Chapter 12 Saints and Sinners #2
Sure, I could hear the judgment woven between Cadence’s syllables. I knew that tone—sweet but heavy, the same one she used when she told teens in her program that God forgives but don’t do it again.
Still, it came from a place of love.
I knew if Scott ever tried some shit, Cadence would be the first one to show up at court with me, Bible in one hand and a character witness statement in the other.
And Ro?
Lord.
Ro wasn’t going to judge me. She’d hype me up until I was convinced I was the patron saint of side dick.
I slid into my usual spot, killed the engine, and sat for a second with their voices still echoing in my ears. “Messy or not, it felt good to tell y’all. You two are the only ones I can talk to about this.”
“Of course.” Cadence’s voice softened. “We love you, Tey. You know that.”
“Damn right,” Ro added. “You could call me from the backseat of a cop car, screaming about how you robbed a bank with your titties out, and I’d still say, ‘That’s my girl, I’ll be there with bail money!’”
I laughed again, but the sound cracked in the middle. Because behind the humor was a real truth: they loved me. And that love gave me a safe place to land, even if I was diving headfirst into fire.
Cadence cleared her throat. “So. . .do you want any more advice or do you want us to just listen and hype you up?”
“Both,” I admitted.
Ro jumped in first. “Okay. Here’s my advice: ride him.
Ride him like the mortgage is due, girl.
You been starving for this kind of attention for too long.
Your husband gave you nothing but gray hair and stress lines.
Dominic is handing you orgasms and roses before breakfast. This is reparations for being married to a narcissist.”
Cadence groaned again. “Ignore Ro. She’s crazy.”
“I’m prophetic,” Ro corrected.
Cadence pushed on. “Here’s my advice: don’t let lust make your decisions. Think about your babies. Think about custody. Scott is a dirty dog, and if he finds out about this, he’ll use it against you.”
Her words chilled me. Because they were the same ones that had already been gnawing at my bones all morning. The same words that made my hands shake on the wheel when I thought about Scott’s face twisted in outrage from him finding out that someone else could love me better than him.
But then Ro spoke up again, softer this time. “And also think about this: those babies are already watching. They’re watching how Dom treats you. How he cooks for them. How he makes mornings light instead of heavy. That matters too. Don’t discount it.”
I went quiet.
My throat worked around the lump that rose up.
Because they were right—both of them. I was walking a razor’s edge between danger and desire. One slip, and I could bleed out everything I loved. But one step in the right direction, and maybe, just maybe, I could walk into something that healed me instead of hurt me.
“Y’all make the decision sound so easy,” I whispered.
Ro snorted. “Easy? Baby, no. But simple? Yes. Scott’s a demon. Dom is a fine-ass angel with dick for days. Pick wisely.”
Cadence clicked her tongue. “Do not listen to her. You need to think of this long-term. What does Dominic mean to you, really? Is he a fling? A rebound? Or is he. . .someone you could love?”
The word love slid through me like melted sugar, dangerous and sweet.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I don’t know yet. But when I’m around him. . .God, it feels like I can breathe for the first time in years. Like somebody truly sees me and it feels so good.”
Silence again.
Then Cadence sighed. “Then maybe. . .don’t run from it. But be careful.”
“Finally, we agree on something.” Ro clapped again. “Amen.”
I laughed through the ache in my chest. “Y’all are fools.”
“Fools who love you,” Cadence said.
Ro’s voice rose. “Before you hang up, reminder: Blow Job class is Wednesday at seven. Don’t be late.”
I groaned. “Ro—”
“And no need to bring dildos this time,” she pressed on. “We’ve got them all. Silicone ones. Very lifelike. It’s part of the tuition.”
Cadence gasped. “Why would you announce that like it’s a PTA meeting? Dildos, Ro!”
“Because y’all need the information.” Ro snapped her fingers. “It’s about technique, not toys. No shame. Just education.”
I covered my face with one hand, laughing into my palm. “Girl, I don’t know if I can show up and wrap my lips around silicone in front of strangers.”
“You can. And you will.” Ro’s tone was final. “Think of it as self-care. Moisturizer for your soul. Plus, you need to work on those skills to keep Dominic in line and have him screaming, ‘Oh, Mommy! Suck my cock, Mommy!’”
Cadence groaned so loud my car speakers buzzed. “Jesus, take the wheel.”
“He already did,” Ro chuckled, “He drove it straight to Dominic’s towel-clad ass.”
“Anyway.” Cadence made a strangled noise. “Can we talk about something less. . .sticky before hanging up?”
I chuckled. “Like what?”
“Like Pool Boy.” Cadence lowered her voice the way she always did when she was guilty of reading something spicy. “Anybody started it yet?”
Ro gasped. “Girl, yes! I’m on chapter two and I’m already wet. The man hasn’t even taken his pants off yet and I’m like—whew, Lord.”
Cadence squealed. “Ro! Stop!”
“Don’t spoil anything,” I said quickly, leaning back against my seat. “Because I’m picking it up from the store today on my lunch break. I’ll dive in soon.”
Ro laughed. “Dive in is the right phrase. Girl, by chapter two you’re gonna need a towel and to take out your vibrator. I surely did.”
Cadence let out another shriek, half laughter, half scandalized groan. “I cannot listen to this filth before work. I need holy water in my ears.”
“You need holy lube in your drawer,” Ro corrected.
“Oh my God!” Cadence cried. “Okay, I’m hanging up. I have actual teens waiting for me at the library who expect me to talk about leadership skills, not lubrication!”
Ro and I cackled while Cadence fumbled with her goodbye.
“Love you, Tey. Be safe,” she rushed out. “And Ro, for the love of God, behave!”
The line clicked, and it was just me and Ro.
“You still there?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said softly.
“You know we’re clowns, right? But also—we love you. Don’t forget that.” Her voice warmed. “And don’t forget Wednesday. Blow jobs. Dildos. All in your mouth. And champagne.”
I laughed again, shaking my head. “Goodbye, Ro.”
She hung up, leaving silence in the car.
I sat for a second, the engine ticking as it cooled, my hands resting on the wheel. The echoes of their voices lingered—Cadence’s warnings sharp as scripture, Ro’s encouragement warm as sin. Both of them tugging me in opposite directions, both of them right in their own way.
But even as I grabbed my bags and smoothed down my skirt, my mind wasn’t on Pool Boy.
It wasn’t on the Blow Job class.
It wasn’t on court prep, or this crazy week ahead, or even Scott.
It was on Dominic.
On the way his shoulders flexed over the stove this morning. On the smell of butter and roses braided in the air. On his voice, low and promising, saying later.
Later.
My thighs pressed together at the thought.
Fuck. . .