Chapter 8
Zanova was quiet the whole way down the beach.
I knew her silence meant she was in her head.
She was acting like she didn’t feel the pull between us.
It was crazy how we both ended up at the same hotel.
It was as if the universe was playing one of its twisted jokes on a nigga.
Out of all the places in the world, here she was, looking like sin in the see-through dress she was wearing.
There were a few people scattered along the sand, their faces lit by moonlight and the distant glow from the bonfire.
The soft crash of waves mixed with faint music drifting through the night.
I led her toward a quiet spot near a cluster of rocks, far enough from the crowd to feel like our own little world.
I helped her onto one of the big stones before dropping down beside her. Pulling a pre-rolled blunt from my pocket, I sparked it up, the flame briefly lighting both our faces before I took a slow drag. The smoke curled up into the dark sky.
“You smoke?” I asked, holding it out to her.
She shook her head, smiling. “Not anymore. I haven’t smoked since college. I used to do it before exams.”
“Take the test high, get high scores. I can dig it,” I said, quoting the movie How High.
“You so stupid.” She laughed, throwing her head back. “It helped me relax and focus, that’s all.”
“Nah, I can’t picture that. Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes lighting up?”
“Don’t let the apron fool you, Samir. I wasn’t always sweet.”
“Guess that wild streak is still in there somewhere.”
“I’m not stuck up, Samir, if that’s what you are insinuating.” She gave me a side-eye that expressed she wasn’t sure if she should be offended or amused.
“Not stuck up. Just a bit reserved. But I like that—it’s sexy as fuck.” I winked at her, leaning in a little closer. Her blush came quick and soft, like a secret she didn’t want me to see. “Damn. Is that a blush I see? I’m already wearing you down.”
“No.” She scoffed, lying through her teeth, trying to hide the curve of a smile. “It’s just I haven’t been called sexy in such a long time.”
“That’s because you haven’t met the right nigga, beautiful. Are you single, Ms. Zanova?”
“You’re just now asking me after we done had sex? I doubt you care really.”
“Nah, baby. I really don’t. There is no ring on your finger, so you are single to me.”
“You are a trip.” She shook her head, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “So you just assume that I’m interested in you because we had sex?”
A smug grin spread across my face. “I know you are.”
“And what gave you that idea?” Her brows lifted, a mix of challenge and curiosity sparking in her eyes.
“For one, you’re here with me now. You could’ve left with your girl. And you let me hit. Twice. So…” I shrugged my shoulders, letting the confidence in my voice hang heavy in the air.
She opened her mouth like she wanted to cuss me out but couldn’t find the words. Then, she just laughed and shook her head again. “Whatever, Samir.”
“Nah, don’t whatever me. You know I’m right.”
“I know you think you're right,” she said, rolling her eyes.
I chuckled. “That’s the same thing.”
“Whatever. Past me that blunt? It’s not laced, is it?” She reached her hand out.
I passed her the weed. “I only fuck with the herb.”
“I had to ask. People nowadays are lacing their weed with all types of drugs.” I watched as she inhaled the smoke deeply, and I could tell she immediately regretted it. She started coughing uncontrollably, so I popped the top on the bottle of water and passed it to her.
“That’s not that cheap shit you used to smoke in college, lightweight.” I boasted, taking the blunt back with a grin.
“Oh my God!” she finally croaked out, her voice a little hoarse before she burst out laughing for no reason. Her head tilted back, and that uncontrollable cackle came out, pure and unfiltered. I couldn’t help but laugh with her. I knew the weed was kicking in that fast.
“Look at you… Can’t handle the real stuff.”
“Shut up,” she said between giggles, waving her hand in my face. “Let me try again. I took it down too fast.”
“Uh-huh, sure.” I teased, but I still passed it back to her.
About ten minutes later, the blunt was nothing but ash. The both of us were slumped back, eyes low, and faces relaxed as laughter lingered in the air. For a while, neither of us said anything. Then, out of nowhere, she spoke up.
“I’m recently divorced.”
“Oh, yeah?”
She nodded, eyes on the floor. “Yeah. It's been tough. Guess I’m still trying to figure out what life looks like now that I’m single.”
I didn’t say anything right away. Just watching her, and the way her fingers fidgeted with the lighter, to how she avoided my gaze like she was afraid of what I’d see.
“Damn,” I finally said. “That explains a lot.”
She looked up, half-smiling. “Like what?”
“Like, even though you smile and laugh, I can see some hurt in your eyes. It’s almost like you tryna forget something.”
Her smile faded into something softer. “My husband… He had a baby on me. I found out the night we met at the bar. It was our anniversary.”
She whispered the last part, but I heard her. I didn’t respond at first—just stared at her while she fumbled with the lighter in her hands, flicking it open and closed like the tiny flame could burn away the memory.
“Damn. That’s fucked up, baby.”
She nodded, her lips pressing together. “Ten years. I stood by him through everything for ten years. And then he went and gave another woman what I prayed for.” Her voice cracked a little at the end, and she tried to play it off by taking a deep breath and forcing out a laugh.
“I thought we were solid, you know. I thought I was enough.”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with you. It’s that nigga’s lost. Some people just don’t recognize when they got something real.”
She gave me this small, tired smile, eyes low. “You sound like you’ve been there before.”
“Maybe I have,” I said, thinking about my ex-wife. “Or maybe… I just know what it looks like when somebody’s been through too much to be playin’ games anymore.”
She stared at me for a beat longer, then leaned back against my shoulder, exhaling like the weight of her confession finally left her chest.
“I hate to admit this… But it still hurts.”
“I know,” I said. “But trust me, he's the one who’s gon’ feel that loss even greater.”
“How do you know that?”
“Ain’t no man walking away from a woman like you and sleeping peacefully at night. That nigga probably scrolling through your old pictures right now, mad at your glow up.”
That made her laugh. “Boy, you are so full of it.”
“I’m serious,” I said, grinning. “You got that peaceful glow. That’s the kind of glow that makes a man rethink all his bad decisions.”
She covered her face, still laughing, with her high ass. “You sound crazy.”
“Nah, just observant.” I reached over and moved one of her loose braids behind her ear. “You got that energy, baby. The kind of energy that can’t be replaced. Don’t let anyone take that from you.”
“Are you always this smooth?”
“Only when I’m right,” I said with a wink. “Other times, according to my sister, I’m an asshole.”
“You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”
“Not when I’m making you smile like that.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t hide the grin that followed. “You something else, Samir.”
“I’ll take that,” I said, chuckling. “Long as it ain’t ‘you just like my ex.’”
She laughed harder this time, nudging me with her shoulder. “Trust me, you are nothing like him. At least I don’t think so.”
“Good. That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear,” I said with a low chuckle, then let the conversation take a turn.
“You know, when we were in your bakery, watching you mix and move like that… All I could think about was how sweet that pussy tasted.” I dragged my tongue across my lips, slow and deliberate.
“You already know it’s sweet,” she blurted before slapping a hand over her mouth, like she couldn’t believe the words came out.
I laughed, deep and rough. “Nah, don’t take it back now. Stand on business, baby girl. Talk your shit.”
“Blame it on that strong-ass weed! I still can’t believe I said that.” She groaned, shaking her head with a smile.
“Don’t,” I said, leaning closer, my voice dropping low. “You only get one life, Nova baby. Might as well live it honest.”
She nodded but was quiet before she asked, “Do you want kids?”
I didn’t know where that came from. However, I answered honestly.
“Yeah. I want like two or three shorties. My ex-wife didn’t want any kids.
I was cool with that because I was in the streets heavy and didn’t want to bring a kid in this world that I couldn’t give much time to.
Things are different now, though. What about you? ”
I noticed she got quiet and didn’t answer immediately. When the DJ switched from the rap music he was spinning to some soft shit by DVSN, her answering at all wasn’t happening.
“Ohh! This is my song!” Zanova sang before she stood up and began to dance.
As “Touch It” played, she moved her body with a sensual grace that was impossible to ignore.
And with the song picked, the scene before me grew even more sexy.
I definitely wanted to touch it! Every fucking crevice!
Her hips swayed rhythmically, drawing me in with every fluid motion to the point a nigga was hypnotized.
With her hands tracing invisible patterns from her stomach to her neck, gripping it as she held her bottom lip captive between her teeth, I was stuck.
The way she danced was hypnotic, each movement a perfect blend of confidence that was luring me into her world.
Wherever her mind was at this moment, I damn sure wanted to be.