Only for the Week (Forever Falling #1)

Chapter One

Janelle

Months Later

“A nd you’re sure you have everything you need? Passport? Phone charger? Deodorant?”

I roll my eyes, thankful my mom can’t see me through the phone, as I shove another book into my suitcase.

Without fail, my mom always calls me to run through a checklist whenever I go on a trip.

I could remind her that at my big age of thirty I’m capable of packing my own bag, but what would be the point?

I’m going to get the list regardless, it can either be with attitude or not.

I choose not.

“Yeah, Ma, I got everything. Double and triple checked.”

“Okay, what time you headed to the airport?”

“Evie should be here in about twenty minutes.”

“Good, good. And you’re sure you’re okay to go on this trip, sweetie? I swear, I don’t know what your sister was thinking, tacking on an extra week when this is already uncomfortable for you.”

There it is. The reason why I can’t wait for this wedding to be over is not the fact that the bride is my sister and the groom is my ex-boyfriend. It’s the fact that everyone keeps bringing it up with pitying glances like I’m some sad sack hung up on the guy.

Fun fact: I was over Arnold Hightower before we even broke up.

We just weren’t a match. It took a year of us being together for me to finally see that, but once I did, he agreed, and we went our separate ways. No fanfare. No hard feelings. No nothing.

Yes, when he popped back into my life six months later on the arm of my older sister, I was surprised.

Who the fuck wouldn’t be? But that’s all it was, shock.

I knew they were a much better fit than Arnold and I ever were the minute I saw them together.

Hell, I was the one who comforted Ri when she started panicking that they were moving too fast due to Arnold proposing after three months.

I was the one who convinced her not to break things off, and yet somewhere along the way, everyone deluded themselves into thinking that I’m some heartbroken woman scorned that’s barely holding on to my sanity.

The shit is ridiculous.

“Mom, I’m good. An extra week in Tulum is exactly what I need right now.” Beautiful weather, beaches, and a private pool? I will be living my best life for the next week until the wedding madness begins.

“You’re so brave, baby.”

Lawd. I need to get off this call.

“Yeah, thanks, Ma. Let me go so I’m ready for Evie.”

She lets me hang up without too much fuss and I release the deepest of breaths. The trip hasn’t even started yet and I’m already exhausted.

From my bedroom upstairs, I hear my front door open and Evie’s loud ass walk through.

“What’s up, biiiitch?” she yells.

I walk down the stairs to find one of my best friends, Evie, dressed in jean shorts and a white T-shirt that does nothing to hide her bright pink bra underneath, helping herself to a sparkling water out of my fridge.

“Why is it that you’re so damn loud every time you step into my shit?”

Whereas Amerie went to fashion school in Georgia and our other best friend, Dani, moved to New York to pursue modeling, Evie and I stayed together.

Both of us went to Howard University for undergrad and we both came back home to Baltimore after so I could go to medical school at Johns Hopkins and so she could get her graphic design career started.

We stopped being roommates during my last year of residency, but we’ve always had keys to each other’s places and she always lets herself into my place in the loudest of ways.

She shakes her head at me. “You may have forgotten ‘The Honey Incident,’ but I haven’t.”

“What the fuck is the…oh my God.”

“God is who I was praying would burn that shit from my retinas and memory but no such luck.”

“I told you Chris was really into food play. If you didn’t want to see him licking honey off every crevice of my body you should’ve called first.”

She sticks her finger in her mouth and pretends to gag. “What is the point of calling first when I have a key?”

“Ask them supposedly burned retinas of yours.”

She laughs around her sip of water. “That’s okay, I like my method of announcing my presence, it gives you the chance to put all the condiments away before I step fully inside.”

“First the fuck of all, I’m not even with Honey Boy anymore so stop it. Second of all, is honey even technically a condiment?”

“It’s too early for trivia, Nelly.”

My nose wrinkles as I look at the clock on my oven. “It’s ten a.m.”

“Too early.” She waves me off. “Get your shit so we’re not late for our flight to the wedding of the century.”

I chuckle at the tight smile on Evie’s face because I know she wants this wedding to be over as much as I do.

I love my sister, I truly do. But our relationship has been strained to put it lightly and her being a bridezilla while planning her wedding hasn’t helped. I’m her maid of honor while Evie and Dani are bridesmaids and she’s been relentless with her demands.

What’s the difference between eggshell white and raindrop white?

I unfortunately know now. Even getting her to settle on the location of the wedding was a headache.

She knew she wanted a destination wedding, but she couldn’t decide where.

Arnold was no help, so Evie and I had to take charge and decide for her.

Did we pick Tulum because we wanted to go there?

Yes. But we also knew both she and Arnold would love it once they came out of their weird wedding tyrant haze.

When Amerie suggested the wedding party go to Tulum the week before the wedding festivities to just relax, I was excited. After dealing with the Prima Donna for months on end, we’ve all earned time to decompress before all fifty of Amerie and Arnold’s guests descend upon us.

We pull up to the airport a little bit before eleven a.m. Evie has a love/hate relationship with time.

Time loves her but she shows it no respect.

She’ll probably be late to her own funeral, but one thing she does not play about is flights.

Despite being a bona fide jet-setter, she’s deathly afraid of flying so she always gets to the airport two hours early in order to get her mind right and prepare to pop a Xanax.

Arnold’s groomsmen, Micah and Christian, show up not too long after us.

Micah stands at about six-foot-seven with rich dark brown skin, shoulder length locs, and a chiseled jawline.

Normally, his style is more artsy so it surprises me to see him in a black sweatsuit right now, but damn does he look good in it.

It angers me a little bit that I met and started dating Arnold before meeting the fine ass men he surrounds himself with; sure, Arnold’s fine too, but physical attraction without compatibility never goes far.

Christian is the definition of a pretty boy, and he leans into it.

He has deep sepia skin, light brown eyes, and his hair and facial hair are never out of place.

Even his eyebrows are styled to perfection.

He’s about six-foot-two but his confidence is that of a seven-foot-tall giant.

Where Micah is sexy but he stays under the radar, Christian advertises that he knows he looks good.

The man has never met a pair of gray sweatpants he didn’t like and today is no different.

Micah pushes his locs off his face as he walks over and bends to give Evie and I a kiss on the cheek. “Ladies, how you doing?”

“Great, Micah. How are you? Still fine as fuck, I see.” Evie makes no attempt to hide her head-to-toe perusal of Micah. He smirks at her assessment, but doesn’t return the perusal.

Christian clears his throat before bending down to give me a kiss on the cheek then standing to face Evie. “Evelyn,” he offers.

“Christian,” she shoots back.

“Still saying whatever the fuck pops into your head, huh?”

“Sure am. Still trying to stick your community dick in every pussy you see, huh?”

He chuckles while rubbing his hand across his jaw. “You’re still mad about that? This is starting to sound less like women solidarity and more like jealousy.”

“The only thing I’m jealous of is your ability to become an even bigger asshole the more you talk.

You know you were foul to fuck my nail tech while dating my waxer.

And what’s worse is they both banned me from their shops just because of my association with you.

Had me walking around looking like a wildebeest for weeks. ”

Micah’s eyes bounce back and forth between the two, curiously.

Christian takes the seat next to Evie. His voice drops to a sensual timbre when he says, “Well, your nails look fine to me. I’d be happy to inspect your wax job too, if you want.”

Evie adjusts her position in her chair and for a moment I think I’m going to have to slap her for being affected by those fuckboy words but then she turns to face Christian head on, pressing her freshly done pink ombré coffin-style nails into his forearm.

“Christian, I say this with all sincerity, I would rather have my pussy waxed with sandpaper, than ever let you near it.”

His eyes blaze with a fire so intense it threatens to suck all the air out of the terminal.

“Y’all done with your foreplay? I’m hungry,” Micah asks.

“Not foreplay, just giving your boy the dose of humility he’s sorely missing in his life. But yes, I’m done. Can you grab me something while you’re gone, Micah?” She bats her eyelashes at him.

Micah gets her order and I tack mine on too before he and Christian leave without another word.

While they’re gone, Evie fires up her laptop to do some last minute work for her clients and I stare out at the tarmac.