Honeymoon Vibes
T h e o c e a n w a s loud as hell outside the balcony doors, waves crashin’ like they was tryna tell me somethin’. The curtains was open, sunlight spillin’ into the room, warm air mixed wit’ salt. Two weeks ago, we made shit official and a nigga been floatin’ ever since.
“Today,” she said softly, her voice a little raspy, cheek restin’ on my chest, “I wanna go ziplining or maybe jetskis. Something fun.”
I chuckled, brushin’ my hand down her bare back. “Hell nah. You trippin’.”
“Don’t be scared,” she giggled.
I exhaled. “Never scared. I’m just thinkin’. Shit, we gotta make it back to Kassim. If somethin’ happen to us, he stuck wit’ Keema’s ass.”
“Shut up!”
“Just sayin’… that it was a good ass call hirin’ her to be the nanny, though.”
Nyomi hummed. “And I feel better leaving him with her while we’re out here on some honeymoon time.”
“Facts,” I said. “Keema stepped up heavy. That’s fam type loyalty right there.” My hand slid over her ass again, not even tryna be slick ‘bout it.
“So nasty,” she whispered.
“You married me,” I said.
“Lucky me.” She grinned.
???
“N Y Y O O M M I I I !” I don’t know how the hell I let her talk me into it, but I ended up in the fuckin’ sky anyway, screamin’ like a bitch. “Aye, yo! This shit ain’t fuckin’ normal!!!”
The harness dug into my thighs while my whole body flew across a jungle canopy like a damn rag doll, high up over some tropical ass trees wit’ birds squawkin’ and my heart beatin’ like I was runnin’ from twelve. I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes. All in the name of love. What the fuck?
By the time I touched down on the platform and the guides helped me unclip, I was bent over wit’ my hands on my knees, cussin’ under my breath, tryna to catch my breath and my dignity. Then, I heard Nyomi clappin’ and cheerin’ like I ain’t just almost die.
“My brave ass husband!” she laughed, runnin’ up to me. “You did it!”
I shook my head, wheezin’ a little as I grabbed her waist and pulled her into me. “Don’t ever ask me to do no shit like that again.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck, gigglin’ against my chest. “You said that before jet skiing.”
“Yeah, and I meant that shit, too.” I kissed her hard, right there in front of the crew and the other tourists waitin’ for their turn. I earned that kiss. “Aight, enough of the adventurous shit. Let’s go eat. A nigga starvin’.”
We ended up at an open-air spot on the beach—soft reggae playin’, ocean just feet away. Table set: carved wood, crisp linens, fresh flowers. Fruit platter first, then jerk chicken sliders, coconut rice, and plantains so fuckin’ good I damn near closed my eyes when I bit one of them muthafuckas.
Nyomi sat across from me in this white cover-up thing over her bathin’ suit, looking too good. Brown thighs showin’ and her sunglasses pushin’ her braids back. She sipped on her passionfruit mocktail, eyes dancin’. “I’m still not over you screaming on the zipline.”
“Man,” I groaned, leanin’ back in my chair, “you gon’ clown a nigga forever?”
“Just for today.” She grinned.
The server brought out two grilled lobster tails wit’ garlic butter, and her ass moaned on sight, makin’ my dick hard. The honeymoon vibes was crazy. Relaxed. No stress. Just us on the island in our zone.
“I’m thinking we should go to Turks next year,” she said, draggin’ her fork through her rice. “Maybe bring Kassim and do something light. Or just us again.”
“Shit, you gon’ be breastfeedin’ my baby girl ‘round this time next year,” I told her, already knowin’. “We could do a lil’ family trip for sure when the time’s right.”
She smiled. “You really want a baby girl, huh?”
“Hell yeah. Fuck you thought? If I know your body like I think I do, your ass already pregnant. Soon as we get back, we findin’ out.”
She looked toward the water, eyes thoughtful. “You think we’re ready for two babies? I mean, with the postpartum and all…”
Reaching over the table, I grabbed her hand. “Aye, look at me.” She did, and I got serious. “Ain’t nothin’ we can’t handle, you hear me? You know what’s up. I got y’all. However you need.”
Nyomi’s eyes watered, and she dabbed them wit’ a napkin. “Keon, I fucking swear… You better not leave us, or I’ll have to show you my side of crazy.”
I laughed, takin’ the blunt from behind my ear to speak up. “I ain’t trippin’. We forever good.” I took a slow pull, lettin’ the smoke fill my lungs while the sun beamed down on us.
She traced a finger along my knuckles. “You sound happy.”
“Happy as fuck, baby.” I took another hit, feelin’ the buzz set in. The breeze kicked up, and she moved to my side of the table, curlin’ into me. I kissed the top of her head, still smokin’ good, enjoyin’ the vibe.
I said it and I meant it. Nyomi was gon’ be the mother of my kids and my wife.
I knew that shit. How could she not love a nigga like me?
Yeah, I had my crazy ways, but for her and my kids, I could chill a lil’ bit.
But, in all honesty, I was always gon’ crash out over my wife.
She had it like that. She had me like that, and I was all the way in this shit ‘til my last breath.