Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
CHAUNCEY
Iwasn’t in any rush to get home. Yeah, I wanted to lie up under my wife before I had to take her to the landing strip in a few hours so she could catch that flight back to Dallas. But more than that, I needed tonight to mean something.
Because tonight could make us or break us. The thought sits heavy on my chest, and I can’t shake it.
Rhy could easily step on that jet, change her number, bury herself in work, and never come back to Teflon Hills again. And truthfully? Nobody would blame her if she did.
That shit got me fucked up mentally.
For the first time in my life, losing her doesn’t feel like some dramatic breakup we eventually survive.
This shit feels permanent, like one wrong move and I’ll spend the rest of my life watching another nigga live inside the future I was supposed to protect, while I hate myself for even imagining that outcome.
Grandma was hard on me tonight, too. Real hard.
But honestly, I needed that shit more than I wanted to admit.
I needed it badly.
Most people either villainize me completely or make excuses for me because of who I am. Grandma ain’t done either. She held me accountable like a man while still leaving room for redemption, and that hit different.
And hearing her say they had to piece Rhy back together after me? Yeah… that fucked me up quite.
I never wanted to become the source of pain in the life of the woman I love most. But intentions don’t erase damage, and I’m finally understanding that.
I glanced over at Rhy while driving. She was staring out the window, beautiful and exhausted at the same damn time.
I know she deserves better.
I wanted a softer love?—
A calmer love—I wanted to be a man without all this history attached to his name.
But selfishly, I don’t want another nigga giving her that life. I want it to be me.
I wanna be the man she can finally rest with instead of recovering from, because if I lose her, I lose more than love, and if I keep her, I have to become somebody better than I’ve been.
And maybe that’s the first real change in me… because old Chauncey only cared about keeping Rhy. This version of me? I care about deserving her, even when I don’t know if I’ve earned that yet.
This version of me?
I care about deserving her.
We finally made it home, and not a single word was spoken between us the whole ride back. Just silence and headlights cutting through the dark.
The quiet wasn’t hostile anymore. It was heavy, thoughtful.
It was heavy, thoughtful.
The type of silence that happens when two people realize love alone might not be enough to save them this time, and that realization could end everything between us.
My mind wouldn’t stop spinning the entire drive. Truthfully, I don’t know what tomorrow will bring once she leaves here, and I hate that I’m both ready for her to stay and afraid she won’t.
Rhy could wake up and decide she’s done trying. Done hoping. Done rebuilding. I wouldn’t even know how to stop her this time because I already used up most of my excuses. I’m left with nothing to protect what’s left and no clear answer for what I’d do next.
I killed the engine, stared through the windshield for a second, then got out. After that, I walked around and automatically opened her passenger door.
Rhy stepped out quietly and headed toward the front door without saying much.
Our home.
That thought hit me hard as I watched her walk inside, because this house stopped feeling complete when she left it the first time. Everything looked expensive. Everything felt empty.
I followed behind her, but instead of going upstairs with her, I turned toward my man cave.
I needed a minute to breathe.
Needed to think. Needed something strong enough to slow my thoughts down.
I grabbed the jar off the table and rolled something up quickly with shaky fingers. That alone told me how fucked up I was mentally right now. Usually, my hands are steady. Tonight? Not even close.
The lighter flicked. Smoke filled my lungs.
Still ain’t help.
Because no amount of weed can calm the fear of realizing the woman you love can live without you.
I finally called AT&T as I should’ve hours ago and changed my number.
Honestly?
That shit felt good.
Like shutting a loud ass door on an old version of myself.
No more random calls. No more unnecessary access. No more women feeling entitled to reach me whenever they get lonely, drunk, bitter, nostalgic, or attention-starved. I’m done with that chaos now.
I deleted every contact that wasn’t relevant. Every distraction. Every unnecessary number was tied to bad habits and temporary moments. Then I sent my new number to my momma and the crew before tossing my phone onto the couch.
Clean slate.
Or at least the closest thing a nigga like me is gonna get.
A few minutes later, the door to my man cave cracked open slowly. I looked up… and damn near forgot how to breathe.
Rhy stood there in a little two-piece lingerie set, soft as hell under the dim lights. Fresh out of the shower. Skin glowing. Hair slightly damp. Pretty and dangerous at the same damn time.
I took her in quietly for a second because Lord knows that woman knows exactly what she does to me.
“Why are you down here hiding?” she asked softly.
“I’m not.” I chuckled.
“Mihm.” She crossed her arms slightly. “I’m tired. I took a shower, and you still ain’t come to bed.” Her voice softened even more. “My flight leaves in a few hours.”
That reminder hit me in the chest again.
I slowly motioned my hand toward me.
“Come here.”
Rhy did exactly what I wanted without another word. She walked over and stood between my legs while I sat back in my chair, staring up at her.
I slid my hands along the back of her thighs and pulled her closer until her scent wrapped around me completely. Warm vanilla, lotion, soap, and her—just her.
God.
I buried my face against her stomach for a second, inhaling deeply like I needed the memory stored in my lungs.
Rhy climbed up onto my desk slowly and rested one of her legs across my shoulder, teasing me on purpose. Spoiled ass woman.
“You know…” I ran my hand slowly up her calf. “We don’t catch flights.”
Her lips twitched.
“You got access to a private jet. You can leave whenever you want.”
I dragged my mouth softly across her ankle while looking up at her, my voice lower now.
“So, stay a little longer.”
And the crazy part?
I wasn’t even talking about tonight anymore.
I looked up at her and smirked slowly.
“Oh yeah?”
Rhy slid her thong down her thighs teasingly before tossing it at me, and Lord… that woman knew exactly how to flip every serious moment between us into pure temptation.
I reached for her carefully, unfastening her bra while she watched me with those dangerous eyes that always made me forget my own name for a second. I kissed along her skin slowly, taking my time, letting my mouth travel over every inch I missed when she was gone.
The tension between us wasn’t just physical tonight. That’s what made it hit harder.
This felt emotional. Desperate, almost. Like we were trying to love each other loud enough to drown out the fear underneath everything else.
Rhy tangled her fingers in my hair and pulled me closer with zero patience.
“Less talking,” she murmured against my ear. “Eat.”
I laughed low against her skin because there she goes—bossy as hell.
But I did exactly what she wanted.
I lifted her onto the desk completely, spreading kisses along her thighs while she melted underneath my hands. The room was filled with soft breaths, tension, and all the unspoken feelings we’d been carrying around all night.
Yeah…it was definitely about to be a long night.
“You trying to get in trouble tonight, huh?” I muttered against her lips.
Rhy nodded slowly as she had already made up her mind hours ago. Then she dragged her tongue across my lips, teasing me before kissing me deep enough to make me forget every stressful thought I had tonight.
“Yeah,” she whispered breathlessly. “I am.”
After that, all the tension between us finally snapped.
Our bodies collided recklessly against each other like we were trying to make up for every missed night, every unanswered question, every mile Dallas put between us. The desk creaked underneath Rhy while my hands gripped her waist tighter, trying to pull her impossibly closer.
We could barely catch a rhythm before falling deeper into each other again.
And that’s the thing about Rhy and me… when we lock in physically, it always feels like a conversation only our bodies know how to have. Passion. Anger. Forgiveness. Possession. Love. All tangled together, messy as hell.
Rhy matched me stroke for stroke, refusing to let me dominate the moment completely. Her nails dragged across my shoulders while soft moans kept slipping past her lips every time I kissed along her neck and collarbone.
I bit down gently against her skin and took her breast into my mouth, and the sound that left her after that damn near sent me over the edge myself.
“Chauncey…” she breathed, gripping me harder.
I could feel her body tense beneath my hands. Legs trembling. Breathing is breaking apart. That familiar shiver ran through her right before she lost control.
And honestly?
Seeing Rhy unravel because of me still felt like the closest thing to worship I’d ever experienced.
I followed right behind her, gripping her tighter while both of us struggled to catch our breath. The room felt hot as hell, thick with sweat, tension, and everything we still hadn’t fully said out loud yet.
Rhy rested against my chest for a second, trying to steady herself while I kissed along her shoulder slowly. Neither one of us spoke immediately.
And honestly?
That silence after intimacy always tells the truth.
Because underneath all the passion and chemistry, my mind was still spiraling over the same thing:
I don’t wanna lose her again.
I held her a little tighter, realizing how dangerous fear can become when love is involved. Nights like this make people wanna hold on to each other forever. Make impulsive decisions. Search for guarantees where none really exist.
I picked Rhy up in my arms and carried her upstairs toward our room.
“You know I can walk,” she laughed softly.
“I ain’t seen your legs move.”
Rhy pushed against my chest playfully.
“You didn’t give me a chance to.”
“You were being too fucking hard-headed,” I smirked down at her. “Careful what you ask for.”
Her eyes narrowed immediately. “I told you to eat it. You took it upon yourself to take it there.”
“I did.”
And honestly?
I’d do it again.
I carried her into our bathroom, carefully sat her on the marble bench in the shower, and adjusted the water temperature exactly as she liked it. Warm enough to steam the mirrors but not too hot.
Little things like that matter when you really know somebody.
The shower filled with steam quickly while water cascaded down both our bodies. I washed her slowly, gently, like I was trying to handle something fragile after spending years being too rough with it emotionally.