Chapter 12 #2
From one end of the plane to the other, I’d made love to Lyric. Slow. Addictive. Agonizingly good sex that I would have the pleasure of enjoying anytime and anywhere forever. That was enough to make my heart smile and my dick hard all over again.
We exited the plane, hand-in-hand, after getting dressed.
The bags that we’d collected on the trip were instructed to be placed inside of Lyric’s truck and brought to the house along with it.
When we settled in my Jeep, reality hit us both, causing long, exasperated sighs to exit through our noses and mouths.
Even through dread, I placed the car in gear and began the journey home.
Only a few seconds into our trip, I felt Lyric’s palm brush against mine as she collapsed her fingers onto mine.
I curved mine, fitting into the spaces between hers before raising the back of her hand to my lips and kissing it.
There was no music. The only rhythm heard was the one my heart made. That was enough for me. I was on too much of a high. Music would only dampen my mood.
When we finally arrived, it was Lyric who gained access to the house.
Her keys were accessible whereas mine was still in the luggage that I’d carried on the plane, which was arriving soon.
The key to my truck was left inside during our entire trip in case of an emergency.
Hadn’t it been, then it would’ve been Lyric’s truck that we’d taken to my place because I wasn’t digging through my bag to find mine.
For the first time in my life, when I walked through the door, the void that had secretly haunted me was filled.
I was home, but so was she. And though she hadn’t officially moved into her new dwelling, her presence still meant the world to me.
The face-splitting smile that I wore as I wrapped my arms around her made her scrunch her face and frown up at me.
“Why are you smiling so hard?” she asked, patting my chest.
“Because it’s happening,” I shared. “Before tonight, each time I walked into my house to silence I felt like something was missing. After the letter, I realized it was you. Now that you’re here and I’m not battling the silence, it feels fan-fucking-tastic.”
“Yeah?” She smiled, too.
“Yeah.”
“I’m happy that I’ve made your home a more comfortable place, then, Keanu.”
“Our home,” I corrected.
“Our,” she repeated after me.
As the days turned into weeks, the love I had for Lyric began to solidify. I looked forward to my nights with her. Though she required her space often, at least six of the seven nights a week, we were beside each other. I loved that shit.
Because with her, everything was so simple.
She didn’t require much of me other than me being myself.
Her body heat kept me out of the streets and underneath her every chance I got.
I turned in early almost every night just to make it back to her before she was too tired to interact with me for the night or dinner that she’d cooked got too cold.
Not only did she fill my stomach, but she filled my heart, too.
With Valentine’s Day slowly approaching, she even filled my home with red ribbons and hearts throughout it that I was adamantly against at first but grew to accept.
This was what it was like having Lyric in my world.
She spared no expense when it came to anything she was passionate about and love happened to be one of those things.
Love.
Family.
Finances.
That was her life. She was a numbers girl which was why I’d been changing the digits on her account daily so that she could begin the process to start her funding project.
So that her account activity wasn’t suspicious or flagged by the bank, she deposited small increments of nine thousand dollars that were subtracted from the three-hundred thousand dollar investment I’d made.
It would get her first fifty to sixty clients out of the door with twenty-five hundred to ten thousand dollars in low-interest loans to get their businesses off the ground.
“Busy as usual, huh?” I heard Deidra say just as I hit submit on the order I was placing.
Every Sunday, like clockwork, I promised myself I’d send Lyric a hundred red roses. It was only my second time, but the amount of pussy she dropped in a nigga’s lap after the first one had me ready to send her a hundred more every Wednesday.
Valentine’s Day was approaching, and she’d made it clear that she was expecting the unexpected from me.
I wasn’t opposed. It was whatever when it came to her and she knew that shit.
The hints she’d been dropping in the meantime, though, were helping me out a great deal.
I appreciated every picture she showed me, every video she made me watch, every website she made me scroll with her, and every item she named as possible gifts.
If it was left up to me, I’d toss a ring on her finger and put a baby in her belly for Valentine’s Day, but those would honestly be my gifts.
I had to make sure she was covered, too.
Besides, she still had a few weeks left to let her people know what was up with us.
A ring would only reveal what they still didn’t know.
“You know it,” I responded, never looking up from my phone.
The confirmation screen appeared and though I’d read it just a week prior, I read it again. I wanted to make sure that I’d sent it to the correct address and the delivery would get to Lyric in a timely manner.
Her home. Mine.
My home. Hers.
We bounced around from house to house, mainly staying at mine but occasionally hers.
Today, she was home for her weekly refresh.
Her days were as busy as mine, but soon she’d only be spending an hour or two on accounts and then working on building her dream business.
She’d already started implementing her exit strategy so that she could have the freedom to whatever the hell her heart desired.
Once I confirmed, I exited Safari and entered our text thread to pick up where we’d left off. Before I was able to respond to the last message she’d sent, Laike was calling my line.
“Laike, what’s up, homie?” I answered.
“Sunday dinner, nigga?” he blurted.
From the noise of his background, I could tell he was somewhere handling business.
“I did not say call and ask that nigga. I told you to call and tell that nigga!” Luca yelled from a distance.
“Tell that nigga he’s got three little ninjas. I’m not one of them. My pops dead.”
“Nigga, you coming or what?”
“He ain’t got another choice!” Luca interfered, again.
“And, if I don’t?” I geared my question toward Luca.
“I’m shooting out the tires to that slow ass Trackhawk every time I see it. The folks at the tire shop going to know you personally.”
“I never took well to threats,” I quickly reminded him.
“I’ve never made any,” Luca responded.
“I shoot back,” shrugging, I replied.
“I shoot first.”
“Liam. The nigga, Liam, made the request so be there. Luca’s crib at seven.”
“Why you niggas didn’t lead with that?” I fumed.
“‘Cause, that nigga ain’t yo daddy,” Liam howled. “Didn’t you just say your pops dead?”
“Fuck you! And that big head ass nigga beside you,” I told them as I ended the call.
Immediately, I dialed Lyric’s cell. She picked up on the first ring.
“Hey,” she crooned. Her silky voice caressed my heart. “Miss you much.”
“Same,” I admitted, watching my surroundings. “Same.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Sunday dinner,” I shared.
“What about it?” she asked.
“Your father wants me to come.”