Remi stuck out her tongue. “Party’s in a couple hours. Finish the cake. Let me sample the cake. Practice your surprised face, and tell me what’s up with you.”
Cherisse rolled her eyes and looked up. “I told Keiran how I felt, and I invited him to the party, and we’re sort of dating?”
“Yes, bitch, you lock down that fine ass man!” Reba shouted as she rushed over to the kitchen.
“Well, you’ve certainly been busy,” Remi said, less enthused. “You could do worse, I guess. Have done worse.”
“Wow, thanks for being so reassuring,” she said sarcastically. Cherisse took no real offense because Remi would always tell her like it is.
“You don’t need my reassurances. You know what you’re about.”
Is that what Remi actually thought? “I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know what I feel. I want to try.”
“Plus, she’s getting that good sex,” Reba pointed out, defusing the potential tension with her blunt words.
“Look, I just want you to be cautious as you always are and not jump into something because you’re lonely.”
“I love that you care. Keiran’s not Sean. I feel that in my gut, and more importantly, he’s shown that.”
“Okay. Can I eat the damn cake now since you forced me to listen to all this feelings stuff?”
Cherisse pushed the cake at Remi. Getting between her and her treats was a mistake. She could work on another before they left for the party.
“So.” Reba placed her elbows on the counter as she squeezed in between Cherisse and Remi. “I don’t need to know girth or anything, but ballpark, what’s he working with? Just tell me when to stop.”
Cherisse watched as Reba placed her two index fingers in the air and kept widening the gap between them. Reba’s mouth dropped open as Cherisse didn’t tell her to stop.
“Damn, girl, is your vagina okay?”
Remi choked on the cake, and the entire situation was too funny. Especially because Reba still had her fingers apart, way too far apart, eyes open wide.
“I’ll let Keiran know how much you overestimated. But enough dicking around, help me pick a cute outfit that’ll make him weak in the knees.”
AS SOON AS SHE ARRIVED at her mother’s house, Cherisse was swarmed by family members and friends, wishing her a happy birthday. Most people hung outside under the covered garage or tents her parents had rented for the occasion. Some were inside, drinks in hand, catching up with family they hadn’t seen in years. Her mother had basically turned her birthday into a small family reunion too.
Aunties she hadn’t seen since she was a teen descended, critical eyes taking in her off-the-shoulder floral crop top and high-waisted shorts. She’d decided to show some leg today just to tantalize Keiran but hadn’t considered it would be fodder for the aunties who loved to criticize about everything.
“Buh aye aye, where all that bumper come from? Too much good food, eh?” Auntie Veronica, from her dad’s side of the family, sized her up.
Cherisse braced for a cheek pinch. It had been years since she’d seen this aunt. She was the oldest and loudest. Didn’t have a filter, ever. Veronica always had some comment to make on her hair, or weight, or anything for that matter.
“Hi, auntie.” She made the hug brief, hoping to escape before Auntie Veronica launched into the inquisition.
“Or too much happy times with the man?” Auntie Veronica leaned in, dropping a wink, tone heavy with insinuation.
Cherisse laughed—her default response to anything her older relatives had to say. This auntie would get the scoop soon enough. She wasn’t inclined to tell her about Keiran because then everyone at the party would know. She didn’t want Keiran strolling in with all eyes on him. He was already going to have to face her mother. Poor man had no idea what he was walking into. Perhaps she should have warned him first. Her family loved to pry, and Cherisse hadn’t brought any potential guy around her family since Sean.
There went the butterflies battering away at her stomach again.
“Yuh not saying anything, so is true, eh?” Auntie Veronica persisted. “And I hope whoever it is, you not just hanging out. That cousin of yours always just hanging out with some girl. I swear is a different one every month, can’t keep track.” Her aunt sniffed. “What it is with you all and being scared of relationships? I tell you, I don’t understand this generation at all at all.”
She suffered through Aunt Veronica’s speech about the failings of the youth today until her dad swooped in to the rescue.
“Hey, sis, I need the birthday girl a minute here.” Her father linked their arms and strolled away from his sister.
“Thanks, daddy.”
A smile broke out on his round face. “I know how she gets. She started in on me the second she got here.” He patted his tummy.
Her father had only recently gotten the Gooding paunch that all his brothers seemed to grow as they got older. He hadn’t gotten the hair loss yet. His short fro was going strong, if not a little greyer. Brown hands drummed idly against his belly as he walked them over to where some finger foods were laid out.
“So, your friend still coming?” he asked as he steered them over to the food table.
Cherisse’s face prickled as she flushed. “Yeah.”
“What you want to eat?” he continued, not pursuing the topic any further. She could always count on her father to not pry too much. It helped with her tumbling tummy, especially since she was braced for her mother’s reaction.
Her mother’s scolding didn’t get any less harsh with age, but Cherisse would stick up for herself and Keiran if needed. But some food for fortification couldn’t hurt.
There were Styrofoam cups of geera chicken and pork, fried wings with honey mustard dipping sauce, and pholourie with tamarind sauce. This wasn’t even half of the food her mother would’ve cooked or organized with others to bring. These were just cutters, the appetizers to soothe any grumbling bellies. The main course wouldn’t be served until later in the evening.
Cherisse reached for a cup of geera chicken. “This looks so good.”
Her father looked around before reaching for the geera pork. He maneuvered her, so she stood directly in front of him, shielding his view from her mother’s laser eyes.
“Seriously?”
Her father dug into the cup. “Listen, I not able to hear no talk from your mother about how I not supposed to be eating this. Just let me have this one cup.”
The laughter burst out of her, loud and rambunctious, which was usually a siren call for her mother, who detested Cherisse’s laugh and always found it unbecoming of a lady. She didn’t care. It amused her that her father, who towered over her 5’2” mother, hid to eat some pork for fear of his wife’s wrath. But when her mother got going, she wouldn’t let a little thing like her height stop her. Her mother didn’t raise her voice—because ladies didn’t ever do such a thing—but she was so adept at cutting someone down with her words that you felt that tongue lashing for days after.
“Alright, but you better eat fast.” She looked around. “Don’t think because it’s my birthday, she won’t buff me too, for encouraging this.”
As the afternoon wore on, Cherisse kept checking her phone. Still no messages from Keiran. She’d sent a casual photo of the food, not wanting to send any Where are you? texts just yet, which gave her pause. Why was she so hesitant to send that text? She definitely hadn’t cared about sending a message like that before. Just because they were going to do the thing—she’d get around to being comfortable saying ‘dating’, it had just been so long—didn’t mean she had to act different, be different. That was nonsense.
She sent the text, and still nothing. He hadn’t even read it. Which didn’t mean anything. He could have just gotten held back for some reason. She wouldn’t think the worst. She’d done that enough with him before.
“Please tell me we’re not related to him.”
She followed her cousin’s gaze, and finally. Keiran stood at t
he gate, hesitation visible in the tense set of his shoulders. Dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved grey Henley, he personified casual sexiness. Cherisse let her eyes wander over his shoulders, down his arms. The damn fabric clung. The Henley’s material was so thin his nipples were saying a hearty hello.
“Nope,” Cherisse said, cringing when her cousin Michelle shouted, “Hallelujah!” but she couldn’t really fault her now, could she?
“Well, don’t just eye-fuck him. Go get your man,” Remi said, voice lowered but eyes on her like a hawk.
Cherisse broke away from their little group, aware her mother’s eyes had already swung Keiran’s way, but Keiran looked good enough to eat, and she’d deal with her mother later.
He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Hey. My phone died. Sorry, I’m late.”
“It’s okay.”
“You’re just the breath of fresh air I need right now.” Keiran sighed like he had the entire weight of the world on his shoulders. What the hell happened after they’d parted those few hours ago? But before she could ask, he smiled. “It’s weird, isn’t it? We just saw each other a little while ago, but damn, Cherisse, my heart’s working overtime.”
Her face was certainly red right now. How could he say these things so bravely? “Is everything okay?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I ignored several calls from my dad before my phone died. It’s the worst time to do that, but I just wanted to get to you. I don’t want anything to mess up your day.”
She understood that his relationship with his father was tenuous, but this felt like more. Like something else was causing the furrow between his brows. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. It’s your party. Anything else can wait. Show me off to everyone?”
That she could do. She didn’t go so far as to hold his hand or anything, but her cousins were no fools. They were already playfully nudging each other as Keiran walked beside her.
“Hey, everyone, this is Keiran. My, um...” She cleared her throat. Why was this so hard?
“Yes, yes, he’s your boo, we got it.” Michelle extended her hand. “Enchanté.”
“Girl, you not French,” her other cousin, Venetia, commented.
Michelle sucked her teeth, whipping her hair over her shoulder. “We got French Creole in this family, don’t try to police my heritage.”
Keiran took Michelle’s hand, then Venetia’s. “Nice to meet you both.”
Venetia held Keiran’s hand a tad too long for Cherisse’s liking, and what the fuck, was she jealous? “Damn, that’s a good grip. Strong. Firm. Big hands. You know what they say about big...”
“Okay, we get it,” Cherisse interjected, yanking her cousin’s hand away. Keiran chuckled, not looking the least offended.
By the time the main course was shared, Michelle had apparently won the honor of locking Keiran down for conversation. The other cousins who’d been trying drifted away, defeated. Her cousin had even managed to snag a seat next to him at the table they’d commandeered. Cherisse was on Keiran’s right, eating her curry, watching on amused as Michelle tried to find out how they came to be boyfriend and girlfriend—Michelle’s words. When Michelle drifted off to get a drink, Keiran turned to her.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t know if I should correct her about the labels.”
“I haven’t been anyone’s girlfriend in a while, so it’ll take some getting used to,” she admitted. Sean had soured the entire experience for her, and while a tiny voice at the back of her mind cautioned her to not rush into anything, she didn’t mind trying it on.
“I haven’t been anyone’s boyfriend for some time, either.” He reached over for her hand and brought it to his lips to brush over her knuckles.
“So, it’s true?” Her mother’s voice cut into the moment. Keiran withdrew his hand, and Cherisse faced her mother. The entire table had gone quiet.
“Okay, then. Like up yuhself. You’re an adult,” her mother said before walking away.
“That went better than expected.”
“The calm before the storm,” Cherisse declared, returning to her food. She ripped a piece of paratha to scoop up some curry duck, pumpkin, channa, and aloo to stuff in her mouth. Perfuckingfection. Her mother’s passive-aggressive shit wasn’t going to get to her. Cherisse licked her curry-stained fingers, noticing the way Keiran’s eyes briefly dipped to the fingers in her mouth before refocusing elsewhere. So damn easy.
Later, they could escape to have some private time. She wondered if it would be as frenzied as ever or tempered by emotions and feelings and shit. She was eager to find out.
“Let’s go dance off this food,” Remi suggested.
It was a great plan, sweat out some of this food. Otherwise, she’d be too sluggish for what she’d planned later. She was going to get her some birthday sex, and no curry was going to get in the way of that. Some guests were already up and dancing. She smiled at her parents, who were showing off their fancy footwork for everyone. Her mother made her want to scream many times with her overbearing ways, but they were so in sync up there.
“My parents are making us look bad, with their nauseatingly being all in love and stuff.” Remi’s parents were also out there on the floor. The song shifted to a slow tune. “Oh geez, here we go,” Remi grumbled good-naturedly. Sure enough, her parents were being all lovey-dovey. Remi’s father, with his giant self, smiled at her equally tall mother. The look in his eyes was the equivalent of the heart eyes emoji.
The Daniels made an adorable picture. With that bald head, dark brown skin, and bulky build, Roy Daniels was a good-looking dude, and Remi’s mother, Shalini, looked gorgeous with her sleek black bob swinging about her round face and the short kurta she wore with jeans. They also made Cherisse seek out Keiran, who looked troubled again, but eventually his gaze swung to her, and his eyes cleared.
“Shall we, my lady?” He held out his hand, and Cherisse was teleported back to the only other time they’d ever danced. The moment that changed everything.
His hands on her waist burned. The tiny space between the end of her top and the waistband of her shorts left her skin bare to his touch. Not totally different from that other time, except now she didn’t have to be covert about enjoying his touch, about reveling in the way his thumb stroked her exposed skin.
“I am so gonna wreck you tonight,” she whispered just to see his reaction, and he didn’t disappoint.
The sound that escaped his mouth was a cross between a cough and a wheeze. “Jesus, Cherisse.” He looked around, but no one was truly paying them any mind. Of course, family members looked their way occasionally, and she still felt the weight of her mother’s stare, but their private little bubble was intact.
She would allow nothing to ruin this moment.
Chapter 32
Keiran
DANCING WITH CHERISSE in front of her family was the balm he needed for his soul. Ignoring his father’s calls would bite him in the ass. His churning gut said so, but all Keiran had wanted was to get to her, to have a moment where he didn’t have to worry about anything else. Just for a little while. He chose to interpret his phone dying before he could return the calls as a sign. The phone was currently charging, and Cherisse was busy being pumped for information by a small group of relatives.
They occasionally glanced his way, and obviously, he was the topic of discussion. He threw them a small wave because why not? Cherisse’s eye-roll was visible from here, but so was her smile. How had he gotten so lucky?
Tell her.
The chant had followed him all the way over here, and he’d pulled out every excuse to delay the moment he’d have to let her know about Sean and the plans for the video.
You’re not supposed to tell anyone. Cherisse wasn’t just anyone.
It’s her birthday. You don’t want to ruin it. You’re making it worse by stringing this out.
You don’t want her to return to looking at you like you’re the accidental piece of shit she trod on.
No
matter what excuse he told himself, that one was really the issue. This thing between them was new and fragile. He didn’t want to shatter it before they’d really had a chance. But that was selfish.
He inhaled deeply, then released his breath slowly. Now. It had to be now. But first, he needed to check his phone. He’d left it charging near the DJ. Her cousin, who was managing that spot, pointed to his phone as soon as he approached.
“Someone’s really trying to get you. Thing’s been making noise non-stop.” Roan? Roger? He couldn’t recall the name—Cherisse had too many cousins—but he unplugged the phone.
“Thanks.”
Numerous calls from his father, but it was the message sent a few minutes ago that felt like a kick to the throat.
Dad: Promo has gone live.
Shit! No, no, no.
He dialed his father’s number. Why the fuck had he ignored him?
“What the hell? I thought we were getting an advanced heads up about going live?” he shouted as soon as the call connected.
“Good of you to finally return my call. We couldn’t wait for you to decide to grace us with your time, so an executive decision was made.” His father sounded bored, but underneath that casual tone, he was pissed. “We’re already getting quite a bit of traction on social.”
“Fuck.” He couldn’t blame his father for any of this. Ignoring the man always had consequences, and God, he needed to talk to Cherisse now.
“Is there a problem?”
“Yeah. Nothing you’d care about.” He hung up and immediately noticed missed calls from Dale too, and a string of messages.
Dale: your dad called. we’re going live apparently! Did you know it was today?
Dale: guess it’s a surprise to everyone. I’m posting to our accounts.
Keiran needed to move, go talk to Cherisse, but he hadn’t seen the finished teaser. He needed to know how bad this would be. All they’d needed from him was the completed track. KKE was responsible for everything else. So, of course, the first thing he was hit with when he opened their DK Productions Instagram was a cut of his fight video with Sean as a sample of the track played over it. The caption talked about the collaboration between Sean and Sheila and DK Productions’ role in it all, with a link to the full track and story behind the song. There was even the option to swipe for a more behind-the-scenes look.
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