Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Our first time together was stolen from us, and I don’t hold against her any who have come since. But the truth was carved into ancient tablets of stone and etched into our hearts.
I love her.
And from here on out, I want to be her last.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Kimba
“This is delicious.” I try not to slurp a spoonful of the savory pho too loudly. “You made this?”
“Please don’t be too impressed.” Ezra smiles through the glow of the candles on the dining room table. “You’ve had my stuffed French toast and my pho. That’s the extent of my culinary talents unless it’s in a box and says, ‘add water.’”
“Well, you’re very talented.” I roll a lascivious look over him seated across from me. “In the most delightful ways. I love the way you fuck.”
The boy Ezra would have blushed and shoved his hands in his pockets, shuffled his feet had I said something like that to him. Not that I would have in the eighth grade, but even when our classmates made dirty jokes back then, red would crawl up Ezra’s neck and over his cheeks.
The man Ezra returns my look with interest, his eyes caressing my nipples pebbled through his T-shirt.
“What you said.” I tip my head toward the foyer. “Out there.”
“What about it?” He doesn’t hedge or pretend he doesn’t know which part I mean.
“You said you wanted to be my last.”
“I do.”
We stare at each other through steam and candlelight, seeing clearly.
“I’m not asking you to put a name to it or formalize it yet, Tru, but I already know I only want you.”
For an anoxic second, I can’t breathe. Those words take my breath, steal my reasons for never wanting strings. What if he is the reason I never wanted strings? For the first time with anyone, I want to put a name to it.
Us.
Mine.
His.
Love.
I sort through the new emotions he has inspired. Are they new? Or just renewed from our childhood? Reborn into this age, this new epoch of our lives?
The back door opens to the kitchen.
“It’s just me!”
Ezra’s lips tighten and exasperation crinkles a frown on his face. I touch his hand on the table.
“We’ll talk more later,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Promise.”
“Pho!” Mona yells from the kitchen. “I thought I smelled it wafting all across the backyard through my window.”
Ezra rolls his eyes and silently mouths “wafting.” I cover my mouth to suppress the giggle that threatens to come out. He gives me a wry grin and drops his head back to stare at the ceiling when we hear Mona in the cabinet getting a bowl, rummaging through the drawer for a spoon.
She walks into the dining room wearing a huge smile and a T-shirt declaring I AM MY ANCESTORS’ WILDEST DREAMS.
“Damn.” She frowns, taking in the dimly lit room. “Y’all got it all dark in here.”
She turns on the overhead light, simultaneously dispelling the darkness and the romance. She plops down beside me with her bowl and a glass of water.
“You’re outta beer, Jack. You know I like beer with my pho.” She points her spoon at him. “Ya slippin’.”
“I would have stocked up,” Ezra says, his words clipped and sarcastic, “if I’d known you were coming.”
“I always come for pho, silly rabbit,” she says. “Kimba, you were so good on CNN tonight, by the way. Your hair looked fabulous.”
“Thanks, Mo.” I pull a knee up to my chest, propping my heel on the seat.
“That jumpsuit you had on.” She executes a chef’s kiss. “Perfection. I need it.”
“A Lotus Ross design.”
“Ooooh, I like her and that husband of hers—um, the ex-NBA dude.”
“Kenan?”
“Yasssss. Fine ass.”
She casts a glance over my attire, several steps down from what I wore earlier on the show. She looks at Ezra, whose shirt is inside out.
“Did I interrupt?” she asks with a straight face, but her lips twitch. “Y’all been in here fucking?”
The three of us break the silence with laughter.
“You’re forgiven,” Ezra drawls, standing with his empty bowl. “Want more, Tru?”
“No, I’m good.”
He stops beside me and drops a kiss in my hair before striding back to the kitchen for seconds. The silence between Mona and me grows heavy with the weight of her concern.
“You sure you know what you doing?” she finally asks, her voice subdued.
“I do, yeah, Mo.”
Ezra walks back in and sets a beer in front of Mona. “One was hiding in the back. Don’t say I never gave you anything.”
“Thanks, boss.”
I’d almost forgotten she works at the school.
“You off for the summer?” I ask her, taking another spoonful of pho.
“Yeah,” she says. “We have limited summer programming.”
“Thank you again for managing so much, letting me focus on finishing the book,” Ezra says.
“You know I got you, Jack.” She tosses a napkin that bounces off his face. When we were in school, I was the thing they had in common, but now they obviously have their own relationship and she truly is part of his family.