Chapter 14
The Devil might be busy, but so was I.
Chanel thought I planned this night because I loved parties.
But the truth was, I planned it because I needed to keep her close enough to watch…and far enough from the wrong people to survive.
She didn’t know the real reason I insisted we go.
She didn’t know the real reason I insisted we lie to our uppity ass mama.
But Mama and her moods had been getting worse, unpredictable like weather patterns that only I could feel coming.
And Chanel, my Baby Bear, floated through the house like the sun didn’t burn her.
So I made sure it didn’t.
I zipped up my cheetah print mini, the one Mama would’ve fainted over, layered the respectable denim skirt on top of it, and checked myself in the mirror.
Not to see if I looked pretty.
To see if I looked believable.
“Channy, hurry up and zip me!” I called.
She tiptoed into the room like she expected Mama to materialize out of thin air and snatch her soul.
“Relax,” I murmured. “You’re with me.”
Her little shoulders settled. They always did when I said that. Because of all Mama’s favoritism and passive-aggressive digs, I was the one who kept the house from crumbling.
I was the glue.
The shield.
The secret.
Camilla pulled up, blasting Trina and chewing on gum like it owed her money.
Chanel hesitated.
“You sure she gon’ cover?”
I smirked. “Camilla lies better than most pastors preach.”
And she did.
Because she knew why I needed tonight to go well.
Because she knew who I was sneaking out to see after I dropped my sister off at the party.
Once we got to the gas station to change out of our decoy clothes, Chanel dressed as if it were her first day on earth.
The halter top fought for its life. The jeans fought for hers. But she didn’t look grown—she looked like she was trying not to breathe too hard.
I fixed her lip gloss.
“Don’t lick it off,” I warned.
“I’m nervous,” she whispered.
“Good. Nervous girls survive. Let’s go.”
When it was my turn, I peeled off the church-lady decoy skirt, adjusted the cheetah-print mini, and checked my phone.
One new message.
Zay:
I miss your fine ass.
Heat pooled low in my stomach.
I cleared my throat, put on the face Chanel needed to see, and walked out like nothing inside me shifted at the sight of his name.
Crestwood parties always smelled like cheap liquor, sweat, weed, and ambition.
I walked in first, letting the bass wash over me, letting eyes follow me—because eyes on me meant no one watched my sister.
Chanel stayed close until she didn’t.
One second, she was beside me.
The next second, she was gone.
My pulse kicked.
I pushed through the crowd, scanning. The block was full of boys who thought smiles were invitations and girls who mistook attention for affection.
Chanel wasn’t built for this. As I looked around, Zayden’s fine ass grabbed my arm.
I loved it when he wore his bottom fronts. Zayden was just as fine as the first day I laid eyes on him.
He slapped my ass and whispered in my ear.
“Come ride ya man’s dick right quick.” I turned around, scanning the room for my sister,r knowing I should tell Zay’s worrisome ass no.
I had to find Baby Bear, but the puddle at my legs couldn’t deny I missed the curve of his dick and how his thick shaft assaulted my walls.
I’ve been swamped with finals, and with the campus being hot, we’ve been laying low. It’s been over a week since he gave me backshots while kissing my earlobe.
I smiled, “Just a quickie, Zay.”
He smiled and led me to his bedroom upstairs.
I pushed his fine ass into his room and locked the door. He had Jodeci playing in the background and candles lit.
“How’d you know I would agree to come up?”
“A Nigga was hoping his baby loved him enough to give him a few kisses.”
“I gotta hurry.”
“I know— I know. God forbid Channy meet a Crestwood Nigga.” He scoffed.
“You know I like to keep her out of this life.”
“I know, baby.” He kissed my neck.
I pulled his shirt above his head and noticed him wince a little. I looked at his chest and noticed my name inked across his chest. It was tender and still a bit red.
“Zay?” I looked up into his wanting eyes.
“A Nigga told you we’re a family. I don’t take that shit lightly, YaYa.”
Zayden pulled my chini mini skirt down and exposed my breasts from my halter.
“You said it was quickie, baby.” I wanna see you bounce on my dick.
He lay on his California king-size mattress, his beautifully sculpted body on display.
I crawled on top of him and began to kiss his neck. I trailed down over my name boldly displayed across his pectoral muscles and licked his abs. His dick sprang up fully erect and leaking with his desire for me.
“Turn around, YaYa. I wanna see that ass.”
I obliged, sitting on his ab,s facing his excited dick. I bent over a bit and wiggled my ass in his face. He sat up and began to lick my asshole. I began to cry out in pleasure. I loved the way Zayden cared for every part of my body. Nothing was taboo for us.
He bit my ass and spanked it as he continued to lick. I moaned and cried out in ecstasy as he plopped me onto his shaft while spanking my ass.
“YaYa ride this motherfucka.” I rode him reverse cowgirl while my titties bounced up and down. He massaged my boobs while I fucked him back.
Zayden squeezed my nipples while rubbing my areolas and fucking me back. He bucked and fucked me deeper as I held on to his calves and talked my shit.
“Whose is it, baby?” He chuckled and spanked my ass again.
“Don’t fucking play with me, YaYa, you know this shit is yours.”
Every time he grunted, moaned, or screamed my name, I remembered the love of my life was my best friend, and I felt powerful knowing a love like ours was hard to come by.
After we came down from our high, I snapped back to the task at hand.
Find Chanel.
The back room door down the hall was cracked open. I heard laughter. It was unmistakably hers. It was unlike anything I'd ever heard from my Baby Bear. It was light and soft. ButI also heard a man’s voice.
I stepped inside and froze.
Xavier King.
Of course.
Zayden and I worked overtime to keep them two from every meeting, and like a moth to a flame, they found one another anyway.
And the way Chanel looked at him? It was a problem waiting to happen.
I snapped.
“Channy, what the hell? You in here giggling with X?”
She sputtered. “It’s not—it’s just—we were playing a game—”
Xavier’s smile widened at me. “Relax, YaYa. She’s good.”
Upstairs, I’d been reckless with Zayden.
Downstairs, I was calculated with Chanel.
Two different parts of me, both real.
Chanel didn’t need to know that while she danced with Xavier, I’d been in a bedroom with his brother, pinned to the bed, tasting sweat and danger and wanting more than I should.
She didn’t need to know that I felt something when Zayden looked at me, something I didn’t have the tools to handle yet.
She didn’t need to know I had already crossed lines she couldn’t imagine.
On the bus ride home, her head dropped onto my shoulder. I stroked her hair and pretended my pulse wasn’t still thrumming with memory.
She whispered, “Do you think X he likes me?”
I kept my voice flat. “Xavier likes anything that breathes.”
She elbowed me. “YaYa—”
“I’m not joking,” I said quietly. “You’ve got a future. Don’t let him rewrite it.”
I didn’t tell her who I’d been sneaking off to see.
I didn’t tell her that wanting someone like that rewrote your insides.
Because I didn’t want her to become like me.
Camilla covered us like she promised.
Big shirts. Makeup wipes. Innocence on loan.
Chanel fell asleep fast.
I didn’t.
I waited.
Listened.
When her breathing deepened, I sat up, grabbed my phone, and texted Zayden:
Me:
I’m ready.
Zay:
Already knowing. Come on.
I stood, tiptoed past Camilla, past the front door, down the street, where his car waited under the streetlamp, engine humming low, bass thumping softly.
When I opened the passenger door, Zayden didn’t say anything.
He didn’t have to.
The way his eyes swept over me was slow, deliberate.
He reached across the console, hooked two fingers under my chin, tilted my face up to his, and kissed me passionately.
After we went round for round, I laid against his chest in the dark, and I realized something dangerous:
I would never leave Zayden willingly. But I also didn’t want Chanel anywhere near this life.
Both truths could not coexist without something breaking.
But that night, wrapped in his warmth, tasting his breath and hearing his heartbeat under my cheek, I made myself a promise:
Chanel will never know.
Chanel will always be safe.
And Zayden would always be mine quietly.
Even if it cost me everything.