Chapter Thirty Seven No Tears #4
Saint smiles, slow and sure. “Something like that. I guess you can call it balance.” His hand slides down from the back of the booth, warm fingertips grazing my arm before settling there.
Cairo scoffs. “So tell me, Jainey—where do you go when you really wanna have fun? Or y’all just hit parties for that? I’m guessing last night was the first time you’ve been anywhere like that.”
I raise a brow, trying to hide the heat creeping up my cheeks. He’s not wrong. It definitely was my first time at a party like that—and it absolutely showed.
“Well… honestly, I’ve never been invited to anything like that. And even if I had, I doubt it would’ve come anywhere close to what last night was.”
He leans closer, his voice dipping into a tease. “In that case, I’m glad you had fun. Saint’s cousin is always throwing parties. So as long as you’re with us, you’ve got an invite, baby girl.”
“Yeah, he’s always doing the most. But you don’t go to parties at that address without one of us,” Saint cuts in, his voice turning firm—those caramel delights pinning me in place.
My lips twitch. “Okay, Dad.”
“I’m serious,” he says, eyes locked on mine. “The people there won’t be gentle seeing a body like yours walking in there alone. And I won’t hesitate to put any of them six feet under.”
He doubles down, his voice dropping. “And daddy is better than dad. Just don’t call me that in public pretty, because I won’t be responsible for what I do next.”
The fact that he just said he’ll kill over me already has my stomach turning. So, I try to focus on that instead of the stupid sparkle warming my eyes. Murder really shouldn’t turn me on, but coming from his mouth? I’ll let him do whatever he thinks is necessary.
I glance across the table and catch Arina’s grin as she leans closer to King, her laugh soft and unbothered.
It warms something in me I didn’t realize had gone cold.
She’s always been like that—good at pulling me out of my head, good at reminding me there’s still joy to grab onto, even when life tries to snatch it away.
I smile back at her, lifting my glass slightly in her direction. For a moment, everything feels lighter—the candlelight, the laughter, the soft hum of conversations around us. The morning stretching ahead of us like it isn’t an ending at all, but maybe the start of something new.
When the food finally arrives, the smell of bacon, syrup, and fresh coffee cuts through the haze of conversation. Plates slide across the table, silverware clinking as we all dig in like we haven’t eaten in days.
I guess that’s what fucking all night and not eating until the last hour of breakfast will do to you.
Maybe it’s the hangover talking, or maybe it’s the comfort of sitting here after the chaos of last night—but the silence that follows is easy. Broken only by the occasional laugh when King cracks a joke about Cairo’s chewing between bites.
By the time we push our plates away, the table’s a mess of crumbs, empty glasses, and half-finished drinks. We slide out of the booth, straightening our clothes and gathering our bags before drifting outside into the sunlight.
Saint and Cairo each grab one of my hands. I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at my lips anyway—it’s cute, in a possessive kind of way.
The air outside feels cooler than inside, sunlight spilling across the valet line, the constant motion of the town mellow after the noise of breakfast. Conversation softens as we walk, none of us wanting to break whatever spell the morning brought.
Cairo peels away first, heading toward the car with that same slow, confident grin. “I’ll be seeing you around, baby girl.”
“Yes you will, sexy,” I shoot back.
Saint lingers beside me, his eyes tracing my face before his hands grip my cheeks in his palms and plants a soft kiss to my lips. So subtle but it still makes the insects inside my body start running rampage.
“See you later pretty—and remember what I told you.” He says, the chocolate brown rim around his caramel eyes glinting.
“Yes daddy, I remember.” I tease.
He turns to go, but not before his palm cracks against my ass. He walks backward, still watching me, shooting a wicked wink as his teeth tug at his bottom lip.
God. What have I gotten myself into?
Sliding into the car, the roar of the engine fills the silence as we pull away.
The sunlight spilling through the windshield, warm on my skin, but the quiet between us feels different—peaceful, like we both know something about our lives just shifted, but neither of us are ready to say it out loud yet.
Chapter Thirty Nine
Playing with Fire
T
hree weeks fly by, and none of us reaches out. Arina and I swore from day one we weren’t giving off girlfriend energy. No checking in, no staring at our phones like idiots, and no acting like it’s anything more than just sex and fun.
Keeping it low-key is the safest move, even if part of me hates admitting that. Because if I think too long about either of them—I might start wanting something that I shouldn’t.
And yet, with the time that’s passed, the silence has a weight of its own.
That’s why, when I caught wind of a huge party happening this weekend, I decided to invite them all.
Supposedly, it’s going to be massive, way out in a part of town that rarely hosts anything like it.
Word has it, it’s set on a ranch-style property—open space, horses, and free drinks.
I stand in front of the mirror, adjusting my outfit for what has to be the tenth time.
My chocolate-brown cowgirl boots hugging my calves perfectly, white embroidery twisting up the sides like tiny lasso patterns.
The jean booty shorts sit just right on my hips, paired with a white tank top knotted in the middle to show a teasing sliver of skin.
Luckily for me, the weather decided to play nice today—this time of year can never make up its mind.
I top the look with my matching cowgirl hat, sliding it down until it frames my freshly defined curls spilling over my shoulders.
My makeup hits that perfect balance—glam, but not too heavy.
Warm brown shadow, a sweep of bronzer, and nude gloss that makes my lips look plump enough to ruin everyone’s focus.
Arina walks in a minute later, and we both burst out laughing—we look like a damn set of cowgirl barbies.
Her outfit mirrors mine almost exactly; same boots, same hat, but her light-blue top is knotted at the waist and her shorts a shade lighter.
Her makeup softer and sun-kissed, just enough to make her pale skin glow like she’s stepped straight out of a music video.
My phone buzzes in my hand just as I finish adjusting my hat in the mirror. A string of texts from Cairo lights up the screen—playful as always—but the last one seals it; On my way.
I stare at the words longer than I mean to, feeling a familiar flutter in my stomach.
He hasn’t stopped texting me since I told him about the party.
I half expected Saint to be the one blowing up my phone, but I guess he’s been busy.
It’s been weeks since I’ve had sex with anyone.
Maybe that’s why the thought of seeing them both makes my pulse stutter.
Sliding the phone into my back pocket, I glance at Arina, who’s perfecting her lip gloss in the mirror.
“So… just so you know,” I start, lowering my voice like I’m about to confess a crime, “my plan is to end up with Cairo tonight. I haven’t been with anybody since them, and…
” I let the sentence fade, because she already knows the rest.
Her eyes flick up to meet mine in the mirror. “Good,” she says, still smacking her lips together, “but you better hope Saint doesn’t try to steal you first.” She pauses, tossing me a look over her shoulder. “But honestly, I was thinking the same about King.”
We both bursting into laughter, shaking our heads at ourselves.
I lean against the dresser, the grin still tugging at my mouth. “Oh God,” I sigh dramatically. “What are they doing to us?”
Arina smiles, snapping her purse shut and slinging it over her shoulder. “Exactly what they planned, girl. And you know the worst part?” She glances at me with a wink. “We’re letting them. Face it bitch we’re sprung.”
? ? ?
We step out of the house, the gravel crunching under our boots, and the sight of Saint’s truck waiting by the curb makes my heart skip.
Saint sits in the driver seat, one hand resting lazily on the steering wheel, his broad chest bare beneath a pair of denim overalls.
I know sliding into that passenger seat is about to test me in every way.
King hops out first, flashing a stupidly charming smile as he opens the back door for Arina. “Come on, darlin’,” he says, his fake drawl somehow smooth as hell. It sends a blush straight up her cheeks as she climbs in.
Cairo meets me halfway, his jeans sharp and crisp, boots shining like he’s been polishing them all day for this.
A silver belt buckle gleams under the streetlight, catching my eye just before his hand catches my waist. “Damn,” he murmurs, tugging me close, his fitted tank stretching tight across his chest as he dips down to kiss me.
His rough palms frame my face, before sliding down to grab both my ass cheeks, making me gasp into his mouth.
The kiss lingers long enough to make my weak in the knees.
When he finally pulls back, his fingers trace along the hem of my shorts, knuckles grazing bare skin as he smirks.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” I whisper against his lips.
He laughs quietly, then smacks my ass like he’s already accepted the challenge.
He opens the passenger door, stepping back to let me hop in.
The scent of Saint hits me before I even settle into the seat, that musky clean leather smell mixing with smoke.
My eyes dart to him, his jawline sharp, the straps of his overalls hanging low across his chest, leaving little to the imagination.