All the color drains from Liz’s face while Sierra continues her rambling.
“I also have furniture options, and stop me if I’m going too far, but maybe we can tear down a wall?”
Liz’s gaze pings from her to me. “Tear down a wall?” she shrieks.
The notebook drops from Sierra’s hand, paint samples fluttering on the floor, and her eyes shoot straight to me in panic.
“When you said renovating, I took that as a fresh paint job,” Liz spits out.
“We are doing new paint,” Sierra remarks.
Liz shoots her a hard look. “I meant, not changing everything.”
“Technically, we’re not changing everything,” Sierra answers. “We’re preserving the bones of the bar, just altering a few things, making them better.”
“The bar doesn’t need to get better.” Liz turns back to me, her face serious. “Why wasn’t this discussed with me?”
“Liz, not here, not now,” I caution.
“I’ll go … look at other ideas,” Sierra mutters.
I tilt my head her way with a small smile, and she backs away, hurrying out of the room.
“What will you hire her for next? To sleep with you?” Liz seethes as soon as Sierra disappears.
“Don’t go there.” My tone is harsh. “Leave Sierra alone.”
“You’ve already slept with her, haven’t you? Jesus, Maliki!”
“That’s none of your fucking business.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“Then, it will be my mistake. I’m a big boy.”
“You’re going to let her ruin our family’s legacy.”
“Our family’s legacy?” I explode. “What legacy is there to be proud of, Liz? The one where our mother was clinically depressed and regularly institutionalized? Or is it when she abandoned her family? Is it our father neglecting to care for his children as he should have, passing that responsibility on to you, or when he nearly went bankrupt and lost this legacy? What goddamn legacy are you referring to?”
Her face softens at my hard blow. “You know what I mean. The bar has been in our family for generations without any renovations, and you never mentioned changing anything until she came along.”
“Let me remind you, I rescued this bar from going under.” I slam my hand on the desk. “I didn’t want it. You knew that, but you begged me to come home and save it—to keep it in the family and make it my own. That’s what I’m doing. If you have such an issue with it, I’ll gladly sell it to you.”
“You’re an asshole.” She stomps out, the door slamming behind her.
* * *
“Am I fired?” Sierra asks.
I took a breather in my office before coming out.
How dare Liz throw out family legacy bullshit.
“No,” I answer.
“Maliki, I don’t want you and your sister arguing over me.”
“We’re not. We’re arguing because she’s stubborn and she was rude to you.” I kiss the top of her head, smelling her strawberry shampoo. “Don’t worry about Liz. She’ll get over it.”
She looks up at me. “Or kill me in my sleep. Does she have a key to my bedroom?”
“Your bedroom is in my bedroom now, and no, she doesn’t.”
She frowns, sighing. “You know what I mean.”
I lean down and press my lips against hers. “Don’t”—another kiss—“worry”—another kiss—“about”—another kiss—“her.”
20
Sierra
“It’s been forever since I’ve been here,” I say, walking into Ellie’s apartment.
“You’ve neglected your bestie while on Operation Dodge Your Husband,” she teases.
“A successful mission so far. Has he been here?” I assured Ellie I don’t expect her to stop Devin from coming over. It’s not fair to Corbin.
“A few times.” Her tone softens. “He misses you.”
“Ellie,” I warn.
She holds up her hand, palm facing me. “I’m not suggesting you take him back. I’m simply reporting what I’ve seen when he’s here with Corbin. I don’t want you to get back with him, but there is no doubt he regrets cheating.”
My throat burns. No matter what, I care about Devin, but not only can I not forgive him, but I also can’t walk away from Maliki.
We’re interrupted by a small brown-haired girl wearing a yellow sundress and a daisy clip in her hair. “Aunt Ellie’s friend!” A smile beams on her face when I spot her sitting on the floor behind the coffee table, surrounded by crayons and coloring books. She holds up a book, showing off a picture of a princess scribbled with different colors, and squeals in excitement. “Look what I colored!”
I lean down to her level and take a long look at it. “Oh my goodness! That’s so pretty!”
She sits up straight and giggles.
“See, you’re better with kids,” Ellie comments. “I’ll whip up some mac and cheese while you watch her not color in the lines.”
I shake my head. “You’re awful.”
“I know.” She shrugs and heads to the kitchen.
“And make me a bowl!” I call out behind her. I plop down next to the tot, grab a coloring book from the stack, and snag a few crayons. I open the book and flip to a picture with Barbie and Ken.
“I’m Molly.” Her voice is bubbly as she grips a crayon and shows it to me. “Purple is my favorite color!”
I choose a crayon and grin. “I’m Sierra.” My voice lowers as I lean in closer. “And guess what.”
She giggles. “What?”
“Purple is my favorite, too.”
Her face brightens. “Really?”
I nod. “Really.”
“Will you be my friend?”
I bump my shoulder against hers. “Uh, duh.”
“Yay! We can play dolls after this.”
* * *
“I’ve always loved watching you with kids.”
I glance away from the TV to find Devin standing behind me. “What are you doing here?”
Molly looks between the two of us, curiosity swimming in her eyes. I can’t exactly be rude to him in front of her.
He points to the patio with his chin. “Can we talk?”
Hell no. “Sure.”
I stand, and he follows me outside.
His shoulders are tense when he shuts the door behind us, and his scowl hits me. “I’ve called you nonstop, Sierra. I’m your husband. I know you’re angry with me, but at least show me respect and answer my calls. Hear me out.”
I cross my arms. “You cheated on me. What do you expect? I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you.”
“What do I expect? I expect you to at least hold a goddamn conversation with me. You’re my wife! We got married, exchanged vows, promised to love each for the rest of our lives—for better or worse.” His words come out in forced restraint.
I scoff. “For better or worse doesn’t excuse you sticking your penis in Louise.”
“It was once. One fucking time, and I was drunk. Please. I’ve given you time. Hell, I’ve even sat back while people walk around, saying you’re screwing Maliki. Him. Out of all people, you had to run to him.”
“I’m not talking about Maliki with you.”
“Are you sleeping with him?” he grits out.
“That’s none of your concern.”
He drops down on a chair, taking my hand, and a sob leaves him, surprising me. Sadness clutches my heart. I’ve never seen Devin this emotional.
He scrubs a hand over his face and uses his free hand to point to Molly through the window.
“You see that little girl in there?” he asks. “We were supposed to have that. How many times did we talk about kids in our future?”
I jerk my hand back, unable to look at him as tears swell in my eyes.
His shoulders slump. “I fucked up, and I’m sorry. Whatever you did with him, it’s in the past. We’ll start fresh and consider this a speed bump in our marriage, act like it nev
er happened.”
I shut my eyes for a moment, an attempt to hold myself together. I can’t flip my shit with Molly watching us. “You can’t have a family with a man you don’t trust.”
He scowls and releases a spiteful laugh. “You think he’ll give you a family? Where would you raise your children? In an apartment above a place filled with drunks? You’re worried about trusting me. What do you think you’ll get with the town’s biggest bachelor, huh? He lives in that bar, and we’ve both seen how well he attracts the ladies. Do you honestly think he’ll stay faithful or that he’ll even want a family?”
“Don’t go there.”
His words hit too close to home. That’s what happened with Maliki’s mom—she couldn’t handle being the bar owner’s wife—and the girls at the barbeque said the same about bartenders.
“I’m owning up to my fuckup and begging you. Let’s go to counseling. I’ll do whatever you want to make this work. Please. I don’t want to lose you.”
Tears fall from my eyes. “I can’t … maybe this means we weren’t meant for each other.”
He shakes his head in disdain. “You haven’t filed yet. That has to mean something.”
“I haven’t had a chance to.”
“I won’t sign.”
I retreat a step. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Drag this out.”
His eyes darken in frustration. “I’ll fight for my marriage.”
“You should’ve fought for it then!”
He abruptly stands. “You’ll never have a family with him. Think about that before throwing everything you’ve ever wanted away. You know where to find me, and I swear to God, I’ll forget anything you did with him if you come back to me.” His lips graze my forehead, and the patio door squeaks when he opens it to leave.
I fall back in his abandoned chair and wrestle with Devin’s words running through my mind. He made valid points. Maliki said his job would interfere with having children, and he couldn’t give them a stable home. I sniffle, wiping the tears from my eyes, and catch my breath.
“Are you okay?”
I inhale a breath and look over at the door where the tiny voice came from. Molly has it open a few inches, enough room for her head to poke through, and holds the handle in hesitation. She waits until I give her a head nod and opens the door all the way, stepping on the porch with me.
“I’m fine, sweetie,” I answer, fighting back sniffles.
She wraps her arms around me. “My daddy says to always hug people when they’re sad and crying. It’ll make them happy again.”
I hug her back.
Maliki is older than me and has never settled down with a woman, never mentioned living anywhere but his apartment, never seemed to want to move on from the bachelor life.
Where will our relationship be in a month?
Six weeks?
A year?
Will we even have one?
* * *
Liz is behind the bar when I walk in.
Great.
I’ve already dealt with Devin today.
Now, her.
We’ve rarely been around each other without Maliki around, and she’s made it clear she’s not a fan of mine—his presence or not.
I should’ve taken the back entrance, but I wasn’t sure if Maliki was working.
She sourly stares at me while setting the clipboard in her hand onto the bar. I twist on my toes to head upstairs, but her voice stops me.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to bitch-slap you?”
Whoa. I expected an insult, smart-ass comment, definitely not bitch-slap talk.
“No, but you do it, and I’ll slap you back,” I quip.
“I see why my brother is infatuated with you.” Her tone is surprisingly sincere as a hint of a smile presses against her lips.
Whoa. I didn’t expected that … whatever it was … either.
I hitch my purse onto my shoulder. “Will there be any bitch-slapping going down?”
She shakes her head. “Maliki would never talk to me again if I laid a hand on you.”
I stay quiet, unsure of where she’s going with this uncomfortable-as-hell conversation.
She lifts her chin. “Are you divorcing him?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“My brother is in love with you.”
I retreat a step, wincing, and force a laugh. “I don’t know about that.” Another laugh. Please sound amused, not scared that she might be wrong.
“I do. I know him, and he’s in love with you. He might not admit it, but when you got married, it nearly broke him. Make him happy. He deserves it.”
“You’re crazy,” I stammer.
I have no doubt Maliki cares about and is attracted to me. He’s told me how much he wants to be together, but I’m still unsure of where our relationship stands. Does he even know how to have a relationship?
“No, you’re blind or too afraid to admit it like he is. You’re scared he’ll break your heart like your ex, but that won’t be Maliki. If you were another woman, eh, I wouldn’t say that, but it’s you. My brother has been obsessed with you for years.”
I gulp, unable to form the right words.
“In other news, I’m extending my leave from the bar. The bartending job is all yours for as long as you’d like.”
I smile weakly. “Thank you … for letting me keep my job.”
She picks up her clipboard. “You’re welcome. He’s upstairs.”
I walk up to the apartment and find Maliki in the bedroom, undressing, his well-defined back facing me. I gulp when he pulls his pants up.
I step forward, wrapping my arms around his waist, and hug him from behind. “Hey you.”
After what Liz told me, I should be on top of the world, but I still can’t stop thinking about Devin’s words.
I rest my head in the crook of his shoulder, and he turns to kiss me.
“Hey, how was your day with Ellie?”
“We babysat.” I pause to hold up a finger. “I babysat while Ellie watched me and texted.”
He chuckles, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head, causing me to frown. Now that I’ve seen him without his clothes on, it’s my favorite sight. Like a child, I hate when he takes my favorite show away.
“Who trusted you with their kid?”
“Hey, I’m exceptional with kids, thank you very much. It was her niece, Jessa’s daughter. You remember her; you two had a thing.”
He throws his head back and groans. “You never neglect to bring up the few women I’ve had a thing with.”
“I’m certain there are more than a few that I know nothing about.”
Maliki has always been quiet about his history with women. All I know is, he’s never had a serious relationship.
He grimaces. “I haven’t spoken to Jessa in years. It’s been months since I touched Penny. Hell, since I’ve slept with anyone but you. Trust me on this, Sierra. Please. I’m not like Devin or your father.” He wraps his arms around me, his mouth meeting mine, and smiles against my lips. “You’re all I want. All I need.”
21
Maliki
I’m drinking a cup of coffee when Sierra walks into the kitchen, whistling with a pep in her step.
I set my mug down and raise a brow.
She’s always been eager and ecstatic, but after Devin’s cheating, it’s faded out some, and I hate that.
“So … I did a thing,” she reveals, her tone bubbly.
“Yeah, and what kind of thing?”
“I met with an attorney and filed for divorce.”
I jerk my head back. Not what I was expecting, but motherfucking yes.
Excitement spirals through me. All of my doubts of Sierra going back to Devin and us being a fling have vanished. Her filing has opened the gates of us developing a deeper relationship than sex.
Fuck, who am I kidding?
Our relationship has always been more than sex.
We formed a deep con
nection before I even touched her.
My grin is so large that I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen off my face. “Let’s celebrate. I’ll take you out.”
“Really?” Happiness and surprise register on her face.
It hits me that we haven’t done much outside of hanging out at the bar and the apartment. Sure, we went shopping and to Cohen’s but nothing like a date. She deserves more from me.
I nod. “Really.”
She skips around the island to plant a kiss on my cheek. “I can’t wait.”
Devin cheating might’ve broken her heart, but it’s the best damn thing to happen to mine. I was right all along. He wasn’t the man for her.
I am.
* * *
I fasten my gaze on Sierra sitting across the table. “Mikey won’t stop pestering me about renting my apartment. He’s driving thirty minutes back and forth to work and whining about his lack of sleep and gas money.”
Tonight has been incredible, and we’re only at the beginning. I brought her to Clayton’s, a five-star restaurant outside of Blue Beech. Clayton’s is the preferred spot for anniversaries, proposals, birthdays, and celebrations.
And tonight, we’re fucking celebrating.
Sierra is cutting the Devin cord, and I can’t wait to throw that sucker away.
“You’d better tell Mikey I’ll crack a bottle over his head if he attempts to steal my roommate position,” she replies.
Shit. She’s not going where I wanted this conversation to go.
Mikey won’t steal her roommate position.
He’ll move in. We’ll move out.
“We’re more than roommates,” I correct.
She taps the tip of her chin. “Right … we’re … bedmates?”
“More than that, too.”
She looks damn gorgeous tonight. She doesn’t dress up much around me, given the bar is so laid-back, and I love the casual look on her, but she looks stunning. I nearly fell on my face when she walked out of the bathroom in a short red dress that showed plenty of leg and strappy black heels, and her hair is down in loose curls. Her lips are painted a bright red. The lipstick seems to be the only makeup she wears.
Just Roommates Page 16
