Liana
Noe: Bitch let’s the fuck go.
I bit back a laugh at her message as I rolled onto my side carefully.
My eyes landed on Jaheim stretched across the bed beside me.
I sighed. The room was still dark except for the television glow, bouncing softly off the walls.
Sometime during the night, one of us had turned the volume down low enough that it became background noise.
The air still smelled like him. Us.
Me: Meet you in ten. What room are you in?
Noe: 515
Me: We’re on the same floor. Ten minutes bitch.
I sat there for another second longer than I should have, staring at him. His face looked softer asleep. Less cocky. Less aware. One arm stretched toward me.
Dangerous.
I slipped from beneath the sheets slowly, pausing when the mattress shifted beneath my weight. Jaheim moved slightly, his brows pulling together before relaxing again.
“Jesus,” I whispered under my breath.
I spotted my dress near the foot of the bed and grabbed it quickly before collecting my heels from beside the chair. My panties were somewhere near the bathroom door, which felt both ridiculous and slightly embarrassing considering how this night began.
Or ended.
Whichever.
I moved quietly through the suite, using the flashlight from my phone to find the rest of my things. In the silence, every little noise sounded twice as loud. My bangles shifting. My zipper. The soft drag of my feet against the carpet.
The entire time, I could feel this weird pull in my chest telling me to get back in bed. And that right there was exactly why I needed to leave.
Neither of us needed this misconstrued.
I had just slipped my feet into the slippers when the mattress creaked behind me.
I froze instantly and cursed myself in my head.
“Nah,” his voice rasped low from behind me. “Don’t freeze up now, Pink Panther.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
“You were really gon slip out on me?”
“Noe is ready. I didn’t want to miss my ride.”
“Damn. You could’ve at least let me fake like you liked me a little.”
“Stop. I’ll admit I like you, but I can’t. I’m not ready.”
“Word.” He nodded, scratching his beard, eyes roaming my body. “Take the robe and shit. I’ll pay for it.”
“Thank you for a wonderful night.” I shuffled my dress in my arms to kiss his cheek. Softly, and regretfully, I pulled back when he pulled back slightly. He pulled my robe closed and kissed the side of my mouth.
“I’ll see you at The Bloom,” I whispered.
“Yes ma’am,” he said, and instead of feeling nothing, I momentarily lost my mind and thought yet again about staying. He was still naked under those covers, and I had spent the night learning what that meant. My body had opinions about leaving it behind. I shook my head and headed for the door.
Noeva was two doors down, already bent over in her robe, twerking in the hallway at eight in the morning.
I did the same.
We laughed all the way to the elevator trying not to make a scene because it was six in the morning and these were real walls. The doors closed and we cracked up.
We were a well-fucked mess, both of us, hair a disaster, clothes bundled in our arms, me in The Vue’s complimentary slippers like I had checked in for the week. Our before and after pictures would tell the whole story. We’d had a time last night.
“Okay,” Noeva said, wiping her eyes. “Talk.”
“What a night that I know you manufactured. Sneaky hoe.”
“You look like you don’t have any complaints. Weird way to say thanks.”
“So you and Beau. When and how long?”
She leaned her head back against the elevator wall and smiled at the ceiling. “Beau has been on my bumper for a while. I...” She shrugged. “I’m scared too, bitch. Damn.”
“Aww, friend.”
“I know.” The doors opened to the lobby, and we walked out into the morning light still in our robes and slippers like we owned the place.
“Even Wren likes him. But he’s too close.
Wren loves his camp. I can’t ruin the thing that makes her happy or feel normal because I caught feeling over her camp director. ”
Being a single mother couldn’t be easy, but raising a special needs child came with its own kind of weight. Noeva never complained about it, never used Wren as an excuse, never let anybody treat her daughter like a burden. Wren was a blessing. Noeva meant that with everything in her.
But motherhood had changed her life fast and completely.
Pieces of her had been pushed to the side to make room for it all.
The spontaneity. The softness. The ability to want something without first calculating what it would cost her daughter.
Those parts of herself didn’t just come back automatically.
“He’s been on your bumper for how long?” I asked.
“Since last summer, but it’s been subtle flirting here and there.”
“Do you like him?” I asked as she shifted.
“Have you seen that man? Of course I do. But I’m a realist first. Reality is, I’m a single mom with limited time. My child will always come first. Men say they understand that until they need some pussy and I’m unavailable. Now he's with the next bitch. He is a celebrity.”
She pressed her lips together and shrugged.
“You deserve to be happy too. I know trying to balance both probably feels impossible, but you and Wren deserve that. Beau is a good person, so that bull crap you engineered in your head is not giving realist.”
“I know, girl,” she sighed. “He’s the best and so, sweet, humble. He shocked me when we uhm we kinda had a moment one day.”
“Not you been holding out. What moment?”
“Trayvon’s mama was late picking him up again, and we both stayed with him. We talked and laughed. He’s not what the media says about him. We ended up ordering some pizza and letting the kids play. I…”
“Hmmp.”
“What?”
“You talked all that shit, and look at you scared, too. And of what exactly?”
She turned to face me. “Same thing you are. Reading shit wrong. I gotta protect Wren.”
The Camaro was where she left it. We got in and rode the first few minutes in silence, both basking but also unsure of what last night meant or if it meant anything.
“So,” she said finally. “How grown is he?”
I put my feet on the dashboard and smiled at the highway.
“Very fuckin grown friend. I needed that.”
“Period,” she said, turning the music up as we head back to Bloomington.
The next day… Sunday, May 10, 2026
I pulled into the long driveway of my parents’ home and tried hard to knock the stupid grin off my face.
Lawrence and Crimson Bloom could tell when something was different with me, and I didn’t care to explain or confess to anything.
The best move was to put on my damn poker face and keep it all through dinner.
I checked my face in the visor mirror. I was still grinning.
“Shit.”
The other night was not supposed to happen but it had.
I had been pacing the floor since I got home trying to make sense of it.
Sleeping with Jaheim was one thing. Sleeping in his arms was another and I knew my mixed signals were going to cause trouble for me later.
But I liked him. What I knew of him anyway, and what I knew was already more than I had planned on knowing.
My phone buzzed.
Noe: Img.
The photo was from the club before everything else; both of us pressed together, laughing at something like life hadn’t been wearing our asses out lately. I smiled and backed out of the messages.
I pressed my lips together, took a breath, and got out of the car.
I’d showered and changed, but that didn’t mean I had removed him from my body, my skin, or my head. He was still there. I had the passion marks to prove it. We’d gone at it a few times, each time better than the last. Shit, I was grinning again. I was going to blow my cover. I knew it.
“Hey Mama,” I said as she met me at the door.
“Hey baby.” She pulled me in for a hug before leaning back to get a better look at me. “Now, Roya has already put a bug in my ear about you. I want details later. Just us girls.”
I grinned because just us girls lasted until I left and she had tea time with my father, her bestie as she called him. Those two didn’t keep a single thing from each other. I loved and hated it in equal measure.
“Roya is a known liar, Ma. Why would you believe anything she says?”
“Hm, watch your mouth, little girl.” She tilted her head. “That deflection tells me it’s true. Is he cute?” she whispered. “Bloomington is filling up with eligible bachelors left and right.”
“It smells so good in here,” I said, walking past her into the house.
She snickered behind me.
“Babygirl, you made it. I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I’m only ten minutes late. There was a wreck in front of the Pattersons.”
I walked into my daddy’s arms and sighed. I loved him wholeheartedly. He had never once let me down. He cleaned up my messes, held my hand on a dark highway after bailing me out, and never asked for anything in return.
Every time I came home, I understood a little more why I trusted him with every broken version of me.
“Ready to eat?” he asked into my hair.
“Yes sir. What you cook?”
“Come on and see.”
He had outdone himself per usual. Smoked ribs, greens, mac and cheese, cornbread, and sweet potatoes. I was going to leave with most of it, and he knew that and cooked accordingly because that was Lawrence Bloom. He loved to cook, loved hospitality, and loved feeding people as an act of care.
“He always makes so much food. The grocery bill is gonna bankrupt us.”
“Now, Crim. I work hard to slave over a hot stove, and this is the thanks I get,” my father said, kissing her forehead. She instantly softened, and I couldn’t help but enjoy seeing it.
My mama was different, quiet like me, content in her own company, an only child who had never needed a crowd to feel full. They had been balancing each other for forty years, and it worked.
We sat and fixed our plates. My dad blessed the food, and we dug in.
“You ready for Bloom day?” he asked, passing me the ribs.