“You good?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I nod, tightening my arms around him as he looks ahead.
The bike roars, and we start to fly across the road. I savor each moment of it.
#FallingforYou
EIGHT
#PhantomKiss
“Noooooo …” Candee throws her head back and looks at the ceiling. “God, life’s so unfair to me? Why?” Her lips wobble, and I roll my eyes so hard they nearly get stuck there.
“Stop being so dramatic,” I scoff, shaking my head at her idiocy.
Candee gets off her bed and walks to mine in two strides. “Dramatic? You were in Remi’s house, and you didn’t even try. I’ve been following Nicholas’s ass for the past few weeks, and he hasn’t even noticed. I’m not sure the guy even knows my name, although I’ve introduced myself to him like fifty times now,” she exclaims, throwing her hands exasperatedly in the air. “He calls me little horror.”
I release a long breath. “I just don’t know what to say.” I shrug.
“I guess I’m going to look on the bright side. He has a nickname for me.” Her goofy grin makes an appearance.
“I’ll say it’s a cute one considering your awesome personality,” I roll my eyes before getting back to my book.
She hums and gets on my bed, putting her face behind my book, which forces me to lower the paperback to look at her. “What,” I ask in annoyance.
“Can I at least have his address?” she asks in a tiny voice, batting her lashes at me.
“Hmm … I don’t think I’m going to do that,” I confess. Candee would stalk Nicholas, and it’s honestly not the safest place to be. On top of that, with the way Candee’s head functions, she has more chances of falling into trouble than falling onto Nicholas.
“Oh, c’mon. Please.”
“Nope. And you need to finish getting ready. We leave in half an hour, and you’re still not dressed,” I say, bringing my paperback up and get back to reading.
Candee whines some more before finally getting off my bed. She finishes getting ready just as our cab arrives. I hesitate at the door, looking back at Remi’s clothes. The right thing would be to give them to him today, but that’ll mean not returning to his place, and I’d like to go back—for Wylla, of course. I leave the clothes and lock the door behind me.
By the time we reach the studio, my ears are blistered from Candee’s whining. We enter the class, and as if he senses us, Remi turns around. Our gaze meets, and like every time we’ve looked at each other, neither of us looks away. Only now, there’s a sort of tension between us. We’ll kiss when we’re unable to stop ourselves from kissing each other.
“Go talk to him,” I hear Candee whisper, still trying to get Remi to be my rebound. A tinge of nervousness makes me hesitate, but then I shake it off and walk to Remi. He leaves the person he’s talking to and joins me midway.
“Hey.” He stops when he’s right in front of me.
“Hey.”
The corners of his eyes crinkle. “You look pretty,” he praises, running a hand over the back of his head, messing the hair there. But, more importantly, showing strong muscles beneath those sleeves—rawr.
My breath hitches, but then I look down at my green T-shirt. “Feed me and tell me I’m pretty” is written in white.
My cheeks blush, and I bite down on my lips, but this doesn’t stop my sheepish grin from making an appearance. “Thanks.”
“So, your book reached the dorm safely?”
I nod. “It did, all thanks to you.”
He shrugs and dips his hands in his pockets, flexing his muscles. “I’ve been trying to get Wylla to read books, but she’s just not interested, so I help those who do.”
This surprises me. “She doesn’t like stories?”
“Nope.”
“So, she’s a movie person?”
He shakes his head and changes his body weight from one foot to another. “She’s more of a craftsperson. She creates surprising things from trash. It’s fascinating,” he says, his voice light, in awe, projecting his brotherly love.
“She’s an artist,” I say, recalling all the recycled stuff I saw at his place.
“She is.” And once again, there’s that awe in his voice. He blinks a few times and clears his throat. “Um … she was asking about you.”
Warmth spreads over my chest, and before my lips could pull a smile, Layla shouts, “Okay, class, everyone in their places.”
Remi exhales, bouncing on his toes. “C’mon. Let’s get in our places.” He walks to stand next to Layla.
The class begins, and this time, when Remi puts his arms around Layla for the demonstration, something hard hits my stomach. My gaze can’t seem to budge from his hands. When his hands caress Layla’s waist, mine curl into fists. When his body touches hers, mine stiffens. And when he looks down at the way Layla’s hips are moving—fire flares inside me.
What’s happening to me?
My eyes lock with Remi’s several times during the class, and each time he holds my gaze, something wonderful flutters inside me. This time, he breaks it only when Agatha and Anthony come between us, lost in each other, a hint of a smile lingering on their lips.
Then slowly, with all the care in the world, Anthony’s gaze drops to Agatha’s lips and he brings his thumb there, softly tugging on her lower lip. Agatha closes her eyes for a brief moment and then opens them to look at Anthony, who is now staring at her like she’s the only person in his universe. Her lips move, “Me too,” and they move out of my line of vision, leaving my gaze to reconnect with Remi’s.
And this time, it takes longer for our stare to break.
When the class ends, I change into my sneakers and see Agatha walking past me. Without thinking twice, I call her. “Agatha …”
She turns around and smiles at me. “Kaci, right?”
I nod. “Um …” I pause. Dammit. How do you ask this?
“Oh, c’mon, say it. I don’t bite.”
I chuckle. “I wanted to ask something … if it’s not too personal.”
“Of course.”
“When you were dancing, I noticed that Anthony grazed his thumb to your lower lip, and you replied as if he’d said something. I’m just curious …”
She gives me a light smile. “He told me that, right then, all he was thinking about was kissing me.”
“Oh …”
Agatha chuckles. She grazes her fingers on my cheek. “One day, sweetheart, someone’s going to look at you the same way Anthony looks at me.” She looks behind me with a gleam in her eyes and smiles. “One day …”
I stand there as she walks away. I know Remi’s behind me.
“Heels are in the bag,” Candee chimes, coming to stand next to me. “You ready?” she asks, and I somehow manage a nod. “Cool. Bye, Remi.” Candee grabs my elbow, walking me to the door, and just like every other day, I turn to look at Remi. Only this time, he didn’t have that cocky smirk on—his face is serious. There’s a storm forming in his eyes, and it’s fixed right on me.
#PhantomKiss
NINE
#Secrets
With a last look in the rearview mirror, I get out of the car with Remi’s backpack in hand. The same rusty and pungent smell of decaying food meets my nostrils, but I ignore it and enter the building.
The stairs creak as I climb, and I hear voices shouting, but I can’t make out the words. The closer I get to Remi’s place, the louder the voices grow.
I lift my knuckles to the door and knock. Nothing. Maybe I should leave? But I didn’t come all this way to go back. The shouting stops, and the door opens, bringing me face to face with Remi.
“Kaci?”
Damn! All this shouting was happening here. “Hi,” I greet, and my gaze moves into the room to see a woman frowning at me.
Remi blinks as if not sure he’s really seeing me. And this is when I realize that I should have called before coming, but then again, I don’t have his number.
“Hey …” I say
carefully, still standing outside.
“Kaci, what are you doing here?” he asks, leaving his hand on the door handle.
His question makes me pause. I begin to shake my head, but then the woman speaks. “Your girlfriend, Remi?”
“That’s none of your business,” Remi spits, the hatred in his voice shocks me.
Dammit. This is not how I thought today would go. I thought it’d be like the last time I was here—Remi, Wylla, and I bonding over coffee and braids. But nope. It’s like I’m paying for not giving Candee Nicholas’s address.
#KarmaIsaBitch.
“I can come by later,” I mutter, looking from Remi to the woman, who’s now scrolling her gaze over me.
“Oh … come in. Remi and I were just having a little chat,” the woman chirps, swatting at Remi’s shoulder and lifting a hand to motion me inside.
Remi looks back at me and exhales. He removes his hands from the door and allows me to step in. “I came to return your clothes,” I explain, walking inside, lifting the backpack—more like justifying why I’m here when I wasn’t invited.
I step inside, and the woman stands in front of me. “Hi.” She moves her hand forward for me to shake. “I’m Margaret. Remi’s mother.” She smiles.
Sugar-tette.
I shake her hand. “Kaci,” I introduce, thinking of the conversation I had with Remi. He said he lives here with Wylla and Nicholas, but he never mentioned his mother—strange.
“She’s pretty, Remi,” she inserts, looking at Remi, pulling her hand back.
Remi comes to stand next to me. I lift my head to look at him and see him scowling at his mother. “Margaret, please leave.” His voice sounds tired.
Margaret? My gaze swings from his mother to him and back to his mother. I was right—I’ve walked into the middle of something. Remi’s clenching jaw and frown state the obvious—he’s pissed and doesn’t want his mother here. But the mother’s expression confuses me. Her smile doesn’t slip when Remi utters those words.
She shakes her head, chuckling. “I’m seeing my daughter first,” she says, her voice firm.
“She’s not home. And I have a guest.” Remi places a hand on the back of his neck. “Please leave.”
“Not without seeing Wylla.”
“You’ve done enough, Margaret. She gets nightmares when she sees you. I don’t want you near her ever again. So, get the hell out of here,” Remi lashes out.
“What nonsense! I’m her mother. I’m the one who gave her life. You can’t say—”
“You gave her life? You?” Remi takes an intimidating step toward Margaret, his hand leaving his neck. “You’re the fucking reason she has to live like this. You’re the fucking reason she’s in a wheelchair today, and don’t you dare come here and pretend you care about her. You left us, remember?” Remi’s neck strains from all this shouting.
What?
I should definitely not be here. Do I sneak out? Maybe if I slide down, real slow, and get on all fours and crawl out, no one will notice. But Remi … leaving him alone when he’s obviously upset doesn’t sit right with me.
“I’m not the one you should be blaming, Remi.” She grits her teeth, her voice low and her gaze fixed on him.
“Get out,” Remi spits. “Get the hell out before I do something I’ll regret.” He strides to the door and shoves it open.
For the sake of tiny mushrooms. This is not good. This is not good at all.
Margaret picks up her handbag from the chair, slings it on her shoulder, and looks at me. “Just for the record, I’m not the monster in this story. He is.” As her words spread doubt over everything I know about Remi, Margaret sashays out of this house, leaving me with questions I’m in no place to ask.
As soon as she’s out of the door, Remi slams it shut and presses his forehead on the wood. “Fuck,” he expels under his breath.
I hesitate. “Are you … okay?”
He takes a few deep breaths. Stepping back from the door, he turns to me and nods. “I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of this …” Dark circles frame his eyes, and the lines on his face show how tired he is.
I shrug. I’m not sure if I’m welcome to stay. “I guess I should go.” I drop the backpack on the couch.
His lips part to say something, but then he stops himself and exhales a long breath. He pinches his bottom lip and shakes his head. Releasing his lip, he asks, “Do you want me to drop you off somewhere?”
I shake my head. “No, my car is good now,” I explain, tapping my foot on the floor a few times.
He hums but doesn’t say anything, which saddens me. I was hoping he’d ask me to stay.
I give him a small smile and make my way out of the door.
***
After I left Remi’s apartment today, I came back to the dorm with his mother’s words buzzing in my head. I’m not the monster in this story. He is. There’s a voice in my head searching for a hundred excuses to prove that Remi is not what his mother thinks him to be.
My mom’s face appears on my screen, and an immediate smile graces her lips, showing the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. “Kaci,” she greets, the delight and sadness evident in her voice.
Emotion tickles my throat. “Mom,” I whisper, feeling a pang in my heart. What I miss most back home is Mom. Even though we’ve talked a few times on the phone, the conversations were brief, and this is the first time I’m making a video call.
“How’re you, sweetie?” she asks, her brows rising a little.
I smile and shrug. “Fine. It’s pretty good here,” I tell her honestly.
She nods, happy with my answer. “And what about your roommate?”
At the mention of Candee, my smile widens. “She’s great. I mean, we chatted so much before we met, but now I can tell you she’s even more entertaining in person. Not one day here has been boring.” I laugh.
Mom’s eyes soften. “Good. God, how I miss you, Kaci dearest,” she mumbles, and I grow sad. Mom and I have always been each other’s support. My dad is an amazing person, and people love him, but he’s a difficult man to live with. He has strict rules, and each one of them feels like the iron bars of a cage. College is my escape—both Mom and I know it, and we’re grateful for it.
“I miss you too, Mom.” I gulp, my eyes misting. Candee enters the room, looking gloomy. I want to introduce her to Mom, but she shakes her head and sits on her bed, leaving me to chat.
Mom takes a deep breath and dabs her bottom lashes. “Tell me how it’s all been going. Are you settling in?”
I nod. “I have almost all my classes sorted out. My books and other stuff are here.” I inhale, bringing my shoulders up. “I just need college to begin.” A wonderful sensation glides over my body, the same feeling I have when I hear the music at the dance class—like I’m ready to fly. I’m so ready.
I end up talking about the town, the people, and how hot it is here, carefully leaving Remi out of it—not that there’s anything to say about him. Mom listens, her eyes filled with glee, and I understand the look on her face. She never got to live these moments, and she’s excited that I am.
Mom married Dad when she left high school after graduation. Dad, at that time, was a fresh college graduate, working with my grandpa at the law firm, training as his legal assistant. He had to come to Mom’s place a lot to discuss cases, and that’s how they met. Shortly after, they got married. I’ve never heard the whole story, but from what I could gather, they were once in love with each other.
Mom and I have been talking for the past half hour, and I still haven’t told her the main reason I called. I’m not going to tell Dad—obviously—but Mom is my BFF, and she knows everything about my life.
“Mom,” I start, planting a mild smile on my face. “Candee and I wanted to enroll in some gym to stay fit, and we decided to do Zumba,” I share, squeezing my hand in my lap.
“That’s great,” she encourages. “You’ll get to stay fit while getting to know the town.”
Excitement b
ubbles inside me, and I nod. “Yeah, but there was a little misunderstanding,” I explain, and her eyebrows knit. “You see, I accidentally enrolled us in the kizomba class.” I shrug, preparing to explain kizomba, but Mom beats me to it.
“The one that dances like salsa but is sexier?” Her eyes twinkle, awaiting my confirmation.
“Yeah, that’s the one. And we’ve been to a few classes since.”
Mom’s hands shoot up, and she covers her mouth. I see tears of joy gathering on her lashes. “Kaci, baby, you’re dancing,” she whispers.
Seeing Mom cry always makes me emotional. I nod vigorously. “I am, Mom, and it’s like I can fly. Like something opens up inside me and makes me want to be myself at that moment. It’s beautiful.”
I hear a soft sob and look up to find Candee’s cheeks wet. She smiles at me before standing and leaving the room. Her reaction confuses me, but I let it go as Mom keeps telling me how happy she is for me. I listen to her every word, letting them seep into my heart.
“Remember,” she finally says. “You were meant to enjoy every bit of your life, Kaci. You deserve this, my beautiful girl. Let no one—no one—convince you otherwise. And when it’s time to fly, you spread those wings wide, and you soar. You hear me?”
I nod.
This is what Mom has always said to me, and each time she’s said those words, I feel like she’s been adding more and more feathers to my wings—urging me to fly. But today, she’s cheering me to fly even higher. And I might just do that.
#ReadytoFly
TEN
#SurpriseSurprise
Heat pools where his hands are resting on my waist. He brings our bodies closer until we’re almost touching, and I can feel his body heat transferring to mine—you’ll get no complaints from me.
Remi’s hand adds pressure on my waist, wherever needed, guiding me through the music. Our bodies move in sync but slowly, swaying left and right with just the right amount of passion between us.
When I look up, the smile he’s sporting lures me further into his embrace. And his eyes—glowing circles with a fire burning inside. It makes me lean into him, and I feel my breasts press against his chest, sending shivers through me. My breathing becomes shallow when he leans down until his face is just above mine.
Darling, Dance with Me Page 5
