by Nia Arthurs
She sucked in a stunned breath.
I stared at her, my gaze unflinching.
She ducked. I could practically hear the wheels turning in her head.
You’re taking this joke too far, Elliot.
I was just about to let her go when she suddenly rose on the tips of her toes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my cheek. It was the sexiest cheek kiss I’d ever received in my life.
Imani pulled back and glared at me. “Happy?”
My heart thudded. She had me wrapped around her little finger. Happy? I was ecstatic. Over the moon.
A corner of her lips tilted up knowingly.
Unable to stand giving her that control, I pretended to be shocked. “Imani, that’s not what I meant.”
“What?” The smirk drained away, leaving nothing but horror.
“I thought maybe you could pay me back by grabbing some flyers and posting them up at your office.”
Brown skin flushed, her eyes darted away. “Oh my gosh.”
I chuckled evilly.
She shivered.
Fastening my hold on the plate, I pushed it gently into her back, forcing her to return to me. Her hips slammed against mine. The air crackled with electricity.
I let the plate clatter to the floor so it was my hands on her back. Nothing between us.
“Mami,” I softly demanded.
Her throat bobbed. “What?”
“Close your eyes.”
Chapter 20
IMANI
When one sense was taken away, the others rose to the plate and took up the slack. Darkness clung to the back of my eyelids. I couldn’t rely on my sight to guide me, to show me.
Still, I could feel Elliot.
His presence hovered over me. Warm. Magnetic. Shallow breaths hit my face, a testament to his wavering restraint. Thick fingers stroked my cheek, light as butterfly wings. My skin, lips, everything crackled.
The seconds ticked by, moving too fast and too slow. I was stuck in la-la-land. Nothing made sense except my rising urge to taste something that was so forbidden it had to be sweet.
His lips pressed against my forehead. Chaste. Innocent. My head lulled back slightly from the force of it. Elliot moved one hand to brace my neck and keep me in place.
I heard his shoes shuffling against the tiles. His fingers scraped the collar of my T-shirt, a rasping sound.
Thick breaths. Mine or his? I didn’t even know.
All I knew was how badly I wanted this. How hard my heart pounded. How desperately broken I would be if he didn’t follow through.
It was a hundred degrees in this kitchen. Was that from the stove or from us?
Elliot drew me up by the back of my neck. I lifted my head, waiting. His lips touched mine. Warmth shuttled up my spine, splicing through every atom, every nerve in my body. Light exploded behind my eyelids. Fire. Energy. Lust.
Elliot slid his free arm around my waist. Our bodies collided. He pulled back and attacked my lips again. His hunger swooshed over me, sending my brain into a tailspin.
I tasted the mint scent of his breath.
Smelled the tangy fragrance of his cologne.
A tear petered down my cheek. Because I wanted this. I wanted him. So badly. But I also wanted peace. I couldn’t have that if I ran to him and I couldn’t turn away.
So all I did was plant my feet firmly in this fleetingly beautiful moment. I slid my hands up the hills and valleys of his muscular arms, past his T-shirt sleeve, up his shoulders and into his silky, soft blond hair.
I kissed him like my life depended on it. Like every sip of his mouth was oxygen.
Elliot’s fingers rode up my back, stopping at the imprint of my bra where the hooks connected. His lips snapped away from mine, not so far that I couldn’t reach him but enough to reveal his disconnect.
He seemed hesitant to run past that band, as if my underwear was the line he didn’t want to cross. I found myself smiling, amused by his thoughtfulness that still managed to echo in the midst of passion.
“Mami…” he said, his voice husky with need. “I’d take you now. But I can’t. Not like this.”
I fell for him again. Right there. In that moment. Looking into his burning blue eyes that promised ecstasy, I felt an intense pain. A bomb had been set off in my soul, and it was primed to explode.
Leaving him would destroy me.
Staying would destroy me too.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked, sensing that—as hard as it was for me, it would be just as difficult for him.
Elliot’s fingers traced my cheek, moving up to my hairline, down to my ear. I leaned into his touch, feeling like an exquisite artwork in the hands of a revered sculptor. Goosebumps popped along my skin, drawn out by the look in his eyes.
My thighs pressed into his.
I could feel it. He was ready. So ready.
But he wouldn’t make love to me.
Sadly.
And I wanted him to. I wanted him to trace the curve of my waist with his hands. Wanted his fingers beneath my bra. Beneath my panties. Wanted to fist the hem of his shirt and roll it up, unveiling every blessed row of his abs until it was off his shoulder and pooling on the floor.
Skin against skin. Rocking to a rhythm of our own creation.
It was too hot in this kitchen. Too damn hot.
I buried my face in his shirt.
He hugged me.
I began to cry, gasping for breath. Anger seared my flesh. I hated myself for shedding tears, but the harder I tried to stop the more they came. I was a child throwing a tantrum.
Elliot soothed me with his hand. He pressed somber kisses to my neck and cheek, offering what little comfort he could knowing I was facing a monster of my own creation.
“It’s okay, Mami,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. All I could do was apologize. And want him. And say sorry. And cling to him. “Please, please…”
I didn’t even know what I was asking for. That he let me go? Hold on? Ignore me? Fight for me? My heart was being fed to the shredder and the tiny little pieces could never be put back together.
The right thing…started going wrong the minute I drove here. The minute I walked in. The minute our eyes locked through that kitchen wall cutout.
I swiped a thumb over my cheek, biting down hard on my bottom lip to try and stop the flow of tears. Grown women didn’t bawl about a mess they’d made. They sucked it up and put themselves together.
“I should go,” I whispered.
“Come on.” Elliot took my hand gently. “I’ll take you home.”
I nodded.
Elliot locked up the restaurant and armed the security system. He did everything while holding my hand, pulling me along with him. I stayed close, acting like a bear cub latching on to its mother. I was practically riding him while he locked the front door and closed the shutter.
The night was cool and dark when we strode to my vehicle. A few cars drove by, their wheels thrumming against the tarmac.
Elliot held out his hand. “Where are your keys?”
I reluctantly let him go and dug into my purse for them. He accepted the keys from me and opened my door. I slid inside, waiting for him to get in.
Awkward silence filled the air as he drove me home. I reached out to turn the radio on.
He didn’t stop me.
We listened to a station that played songs so old only people Gran’s age would be able to identify them. The sultry tone of the saxophone loosened my bones and helped ease the panic that was slowly mounting at the base of my skull. A soothing voice crooned about love and how crazy it was.
Right on, brother.
Elliot parked in front of my apartment building. He shut the engine and the silence squelched the music, shuttling us back into the awkward hush we’d narrowly escaped from.
I undid my seatbelt. “You can… take the car home. I’ll get it from you later.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
No one moved.
“Well, I guess this is goodbye.” My fingers shaking, I reached for the door handle.
“Goodbye, Mami.”
His words made me freeze. I dropped my hand away from the latch and wielded around. “When are you going to ask me?”
“Ask what?” Elliot sounded broken, exhausted.
“To stay.”
He paused and seemed to consider it. “Would you?”
“Maybe.”
His clothing rustled against the chair as he leaned over, a breath away from my face. “I don’t want maybes. I want you, Mami.”
My breath hitched. There. He’d said it, but it didn’t make things any easier. “Elliot…”
He straightened and stared through the windshield. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Of course it is.”
“I’ve got so many things to consider, you know? We’ve already paid for the venue, the tables, the chairs, the flowers—ohmygosh—the flowers. You have no idea how expensive those things are. And we have people flying into Belize tomorrow. And then there’s Amir…” I massaged my forehead and glanced out the window. My body froze. “Amir!”
“With all that, you can’t deny there’s something between us—”
“No,” I shrieked. “It’s really Amir.” I hopped out of the car and stumbled down the sidewalk.
My fiancé stormed toward me. As he passed beneath a streetlamp, I could see his face clearly. Bushy brows hovered low over narrowed eyes. Flared nostrils. Bulging vein in the neck.
A door slammed behind me.
I whirled around.
Elliot had gotten out of the car.
“What the hell are you doing?” I screamed and gestured wildly with my hands. “Go back!”
My warning came a second too late. Amir bypassed me and launched at Elliot. I heard a sickening thwack as his fist collided with Elliot’s jaw. He went flying back, slamming against the side of my car.
“Amir! Stop it!”
“What the hell, man?” Elliot struggled to his feet and wiped his bloody lip.
Amir roared and swung again. This time, Elliot hit him back. The two men erupted into a full-on brawl. Lights popped on in my apartment building. I struggled to get between them without snagging my chin against a rabid fist.
Two days before the wedding, my life had become a nightmare.
Chapter 21
Elliot
A wet rag smacked me in the face, landing against my bruised chin with a ‘fwap’. I groaned as pain shot through my jaw and glared at Imani through my non-swelling eye.
She glared right back. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Yeah. Don’t look at her,” Amir echoed. He sat beside me on the dusty sidewalk, nursing an ice pack to the side of his head. Anyone passing by would assume he was the winner of the fight, but that was only because his dark skin hid the bruises.
I’d done my share of damage. If you looked closely, you’d see the bump beneath his eye and the discoloration near his cheekbone. Every so often, he’d hiss and hold his ribs.
It had been a while since I’d gotten into a fight.
Honestly, I’d surprised myself.
I grinned, but the split in my lip warned that smiling would be a no-go for a couple hours. Imani saw my tenuous lip curl and her gaze turned dangerous. I averted my attention to the concrete immediately.
“Enough.” Imani scoffed. “You’re lucky no one called the cops. Do you have any idea how scary prison is?”
Amir went quiet.
I cleared my throat. “He’s the one who came after me.”
Imani’s eyes narrowed to slits.
I shut up. Clearly, she didn’t care.
“Fighting is not how responsible adults solve things.” She paused. A shocked expression crossed her face. “I can’t believe I’m the one lecturing you two right now. This is insane.”
Amir lifted his chin. “But he—”
“Don’t.” Finger wagging, Imani seethed. “Don’t start with me. You are both to blame. I seriously…” she massaged the bridge of her nose, “I’m so embarrassed I don’t even want to know what the neighbors are thinking.”
“Sorry,” Amir murmured.
“I’m not the one you need to say that to.”
“What?” Amir’s jaw dropped.
Imani arched an eyebrow in my direction.
Amir trembled. His gaze fell angrily to his tennis shoes and I knew he’d rather chew gravel than humble himself in front of me.
The feeling was mutual.
To my surprise, Amir mumbled out a half-hearted, “Sorry.”
Imani jutted her chin down once in approval. Her gaze slipped to me. She raised the next eyebrow. ‘Well?’
I balked. “You don’t expect me to apologize for defending myself, do you? This guy attacked me out of nowhere…” Imani’s dark glare forced my complaints to a stop. I sighed and glanced at Amir. “Sorry.”
“Thank you.” Imani nodded.
“Why are you thanking him?” Amir pointed at me.
“Because I wasn’t the one who started this. You’re the one throwing punches at innocent people.”
“Innocent? I punched you because you were edging up on my girl, you moron.”
The rag slipped from my fingers as I stood, my temper flaring. “You want another round?”
“Why not?” Amir jumped to his feet, nostrils flaring like a bull.
“Enough!” Imani wedged herself between us and pushed our chests. I stumbled, my gaze still locked on Amir. Earlier, he’d caught me off-guard, but this time I’d give him the thrashing he deserved.
Imani whipped her head back and forth. “Civilized people don’t fight on the street. If you have something to say, just say it.”
“Fine.” Amir stepped back, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. His voice rough with irritation, he accused, “Why are you hanging around Imani when I’ve told you to back off?”
“He was just taking me home, Amir.”
“I wasn’t asking you,” Amir snapped.
Imani placed a hand on her hip. “Excuse me?”
“Babe, I didn’t mean it like that.” He skirted back like a kicked puppy.
“Then how did you mean it?”
Amir licked his lips. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”
“Like what, Amir?”
“Defensive.” He gestured desperately. “I’m not the one at fault here. How would you feel if I was driving all over town with the girl I had feelings for back in college?”
My eyes widened. Imani had feelings for me?
“I didn’t,” she said as if reading my thoughts. “And I’ve already told you that Elliot and I are just friends.”
“Then why didn’t you pick up your phone after calling me? Why did he drive you home?”
Her gaze skittered to the coconut trees dancing in the wind. “It’s a long story.”
Pretty short story, actually.
“Look, I don’t know what happened to you two in college and I don’t care. You’re not in college anymore. You’re here. With me.” He took her hand.
I scowled.
Amir ignored me and continued, “On Saturday, I’m going to pledge my life to you. I’ll make a promise in front of God and my mother and I’m going to mean it.” He shook his head. “I know I haven’t been perfect, but I hope I’ve shown you over this past two years that you can trust my love for you.”
Imani nodded slowly.
Was she seriously getting swayed by that?
Amir’s voice cracked. “I love you, Imani. I love you with my every breath. And I’m not afraid to shout that to the world. I’m a fool for you. That’s why it pisses me off when I see you with some other guy.” His eyes inched toward me before doubling back on her. “I guess I’m scared of losing you.”
Was that the light or were Imani’s eyes filling with tears?
Come on.
Imani sniffed. “Amir, I don’t d
eserve you.”
Something cold pricked my heart.
“You do.” He rubbed her cheek. “I can’t imagine my life without you, Imani. You’re so important to me that I’d go crazy without you.”
Was that a threat?
My mouth twitched. I wanted to speak up, so badly, but I could almost hear Gran’s voice in my head telling me to butt out. This wasn’t my conversation. It was something Imani needed to sort out for herself.
“You shouldn’t…” she sucked in a shaking breath, “you shouldn’t think so highly of me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not worth it. You could get hurt.”
“If you’re the one doing the breaking, my heart can take it.”
Imani’s eyes darted to me.
A tear spilled down her cheek.
I watched her, my chest aching. She wasn’t crying because she was moved. The Mami-sensors that had tripped back into place the moment I bumped into Imani at the hotel two weeks ago revealed the truth.
Guilt.
She was crying from shame.
My fingers tightened into fists as a memory of her hot lips on mine invaded the quiet night. I knew she was thinking of it too.
In the tense moment, that shared vision broke us. Tainted what I’d considered a turning point in a relationship that I wanted to pursue with her.
Imani’s mounting regret convinced me that I’d gotten too hasty, too cocky. I’d assumed that her feelings, once sorted out, would lead her back into my arms. That she just needed some time and space to get over Amir.
But maybe I was wrong.
Maybe she loved him too.
Imani’s shoulders shook and she bowed her head.
“Baby,” Amir shot forward and enveloped her in a hug, “why are you crying?” Then his head whipped up and he seared me with a dark look. As if I’d pushed Imani to tears.
Something wet plopped into my hair. I glanced up and saw dark clouds swirling in the once-calm sky. Grey mists covered up the clouds and turned the air frigid.
I breathed deeply, my chest heaving. A storm had descended, one I hadn’t been prepared for. My mind whirled with shock. The growing sense that Imani would reject me made it hard to focus, to think.
Imani pushed Amir back. “What if… what if I told you I kissed someone else?” She ran a hand through her hair. “What if I liked it as much as I regretted it?”