Chapter 32
“These places always smell like pine needles.” David wrinkled his nose as we turned down yet another aisle of wicker baskets and half-priced ghost mugs. “And cinnamon.”
“You always smell like pine needles and cinnamon,” I retorted as I picked up another basket and tossed it into our stacked cart. David had made the mistake of driving me to the side of town where all the families lived and rich people invested. We’d come for Thai food and stayed for hand-dyed rugs.
“Then I don’t know how you stand me,” he lamented.
“I hold my breath in increments.” I went to dump another basket in only for David to catch my wrist. The smile I offered made him laugh.
“You can’t be serious.” He kept hold of my wrist even though I successfully dropped the basket into the cart. His grip was more than welcome. I didn’t know how we’d done it before, not touching. It seemed impossible now.
“I don’t need this much stuff.” David frowned at all the items in the cart—most of which were hand-picked by yours truly.
“You told me you wanted your apartment to feel more like a home.” I poked out my bottom lip, feigning offense.
To be honest, I didn’t care how sanitized David wanted to keep his place; I just liked the excuse of being able to spend more time with him.
As the new week quickly approached, so did my responsibilities on the opposite side of campus, and his on the field.
“Yeah, and I bought some stuff that made it feel like that.”
I raised a brow. “A couple of throw blankets and decorative pillows?”
“They’re shaped like leaves.”
I snorted. “Your eye for interior decorating is enviable.”
“You love leaves.”
“Is that why you bought them?”
David frowned, tugged my wrist to his mouth to give it a gentle bite that meant, fuck off.
“It is. And the blankets, they’re there because that’s my favorite color, right?”
He let me go and released an exaggerated sigh. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, would you believe it?”
“Your world does.” I poked his side, and he started pushing the cart again. “Doesn’t it?”
There was no response, but the faint smile on his lips revealed a simple, velvet truth. I continued teasing because I didn’t want him to see the thrill in my eyes. The excitement that undoubtedly made my smile too wide.
The guy liked me. Of course, the sex was an obvious indicator. But lots of people could have sex with someone —even someone they hated. Changing their lives was another story. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized just how much he’d changed for me.
“Yara?” David hooked his fingers around my jean hoops, holding me back from running into another person’s cart in the cross traffic of the aisle. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I blinked and looked up at him. “I’m good.”
“Where’d you go?” he asked. Worry pulled at the corners of his mouth.
“Sorry about that! That was my bad,” the owner of the other cart interrupted.
I turned to see a dark-skinned girl in a tight, long-sleeved training top that hugged an impressive curve of muscles and a pair of baggy black sweats. Her smile was apologetic, hair freshly braided, and her cart full of everything from purple bedding to specialty popcorn bags.
“See? What I tell you?” a guy as built and beautiful as her with his dark brown skin and an easy smile offered a teasing reprimand. He turned the corner with his own cart, full of everything she had, but in a different range of colors. “Told you not to race.”
“You agreed to it.” She rolled her eyes, but the teasing curl of her lips hinted she didn’t feel an ounce of malice. The smile triggered a memory of someone I’d seen online.
“Are you…” I looked at the guy, recognizing him from her social media too. “Aderyn? Aderyn Jacobs?”
Her smile faltered a little as wariness set in. “Yeah… that’s me.”
“Uh oh,” her boyfriend murmured with a grin. “You’re in trouble now.”
She waved him off.
“I’m Yara.” I pressed my hand to my chest. When she blinked, confused, I added, “Emmy’s friend. From the Black Women's org on campus. We’ve been emailing. I wanted you on a panel.”
Realization softened her features. “Yara. Oh, man, I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to meet up before the panel. Talk shop. And maybe talk me off a cliff.”
“Stage fright,” her boyfriend explained when concern tugged at my brows.
“I’m not used to talking to people without a visor blocking my way.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “This is Sam, by the way.”
He gave me a wave. “How’s it going?”
“I’ve been emailing you, too,” I smiled. It was one thing to see their beauty online and another to see it in person.
“I promise to answer back.” A bit of guilt bled through his tone. “Change of scenery’s been hectic.”
Aderyn and Sam were hockey players who’d transferred to Westbrooke from their old university, Mendell.
A power couple in every sense of the phrase, it wasn’t just the talent and the skill, but their sheer confidence that made it vital I work with them.
They were so wholly themselves in a sport so commonly dismissive of them.
The wisdom they had about being a Black person in a predominantly white space was invaluable.
And if the org had nothing to glean from them, I surely did.
I’d been lost at sea, wondering how to fit in.
Watching a few interviews with them made it clear they never worried about the how, but instead fit in on their own terms.
“Is it okay if we exchange numbers?” I pulled out my phone, hand trembling mostly from excitement, partly from nerves at making a decent first impression. “Maybe we could get coffee on campus?”
Aderyn smiled and nodded. “I’d love that.”
David rested a hand on my back, brushing light circles on the sliver of skin that peeked through my top.
His small smile indicated he knew I was nervous.
I tilted my head when meeting his gaze, a wordless challenge.
There were butterflies in my stomach when he simply shook his head, showing this wouldn’t be used as ammunition.
No, this time he was quiet support. My stability.
“This is David,” I introduced, finally with some of my bearings once more. “My boyfriend.”
I expected some internal resistance after saying that for the first time and really meaning it.
The label wasn’t fake any longer. But resistance never showed.
The label was a seamless fit. A transition that felt as natural and familiar as the rising sun’s warmth against my skin.
When I met his gaze, I knew from the softness in his eyes that he felt the same. My boyfriend felt the sunrise.
“I don’t think we’ve gone a day without talking since the dares started,” I mused Monday morning when we ruefully untangled ourselves from one another after the most cathartic weekend of our lives.
“I know we haven’t.” David was in the steamy bathroom, trying to see through the fog from my recent shower as he shaved.
I snorted. “You don’t know that.”
“I know it.” He turned on the tap to rinse off his razor. His gaze remained on me through the mirror, watching as I tugged on my underwear and pants.
“Yeah, well, according to you, you know everything,” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that?” He raised an amused brow and turned off the water to hear me better.
“Nothing.” I shrugged on my jacket with a smile.
Messing with him would always be my favorite pastime, no matter how many times we slept together.
In fact, the jabbing made sex more fun. It’d taken me over a year, but I’d willingly admit to having a fetish for back and forth.
Pushback would always be my favorite brand of foreplay.
“There’s never nothing with you.” He stepped out of the bathroom, clean-shaven and smelling like spring.
“I have to go.” I sat on the couch and tugged on my socks, ignoring the look on his face when he came closer. “I have a lot of work to do.”
David kneeled in front of me. “So do I.”
His hand cupped my chin, guiding me toward his lips.
“You’re not acting like it,” I murmured right before he kissed me. David took his time, pulling me far away from my ever-looming task list so I was weightless for a moment.
“Aren’t I?” David teased me with one last kiss and unlaced my boot for me to slip my foot in.
I fought the urge to tug him back to bed as he tied both boots.
“All set.” He tapped the toe of the boot before pushing off the floor to go back to the bathroom.
I swallowed a sigh and pretended not to be annoyed at his ability (or at least, acting chops) to walk away without so much as a glance over his shoulder.
“What have you got planned this week?” he asked from the bathroom.
I pressed my fingers to still-tingling lips as I packed my bag. “The… my org’s masquerade.”
“This Saturday, right?”
“Right.” I pulled the bag over my shoulder.
“See you then.”
I froze, but he added nothing else as he unloaded his cleaning supplies from underneath the sink.
“See me then?” I asked.
He made a noise of approval, and I laughed.
“Oh, come on.” My smile faded. “You’re joking.”
David looked at me then and shook his head. “That’s a mean thing to joke about.”
I laughed. “You’ve joked about worse.”
He tilted his head from side to side. “Alright, sure.”
“You’re actually coming?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because we’ve only just started sleeping together, thus making me the newest entry on your list of things you can tolerate.”
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit.” David leaned against his counter, abandoning the cleaning supplies and lending me his full attention instead. “You’ve been an entry since Weston’s birthday party.”
“What an honor,” I teased.
“When did I become an entry for you?” he asked.
I knew that slight twist of his mouth. The crossing of the arms nearly hid the flexing of his fingers. David was fishing for something vital. Some assurance amidst uncharted waters. I was too wrapped up in him to deny a simple request.
“When you met my family,” I said. “When you told me you liked how mean my brother was to you because that meant I had someone to protect me.”
“I’ll take it.” David nodded with a smile. “It’s a little later than expected, but I’ll take it.”
I laughed. “I’m glad you approve.”