Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
I climbed off and moved between his legs again to let him finish in my mouth. He let out a carnal groan like I’d never heard before as he came. His come was hot and salty, and I swallowed it down as he lay on his back again with a moan and several twitches.
He clung to my head as I pulled back up for air, and while he lay like that, subdued and spasming, I licked him once more, which really made him lose it.
I climbed on the bed to lie next to him. One of his arms was resting on his forehead, and his chest rose and fell as he caught his breath. I peeled his arm away, and he cracked a lazy smile.
When he sat up on his elbows, he gripped my chin in his fingers and brought his mouth to mine.
“I fucking love you,” he whispered. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
I giggled, kissed him again, and said, “Only if you’ll be my boyfriend.”
SIXTY-TWO
DAVINA
Deke’s away game after we made up proved all the naysayers wrong.
It was one of his best games yet, and suddenly the commentators were trying to figure out how he’d made such a strong comeback.
Truth is, he’d never lost his touch; it was just his gloomy heart that’d weighed him down. I promised him I would never do that to him again—walk away, leave him alone. This time, I was here to stay, and unless he gave me a reason to leave, I wasn’t going anywhere.
Three weeks had passed since I’d gone to Deke’s condo, but we made a way to see each other every weekend. It was that third week when I realized it would be a full year since Lewis died.
One full year.
I couldn’t believe it.
I expected to feel completely broken and torn up when I saw the reminder in my calendar, but I wasn’t. For once I was okay. I cried (of course I did), but after pulling myself together, I called my mom and Octavia and asked them to come to Charlotte for the weekend to honor him.
On November 2, my house was full of familiar faces. Tish had come with Lorenzo; my sister, brother, and mother were there, as well as a few of Lew’s old friends and football teammates from college. And though I didn’t want to, I invited Gloria. She still wasn’t happy with me, but she lowered her pride just a notch to make an appearance.
We took turns going around the room and sharing our favorite memories of Lewis, then we ate a cake with his face on it. It was a nice night.
I was sure Deke would’ve come, too, but he had a game in Houston. He called me as soon as he got home, but by that time, it was nearing midnight and everyone was gone except Mama, Octavia, and Abe.
“I’m sorry I missed it,” Deke said as I threw plastic cups in the trash.
“Deke, it’s fine,” I assured him.
“I bet it was nice.”
I studied his face on the screen and how his eyes turned away. “I think you should do something like that for your brother.”
“Yeah. I should. I’ll tell my sisters about it.” He set his phone down to pour himself a bowl of Cocoa Puffs. That was his treat after every game, and hearing the cereal clink in the bowl always made me smile.
“My mom wants me to come to her place for Thanksgiving,” he said, pouring the milk.
“That’s a good thing, right?”
He propped the phone up on something so I could see him straight on. “No. She invited my dad.”
My brows drew together, confused. “What’s wrong with that?”
“I despise that motherfucker,” he said, then shoveled a big scoop into his mouth.
“Why?”
After he chewed, he asked, “Do you wanna know the whole story over the phone or in person?”
“I think in person would be better, but now I’ll be wondering why you hate him until the next time I see you,” I said, laughing, and he gave me a closed-lip smile.
“It won’t be long until I see you again.”
“Vina?” I looked to find the voice, and it was Abe standing in his pajamas and rubbing his eyes.
“Hey, Abe. What’s wrong?”
“I can hear you talking,” he informed me, then moseyed around me to take a cup out of one of the cupboards. He filled it with water and gulped some down. He glanced at my phone and did a double take before leaning in and narrowing his eyes.
“Is that Deke Bishop?” he asked, and I could see his face light up, even though he avoided mine.
“It is.” I laughed. “Would you like to speak to him?”
“No, no.” Abe backed away, excited but nervous.
“Is that King Abe?” Deke asked, and for the first time that day, Abe connected his eyes with mine. It was brief, but still something.