23. Melissa Domaine
Hangovers hit different when your life actually good.
I woke up feelin’ heavy and light at the same time. Head a little cloudy from all them drinks at the party, body pleasantly sore in ways that had nothin’ to do with alcohol.
The first thing I felt was warmth.
Roman’s chest pressed against my back, his arm slung low over my waist like he’d been holdin’ me there all night.
The second thing I felt was his breath on my neck…slow, but even.
Ain’t no club bass, no random noise, just the hum of the AC and the occasional car passin’ outside.
For a second, I just laid there and let myself feel it.
No “what if.”
No “how long this gon’ last.”
Just… here basking in my feelings.
Snippets from last night came back in flashes.
April laugh-cryin’ when Royce called her his wife in that toast like he ain’t already been practicin’ in private.
Fee sittin’ down with her feet up, Trend rubbin’ her ankle like the twins was in there payin’ rent.
Charlee smackin’ Truce in the back of the head when he told everybody, “My wife pregnant, y’all!” like they ain’t know.
And me.
On that dance floor.
In Roman’s arms.
Not duckin’ the way he held me. Not shrinkin’ when he introduced me as “my girl.”
I used to think shit like that would make me feel trapped.
Instead, it felt like… home.
I shifted a little, and his arm tightened.
“Stop wigglin’,” he mumbled against my skin, voice rough with sleep. “You gon’ make me start somethin’.”
I smirked. “You already started enough last night.”
He laughed low, chest rumblin’ against my back.
“You didn’t complain,” he said.
“I’m complainin’ now,” I said, even though my body was already betraying me.
His hand slid up from my waist to my stomach, fingers spread.
“You good?” he asked, the question he never stopped askin’.
“Yeah,” I said. “Story of my life lately.”
He pressed a kiss to the crook of my neck. “You looked good last night.”
“You said that already,” I reminded him.
“I’m sayin’ it again,” he said. “I like remindin’ you.”
“You annoying,” I sassed, but I couldn’t stop the little smile on my face.
We laid there for a few minutes, just breathin’.
Then I rolled over to face him.
He was watchin’ me already, eyes half-open, lashes too damn long for a man.
“Stop starin’,” I said.
“Can’t,” he said simply.
I rolled my eyes, but my heart warmed up anyway.
His hand slid up to my jaw, thumb brushin’ my bottom lip.
“You know how long I wanted this?” he asked, voice soft. “You. Wakin’ up next to me without runnin’ off first thing.”
I sucked my teeth. “You act like I always ran.”
“You did,” he said. “Soon as it got quiet. That’s when you got spooked the most.”
I thought about that.
How many times I’d slipped out his bed before the sun came up, callin’ it “keepin’ it light” when really I was scared of what the stillness might make me feel.
“Well,” I said, reachin’ up to trace the scar on his jaw, “I’m still here.”
He caught my hand, kissed my palm.
“Yeah,” he said. “You are.”
He tugged me closer, our legs tanglin’, bodies pressin’ together.
Heat started doin’ that slow crawl through me again.
“Roman,” I warned.
“Yeah?” he asked, all innocent.
“We supposed to be gettin’ up,” I said. “We got stuff to do.”
“Like what?”
“I’ma go check on Fee,” I said. “She texted in the group chat talkin’ ‘bout she ain’t sleep at all last night. I think them boys tried to fight their way out.”
He smiled. “We can check on them later.”
“And April probably up already plannin’ somethin’ else,” I added.
He shrugged. “She gon’ be plannin’ till she eighty. She fine.”
“You got business,” I said weakly.
He tilted his head. “You tryna talk yourself out this?”
I opened my mouth to argue.
Didn’t have one.
Truth was, the only thing on my mind in that moment was how warm his skin felt under my palm and how easy my body melted into his.
I’d spent so long denyin’ myself this kind of softness…
Now that I had it, it seemed stupid to push it away just ‘cause I was used to sufferin’.
He dipped his head, mouths meetin’. The kiss started soft, then deepened, slow and steady.
No rush.
No frantic, prove-somethin’ energy.
Just… us.
We moved like we’d finally learned each other.
Where to touch.
Where to go slow.
Where to press and where to ease.
He kept his eyes on me, like he always did, but there was no possessive edge this time.
Just wantin’.
And the way he said my name, soft, low, like a prayer and a curse all in one, did somethin’ to me I couldn’t blame on hormones.
When it was over, we were both laid out, breathin’ hard, skin stickin’ to the sheets.
He pulled me back into his chest, hand on my hip, lips against my hairline.
We ain’t say much.
We didn’t have to.
Later, after I finally dragged myself into his bathroom for a shower, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Hair a little wild.
Neck a little marked.
Eyes… soft.
Old me would’ve panicked at that.
This me just pressed my lips together and nodded at my reflection.
“You chose this,” I told myself. “You chose him.”
And yeah, that still scared me.
But it didn’t feel like I was fallin’ anymore.
It felt like I was standin’ on somethin’ we built together.
When I came back out, towel around my body, Roman was sittin’ up in the bed, scrollin’ his phone.
He looked up, eyes draggin’ over me slow.
“Don’t start,” I warned.
“I ain’t say nothin’,” he said.
“You didn’t have to,” I shot back.
He smirked. “We gotta go to Nana’s later,” he said. “She wanna see your face after last night. Said she ain’t had that much entertainment in a long time.”
I laughed. “I like her nosy ass.”
“She like you too,” he said. “Said you got ‘just enough fire’ for me.”
“Just enough?” I asked. “She don’t even know the half.”
“I know,” he said, eyes glintin’. “That’s the fun part.”
I rolled my eyes, but I was smilin’.
We started talkin’ about little stuff for the rest of the day—
Me takin’ on more high-end events and maybe usin’ the club kitchens for some of my catering.
Him fully closin’ the chapter on a couple dirty investments and focusin’ on legit spots.
Checkin’ on Fee and the twins.
Helpin’ April with some last-minute wedding details.
Regular life shit.
With a man I used to tell myself I would never be tied to.
And under all of it, there was this quiet hum.
A sense that for once, we wasn’t just survivin’.
We was actually livin’, together scared, but still a little crazy.
And for the girl who had sworn up and down she didn’t want no relationship?
That felt like the wildest plot twist of all.