Canon makes garners attention.”
“I can’t wait to show you off on the red carpet,” he says, the same pride in his voice that’s always there when we go out.
“Um, about that…” I sit in front of the mirror, dreading this conversation. “I was thinking maybe we shouldn’t walk the red carpet tonight.”
The silence on the other end of the phone clogs up with his frustration before he agrees and we hang up.
He already knows why. In the two weeks since we’ve been back, we’ve seen each other every day, every night.
Sometimes he stays at my place. Sometimes I’ll stay over at his.
Sometimes…we say good night at the door and I ache for him, but it’s a sweet ache because I know I’ll see him again.
Sweet because I know he’s aching, too. It’s a relationship.
Not a one-night stand, a hook-up, a booty call, a fling, or a smash and grab.
It’s us, and it feels as fragile as a bubble blown and floating in the air—as strong as an oak tree that has withstood storms. It’s playing catch-up and it’s ahead of its time.
It’s everything I had become too jaded to believe in or hope for.
Only one spot has marred such a perfect start.
I still haven’t told Cliff. Or my parents, for that matter.
Of course, Janice knows, and keeps urging me to tell them.
She says rip the Band-Aid off. It’s a point of contention between Naz and me, so we don’t talk about it much.
He’s not going anywhere, and I don’t want him to.
But at some point, I’ll have to tell Cliff.
He’s just doing so well with his job, with his kids, with his life.
Better than he’s been in a long time. If I did anything to hurt that, I’d never forgive myself.
I’m not giving up Naz, though. My love for my brother and my…
feelings for Naz are on a collision course.
It's too soon to say love.
Right?
I don’t know that I’ve ever actually been in love before, but if it feels any deeper, any richer than this—if it moves you more—I may not be able to stand it.
I check the mirror propped against the wall in my bedroom.
Damn, I look good.
It’s not just the silk dress that clings to all my curves from breast to thigh and then ends with a flare of tulle above my knees.
Or the perilously high heels that tie up in straps around my calves.
With my braids gone, I’ve styled my natural hair into a frothy halo of textured waves and curls.
To garnish the sexy image, my diamond T charm glints against the lingering tan of my throat.
I’m putting the finishing touches on my lipstick when the phone rings again. I grab it and glance at the screen.
Mama.
My heart seizes a little every time I see her name onscreen.
I know it’s ridiculous, but I flash back to the night she called screaming and crying so much I couldn’t understand a word she said.
And once I did understand, the horror of what had happened to Cliff…
I’ll never forget that. I shake off the memory and answer.
“Hey, Mama.”
“Tee, hey, baby. How you?”
Some of the leftover tension drains from my shoulders as her accent breezes over me, stronger today, as it often is after she talks with any of our family still living in Trinidad.
“I’m good. How you?”
“Fine. You talk to Neecey?”
“We texted yesterday.” I sit on the edge of my bed and admire how the white polish on my toes looks with my tan. “Everything okay?”
“I just got off the phone with her not too long ago.” A brief pause breaks the flow of Mama’s words. “You heard about that retirement thing they’re doing for Coach Lipton?”
I draw in a deep breath and blow it out before answering. “I heard something about it, yeah.”
“They’ve asked Cliff to say a few words.”
“That’s good. He loves Coach and Coach loves him—has been there for him through everything.”
“True. I just worry. He’s been doing so good, and I don’t want no setbacks, ya know?”
“Of course. He’ll be fine, don’t you think?”
“Praying, but I thought it might be good if you and Janice maybe come home to visit? Support him?”
“Oh.” It’s all I can manage for a second.
“Janice isn’t sure she’ll be able to get away. She’s checking. If you’re busy, I understand, but I heard Nazareth is attending, too, and you know how that boy sets Cliff off.”
Hearing Naz’s name from her jars me, and for a moment, it’s like a glitch—something in the wrong place and time.
Images of Naz I’ve collected over the last month fill my mind.
Him leaning against the rail on the yacht, his smile wide and blinding.
Laughing, holding my hand as we explored the streets of Positano.
His stern features softened in the waning light of the villa’s garden surrounded by lemon and olive trees.
And all of our dates since we’ve been back in LA.
Not telling her about Naz feels like a betrayal to all he and I have shared.
“Mama,” I say, my voice coming out stronger than I thought it would. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Out wit’ it, Tee.”
“It’s about Naz.”
“Nazareth?” The silence on the other ends blooms and ripens. “What about him?”
“He and I…” I blow out a breath. “I ran into him here in LA.”
“And?” she asks, the knowing loud in her softly asked question.
“We’re seeing each other.”
“Ahhhh. How long this been going on?”
“About a month. The trip to Italy—it was with him.”
“Takira.” Her chuckle on the other end of the line surprises me. “You don’t ever make things easy, do you?”
I find myself laughing back, shaking my head. “I guess not. What do you think Cliff will say?”
“He won’t like it. You know this, but he’s a grown man, right?”
“Do you think seeing Naz at the ceremony or finding out about us will set him back?”
I want her to say no. I want her to tell me it’s silly to even think so, but she found him. She was more traumatized by it than any of us.
“I don’t know,” she finally admits. “That boy…lots wasted, but he’s got a lot of life still ahead of him. He’ll have to decide what he’s gonna do with it. You can’t live for him, though. None of us can, and I’ve been guilty of that more than once.”
“I…I care about Naz,” I tell her, my resolve strengthening. “And I’m not giving him up.”
“All right now,” Mama says, sounding pleased. “Even more reason for you to come for the ceremony. That’s something Cliff needs to hear from you. You need to be the one to tell him.”
Her suggestion is still ringing in my ears when Naz arrives at my door a few minutes later.
“Hey,” I greet him with a pleased smile.
“Hey.” He bends to kiss me briefly, but his demeanor is subdued when he enters the apartment. He looks handsome and austere in his impeccably tailored dark jacket and slacks.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask, my voice sounding more uncertain than I’m used to it being, and I hate that.
He glances up, his full lips tightening, and takes the few strides that bring him back to me at the front door. He leaves me no space, placing his arms on either side of me, pressing his forehead to mine.
“I’m not mad at you, Kira,” he says, a raw edge to his voice. “I’m in love with you.”
A startled breath chuffs past my lips. I can’t pretend the notion hasn’t crossed my mind, crossed my heart, but we haven’t said it.
I thought it was too soon, thought we should be more sure, but there is absolute certainty in the eyes that burn into mine, and that look finds an echo inside of me. An answer to his call.
“I love you,” he says again. “And I don’t want to hide that from the world by not walking a stupid red carpet that I usually don’t even care about but want to walk with you.”
“Naz—”
“And I for damn sure don’t want to hide it from your family.” He drops his nose to the juncture of my neck and shoulder. “But I will. If you aren’t ready to tell Cliff—if you’re scared it will set him back—that matters more to me than my desire to tell the world how I feel.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “Me, who has always guarded my private life wanting to tell the world anything is crazy, but this…” He places a large, warm hand over my heart. “This, I want the world to know.”
“We kind of scooted right past the part where you said you love me,” I whisper, looking up at him, emotion burning my throat and tears welling in my eyes. “That seems important.”
“More important than keeping it from Cliff? From your family and the rest of the world?”
I ease up on my toes and spread my hand over his neck, drawing him down until only a breath separates our lips.
“Considering I love you, too,” I say, not heeding the tears slipping over my cheeks, “it seems more important than everything.”
He takes my lips or I take his—I don’t know which, but we take each other, and there’s somehow no end or beginning to it.
This didn’t start twelve years ago on the rooftop of my house under a quarter moon.
It didn’t begin under the Mediterranean sun or idling on the sea.
It feels like it started when I was born, and everything in my life brought me to him and him to me—like all the times we were apart were held breaths, and here together, in each other’s arms, we can finally breathe.
He pulls away, one hand under my dress, gripping my thigh, the other palming my ass.
“Shit.” He lowers his head again, kisses me again like it’s a compulsion, an involuntary action he can’t or won’t even try to stop. “If we don’t go now, we won’t go, and I won’t care.”
“No.” I give him a gentle shove. “We’re going. We have a red carpet to walk.”
He does a double take, a smile spreading across his face. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ll call Cliff tomorrow. I don’t know how he’ll respond, but we’ll deal with it as best we can.
Besides.” I execute a slow turn, making sure he sees every curve from every angle.
“I’m always making sure everyone else is ready for their big moments.
” I smile, grabbing his fingers with one hand and the doorknob with the other.
“It’s my turn now, and I’m ready for my close-up. ”