Chapter Thirty Seven No Tears #3
Saint lets out a real laugh, bright and unrestrained, his perfect teeth on full display. “When I heard Cairo was fighting over her, I shut that shit down. Ain’t no way my boy’s gonna be fighting over one chick when there’s pussy all over campus.”
Cairo shrugs, smirking. “We realized we had more in common than not. We’re all only children—well, I’ve got a stepsister—but it clicked. We’ve all been close ever since.”
“Saint taught us what we really needed to know, in school and out,” King adds, dapping Saint across the table. “Even after we graduated, he’s been like a big brother to us.”
I tilt my head, smirking as the waiter set down water glasses. “Smart and sexy—I like that.” I let my tone drip with teasing. “How old are you guys? You’re talking graduating from college, while Arina and I graduated from high school only two years ago.”
Saint’s eyes settle on mine, unwavering. “I’m twenty-five. King and Cairo are twenty-three.”
Cairo rolls his eyes at him, sipping his water. “And we only graduated because he stayed on our asses.” His hand finds my thigh under the table, his thumb tracing slow circles.
Arina laughs. “So you’re not smart then?” she teases, eyebrow raised. King tightens his arm around her shoulder, leaning close until his lips brushes her temple. “Oh, I’ll show you how smart I am—and everything I learned about what a body can handle.”
Arina grins, shaking her head. I can’t help the laughter that spills out of me either—their chemistry is wild, and even Saint cracks the faintest grin.
I side-eye Cairo’s hand inching higher. He doesn’t stop, not for a second.
And the truth is, I need him exactly like this—because I can already feel that question coming back to us, and I have a terrible habit of oversharing when I get nervous.
Even though I’ve already seen them naked, it doesn’t help that their faces alone send butterflies—and every other damn insect—storming through my body.
The last thing I want is to scare them away—or have them look at me like I’m unstable—if I mention my mom.
But for some reason, even with all the hate I hold for her, she always finds her way into any conversation about where I come from.
Sometimes I worry that makes me sound like a victim.
Other times, it feels like the only way to show people exactly how much damage she caused.
Saint’s gaze cuts to where Cairo’s hand rests on my thigh, the grin slipping from his face. His eyes narrow just enough that you’d miss it if you weren’t watching him like I am.
“How long y’all been friends?” he asks, his gaze dragging from my thighs up to meet mine.
I hesitate, forcing a small smile as I turn toward Arina. “Since third grade. And we just got our own spot, thanks to her mom’s new rich man.” I lift my glass toward her in a little toast.
“Amen to that,” Arina responds, her grin bright, clinking her glass against mine.
I set mine back down, the moment shifting, softer now. “Even though we grew up different, we have the same kind of hurt. Our trauma glued us together before we even realized how much else we had in common.”
My gaze drops to the smooth tan wood, candlelight gliding across it.
That old ache nudges my ribs. Great. Way to trauma-dump, Jainey.
But it’s the truth, and some part of me whispers that I don’t have to hide that from them.
I’m not ready to unpack my whole life yet, but I want them to have a sense of who I am—even if they end up deciding they don’t like what they see.
Saint watches me quietly, his voice dropping lower as he picks up on the shift in my mood. “It’s all good, pretty,” he says—more statement than question.
And for once, I don’t have a slick remark. I just nod.
Arina leans back in her seat, swirling her drink with a smirk. “Yeah, me and Jaine have been through it all—the good, the bad, and the messy. But we always find a way to make it out on the other side with a smile on our face and one hell of a story to tell.” She glances at me, her grin widening.
“We don’t just chase fine-ass men, despite what it may look like. We love to party, binge watch our favorite shows when we can, even hit the mall just to clear our heads sometimes. Half the time, we end up lost in our crazy fairytales, but somehow, that’s when we make the best memories.”
Saint chuckles quietly, his gaze flicking between us. “Sounds like y’all don’t hang out with too many people. I like that—and still manage to keep things interesting.”
“We do almost everything together,” Arina says, her voice proud. “We’ve been each other’s family for years now. The kind of bond that doesn’t break easy—as I’m sure you guys know.”
I smile, the warmth creeping through me before I can stop it. She doesn’t even realize it, but moments like this remind me exactly why I love her.
“That we do,” Saint replies.
Even when the thought of Tracey hovers like a weight in my chest, Arina always finds a way to steer the moment back to what matters. That’s her magic. She doesn’t cover the scars—she just makes them hurt a little less.
“So what brought you guys out to this small-ass town? You obviously have way more to offer coming from that pristine college,” I say, hoping to direct their thoughts elsewhere.
“My dad owns properties all over town. And I help manage most of them, so I brought these along to help me,” Saint replies.
“What kind of properties?” I ask. “Like homes and apartments?”
“Mostly restaurants and businesses,” he says. “But yeah, a few homes as well.”
I can’t help wondering if his dad owns this place—and if that’s how they scored reservations this good. These sexy-ass brothers just keep getting hotter by the minute.
“That sounds like a lot of work,” I say, doing my best to ignore Cairo’s fingers dragging along my thigh—slow, deliberate, and distracting as hell.
“Yeah, it is,” Saint says dryly, shooting King and Cairo a look. “Especially when your two immature assistants don’t do what they’re supposed to.”
“Hey, we do what you ask,” Cairo fires back. “Might not be exactly when you say it, but the shit gets done. Right, King?”
King doesn’t answer—his face buried in Arina’s neck. Saint clears his throat. “If you want to fuck her, just get it over with already.”
King finally pulls back, leaving Arina flushed. “I can wait,” he says, smirking. “But yeah—like he said, shit gets done.”
“So, Jainey…” Saint murmurs, his tongue dragging over my name like he’s already tasted it. “What’re you after, pretty? Because last night…” He lets the pause hang, his smirk blooming. “Last night was fun as hell. And to be real with you… I’m not against more. Hell, I miss you already.”
His eyes drift down to Cairo’s thumb lifting my dress toward the inside of my thighs. Saint’s grin widens, caramel eyes going molten. “Looks like he’s already seeing just how much you missed us.”
My breath snags. All I can focus on is the gravity of Saint’s voice and Cairo’s fingers climbing my thigh, testing exactly how far he can take this.
I let my eyes drop to the candlelight flickering on the table, the flame dancing like it knows something I don’t.
“I’ll be real with y’all,” I say, glancing first at Cairo, then letting my eyes drag over Saint before resting there.
“I just got out of a relationship. So, I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.
I’m just… having fun you know? And last night—” My lips curving slowly. “was exactly everything.”
Cairo grins almost instantly. “That’s perfect, then. Fun’s my specialty, baby girl. No strings—just good vibes and great sex over here.” He raises his glass toward me, his smirk all confidence. “And trust me, I don’t disappoint.”
I laugh, shaking my head, heat creeping up my neck even as I try to play it cool. “Mmh, okay Cairo we’ll see about that.”
Saint doesn’t laugh. Leaning forward, elbows resting on the table, his attention fixed on me like he can see right through my me.
“Fun’s cute and all,” he says, voice low and rough.
“But don’t confuse fun with pretending you don’t deserve more pretty—even if that’s not what you’re looking for right now. ”
I blink hard, thrown off by how soft—yet dangerous—his tone suddenly is. “Oh, I know I deserve more,” I say, leaning in, letting my gaze match the weight of his. “I just don’t trust anyone enough to give it to me right now.”
His mouth twitches, the faintest ghost of a smile. “Mmm… maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet.”
Something in his tone sparks through me, my thighs pressing together beneath the table on pure instinct.
Cairo chuckles, that deep, careless sound sliding right under my skin.
He reaches out, his hand brushing over mine.
“Don’t listen to him, Jainey,” he says flashing that grin that could talk a nun into sinning.
“He’s always too deep. I’m telling you, you just need to relax like you said.
Ain’t nothing to figure out but eating good food, being around the right people, and having a good time doing it. ”
He taps the rim of my glass with one finger, his green eyes glinting with trouble. “And maybe a good drink or two… let us show you what a good time looks like.”
Saint’s hazel eyes never leave mine. “I hear you,” he says, his voice low—meant only for me and Cairo, who’s pressed so close he might as well be sharing my dress.
“And I respect it. But even though you’re just having fun…
I hope you don’t sell yourself short. I know we barely just met, but something tells me you have a hell of a lot more to offer. ”
The booth suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker—like I’ve opened a door I can’t close.
Cairo chuckles and leans in, his shoulder brushing mine. “See, that’s your problem—you think too damn much.” He throws the line toward Saint.
I smirk, glancing between them. “So what—you’re the trouble, and he’s the philosopher with a heart?”