Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
Dice
This is the one.
Lot’s face is half-buried under the pillow, tiger-print bonnet peeking out. She flew here just to keep me steady. That kind of ride-or-die love reaffirms my decision to move to New York, to make a life together.
Too restless to stay in bed, I kiss the sweet curve of her shoulder, and get up.
Thirty minutes later, my arms are on fire as I grind out the last of fifty curls.
Queenie’s scaling the dumbbell stand like she’s on spotting duty.
I rack the bar with a heavy clank and switch to bench presses.
But no amount of exercise can squash the guilt.
Damon had left several messages and I’ve yet to respond.
I towel off and glance at Queenie. “All right, you standing by for moral support?”
“Meow.”
I rub her head, grab my phone, and tap Damon’s number.
He answers right away. Background chatter filters through, probably campus noise.
“Hey, Dice.” His voice is eager but uncertain, like he’s braced for rejection while still hanging on to hope.
“Got a minute?”
“Yeah, just finished class.”
I scratch my beard. “I should’ve called sooner. Didn’t know what I wanted to say until now. Hayden’s your dad. I’m not tryna step on that or trash him. But it’s not the same for me. I can’t just hop on board like we’re family.”
“I get it. I was expecting too much. My dad, too. That’s not fair to you.” His voice carries a maturity beyond his years. “I just don’t want it to change what we’re building.”
“My thing with you is separate from him. I gotta keep it that way.”
“Do you think you might ever give him another chance?”
“He had his chance,” I say without bitterness. “It’s too late for him to be a father to me. But I got my answers. I always wondered who he was and why he didn’t want me. Now I know. That’s enough to start making peace with it, whether I ever let him in my life or not. Can you live with that?”
“It’s not what I was hoping for,” he admits after a beat of silence. “But yeah, I’m okay with that as long as we’re good.”
“We’re good,” I assure him.
“Can I come see you in Bayside this summer?”
“I’ll have moved to New York by then.”
“To be with Lot?”
“Yeah. I plan to marry her.”
“Shit, for real?”
“Yep.”
“New York’s closer anyway.”
“Bet. I got a show in July.” I tell him about DJ Fest. “Come check me out.”
“You mean it? I’d love to come. That’d be so cool.”
I can practically hear his fist pumping in the air and see his megawatt smile. I’m not used to having a little brother who thinks the sun shines outta my ass. Never had anyone look up to me before. Makes me want to be good for him.
We wrap it up, short and solid. Queenie trails me into the kitchen, weaving around my ankles, purring while I scramble her an egg.
She’s chiller now. Training, chamomile, and a scratch pad have worked miracles.
She’s still a diva with a temper, but that’s part of her charm.
I set her bowl down just as my other fiery queen shuffles in, her sleepy gaze raking over me.
“Look at you cooking topless, all sexy and sweaty.”
I grin and open my arms. A month ago, that would have gotten me the side-eye. Now she struts over in short shorts, killer hips swaying, and walks straight into my hug. Melting against me. So damn soft and warm, I give her an extra squeeze.
This is exactly how it should be. Us. Together.
We slip into our rhythm. I pour the coffee; she sets the table. I make eggs; she pulls out the bread for toasting. We brush past each other, stealing kisses like it’s part of the recipe.
After breakfast, we steam up the shower with a waterproof toy buzzing her ass while she backs it up on me.
We turn it out, doggie-style until we’re both shaking and riding that orgasmic high.
Later, we crash on the couch, staying close, working side by side like this is already our life.
Lot’s immersed in designs for her Cat Mom collection that’s already starting to blow up, and I’m listening to sample mixes from DJs being considered to take over my parties once I’m gone.
I suggested Benny be promoted to head bartender and bar manager.
Maurice said he’d think about it. I made it clear my intentions with his daughter are serious.
Didn’t ask for his blessing. Just gave him the courtesy of knowing I’m not moving to New York for sport.
I’ve decided to keep my house, rent it out and stack the profit. Grown-man shit.
The next day, when Rayne invites Lot for lunch—helping me distract her—I swing by the café to pick up C and head downtown.
The door chimes as we step inside Sussex Jewelers. Display cases beam like treasure chests, the glass shines, and the gems catch fire under the lights, throwing sparks in every direction.
A salesclerk in a crisp suit greets us with polite efficiency. “What can I help you shop for today?”
“An engagement ring,” I say, my heart racing.
C lays a hand on my shoulder, like he feels the weight of it too.
Her smile shifts warmer. “Do you have a particular style in mind?”
I take a slow breath, eyes roaming the rows of glitter. I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for, but I know Lot, and that’s all I need. “Nothing too flashy. Strong. Bold. Classic with some edge.”
The clerk nods as if I’d given her a secret code. She moves to the far case and slides out a tray. “These are our one-of-a-kind styles.”
When she sets it down, I scan the unique pieces, but there’s only one that speaks to me. My pulse doubles.
“Is this black gold?” I ask, pointing to the ring that’s pulling me like a magnet.
“Yes. It’s yellow gold treated to achieve the black rhodium finish.” She lifts it out with a pair of tweezers and hands it to me.
I hold it between my fingers as she describes the details.
“The textured band offers that vintage feel while maintaining its modern appeal. The marquis diamond is the center piece, framed by a halo of smaller white and black diamonds that create a layered sparkle.” She goes on about carats and clarity, but her words fade beneath my focus.
The ring catches every light in the room. It’s different. Unexpected. Edgy. It’s got strength and shine. A rare piece that didn’t ask permission to stand out, it just does. It’s beautiful. It’s Lot.
C leans in, whistling low. “That’s boss-level. She’s going to love it.”
“Yeah.” There’s a pinch in my chest as I picture sliding it onto her finger and seeing the look in her eyes when she realizes I’m not playing.
“It’s hitting you now,” C says, reading me.
“Feels heavy. Not from doubt,” I clarify. “But from the magnitude of taking this step.”
“It’s the real deal, bruh. Normal to be scared. You know she’s gonna say yes, and that means everything changes. But you already have. Every step you’ve made, every way that you’ve grown, brought you here. To this moment with Lot’s ring in your hand.”
I think about that. About the boy I used to be. The one who laughed off pain and built walls too high to climb. Who lived by the motto: reject first, then you can’t get hurt. Pretend you don’t care, then nothing touches you. Don’t take risks, then you can’t fail.
But today, holding this ring, I see the man I’m becoming.
The man who tells that boy, we’re all right.
Who didn’t get the answers he wanted from a father he never knew but still faced the truth and let himself feel it.
A man not bound by his parents’ bad choices.
No longer running. Steady in his own skin.
Able to give love and stand still long enough to receive it.
I see potential.
I see a future.
I see Lot. The love of my life. My wife-to-be.
And I’m ready to claim it all.
“This is the one,” I say when the clerk drifts back into earshot.
“Perfect.” She smiles like she knows she’s witnessed more than a sale. When she hands me the velvet box, it feels final. And right.
I grin at C. “Better start working on your best man speech.”