In Love with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 2)

by Belvin, Love

  “I guess it sucks to travel the same class and means as your guests, huhn?”

  Tasche shrugged again, hardly hiding her giggle. “Anyway, yo, it’s good to see you ain’t changed. You still the same ol’ Lex.”

  My face wrinkled again. “Why would I change? Who else would I be?”

  “I ‘on’t know.” What the hell do you know? “It’s just that Ny said after your big-to-do wedding you may not wanna roll with us to San Juan.”

  “Hmmmmmmm…” was all I commented.

  I would never let her know how much that stung. I instantly felt betrayed. For one: Why were my friends talking behind my back. And two: Why would Nyree think I wouldn’t support her?

  That question reminded me of my conversation with Ezra last night at dinner. I could tell he had some concerns about me leaving. It could have either been separation anxiety from having spent the past month attached at the hip—literally—or his possessive ways rearing, but I could tell he hadn’t been ecstatic about my leaving for Nyree and Taylor’s joint bachelor/bachelorette party. I’d paid for the trip months ago, before losing my job and couldn’t get my money back if I wanted to. And I didn’t want to.

  Tasche was right; the past few months had been overwhelming, and the last one had totally turned my life upside down. I was married to a minister who had a strange fascination with sex and practiced it as an art form. And on top of that, he enjoyed kinky sex. And on top of that, he had me enjoying it, too. It fucked with my head. I’d cried more in the past three months than I had in the past six years from being unsure of myself, the direction of my life, and my decision making. I’d been gradually losing control, and progressively Ezra had been gaining it. I didn’t like that shit. I needed a break.

  I was actually looking forward to an Ezra-free zone. And to begin it, I let out an easy breath, closed my eyes and let sleep overtake me while the appreciative distance between us grew.

  The resort was festive…crowded, but it definitely gave off that ‘away’ feeling that was much needed. Tasche and I shared a room with double beds. It was a simple room and would be my haven for the next three days while I detoxed from my new life.

  As soon as we settled, unpacking our clothes and choosing beds, Tasche’s eyes grew wild when she shouted, “Pool time!” her fist raised in the air. “I need to work on my tan. You down?”

  I rolled my eyes as I scoffed, “My black ass is permanently tanned. I don’t need the sun. I’m down for wetting my feet and poolside drinks, though.” Tasche was a mere shade lighter than me, so I didn’t understand her fascination with baking in the sun. “Let me call Ny to see if she wants to chill with us or be corny secluded love-birds.”

  “Don’t hate if they do,” she teased. “You boo’d up, too. I know you remember what it was like those few weeks before the wedding, tryna’ act like you was holding out.”

  With the phone cradled in my shoulder I replied noncommittally, “We did.” I tossed my lips in the air.

  “Get. The. Fuck. Outta. Here. Yo!” she shouted as she tossed herself onto the mattress.

  My forehead crinkled. Just then, Nyree picked up.

  “Yeah.” Her tone was clipped.

  “Hey, Ny. Me and Tasche about to head out to the pool on the north side. You guys wanna meet up?”

  “No thanks. Taylor’s still tired from the flight. I’m gonna stay in with him,” she muttered, seemingly unsure.

  “Cool. That’s where we’ll be,” I offered.

  “Got it,” Nyree sang, but in a derogatory manner.

  I shook it off. I was a bitch leading up to my wedding, I was sure. So I gave her a pass.

  “Nah, Bisssh!” Tasche called out from the other side of the room. “What about these fallacies of you and preacher man waiting until the wedding to do the nasty?” Her eyes beamed wickedly at that fact.

  She didn’t believe me. If it weren’t me, I wouldn’t believe me either.

  “I swear on my mom’s grave; I never saw his dick until after the wedding.” I gazed straight into her eyes.

  There was some relief in being able to share facts about my new hyperactive sex life with a girlfriend. Also something bizarre about the state of it, I realized as I spoke it.

  “The fuck?” She jumped from the bed to her feet, defensively, eyes a different kind of wild now. “Yo, dude funny to you? He don’t know how to fuck?” She inched closer. “He ain’t using you to cover up being fruity, is he?”

  That round of questions sent me barreling backwards on my own bed. I clenched my belly as I laughed my ass off. Tears rolled from my eyes and my diaphragm lit afire.

  When I could breathe well enough to move, I stumbled to my feet, wiping the tears from my eyes.

  “Yo, I swear, I won’t front and try to convince you we’re soul-mates or any bullshit like that, but if there’s anything I’m one hundred percent clear on when it comes to Ezra Carmichael is he’s all man.” A goddamn freak! I made my way to the dresser to pull out my bathing suit. “He ain’t frontin’ about nothing concerning his sexuality.” I closed the door to the bathroom, still laughing at the idea of Ezra being anything other than an insatiable, barbaric sex fiend.

  Nyree never joined us at the pool. We were there all day, had several meals out there, too. We did, however, run into other friends of hers and Taylor. And Taylor… I was shocked to see him just an hour after being down at the pool, considering Ny said he wanted to rest. He was sloshed along with his friends. Corny ass friends, but who was I to judge: I’d married a cerebral preacher’s kid.

  A drunken Taylor and his friends cannonballed into the water, did all types of silly athletic flips and were as rowdy as teens. By the second time the resort staff asked them to keep it down, I’d had enough of the pool. In fact, I was exhausted from getting up at the crack of dawn to catch our flight. The sun had set about an hour ago and so had my energy level.

  “I’m crashing, Tasche,” I murmured lazily, slipping on my flip flops.

  She’d been talking with a couple of Nyree’s friends from college. I hadn’t played social bug, content with staying to myself.

  “Hold up, Lex,” she called out. “I’m coming with you.”

  Tasche was up and ready in seconds. On our way out of the pool’s court she asked distractedly, “Is that Jermaine, Ny’s cousin that’s been soft porn crushin’ on you for a minute?”

  I paid a quick glance and caught Jermaine tossing some Asian chick into the pool. His tan skin was all flat against his chest, his height just as extreme as mine and his smile was as crooked as I’d recalled.

  “Yeah,” I yawned. “I guess he made it.” I continued my stride toward the building.

  “Too bad you’re married. Could’ve had some vacation dick,” she spoke lowly, apparently sleepy herself.

  I chuckled to myself. Little did my friend know, the last of my needs was sex. I’d been totally sexed out recently—kinky sexed out, too.

  We both showered and turned in without many more words being exchanged. Tasche’s ass was snoring the minute her head hit the pillow. Before turning over to find sleep, I sent Ms. Remah a text, letting her know of my safe arrival.

  Me: Made it safely. Bout to turn in.

  Then my fingers hovered over the ‘Send’ button for the text to Ezra. I didn’t know if I wanted to send him the same verbiage I found appropriate for Ms. Remah. After all, she didn’t like mushy and preferred the least amount of words possible as she hated texting. But I also knew she’d been waiting impatiently to hear I was still alive.

  I decided on something unique for my husband, but with just as much brevity. We, too, didn’t do mushy extended exchanges.

  Me: Checked in safely. Will see you in a couple of days.

  I plugged the charger in and placed the phone on the nightstand. Right when I’d rolled over, it vibrated.

  Ezra: Thanks for informing me, Alexis. Enjoy your time with your friends.

  Hmmm… Simple enough, I thought, then put the phone down and found sleep myself.
<
br />   The next morning, I woke up in an unknown bed and foreign mood. I felt…off. I’d slept through the night, yet awakened to a strange disposition. The bed was firm and cold at the same time. It didn’t take much effort to leave it for the bathroom. I’d gotten what I needed from the piece of furniture and could abandon it with ease. When I came out of the bathroom, Tasche was sitting on her bed with her feet to the floor, rubbing her eyes, groggily waiting. We quickly dressed and headed out to begin our day.

  Day two of our vacation went by in a blur. We shopped in town, zip-lined and took a tour of the city. I didn’t see Nyree the entire day and was secretly worried about her absence. This was her shindig. Why would she not join us? It was strange and contributed to my already sour mood. Speaking of my blue disposition, though I hid it very well, it stayed with me all day. I even carried it to bed where I checked my phone and found nothing waiting there for me.

  The next morning Nyree surfaced. I’d guessed it was because we’d all been scheduled to hit up the spa after breakfast. At the table of seven women including the bride-to-be, everyone seemed to be chipper, discussing their impending spa treatments excitedly. Tasche seemed to fit in somewhat seamlessly with the other women Nyree was with, related to, or knew from ‘the other side of the tracks.’ That’s what endeared me to her: Tasche had a gentle and yielding spirit. She may have been rough around the edges, but always emitted good energy.

  “Yo, Ny, remember that time we saw Jim Jones and them at the Passions and I almost got in the car with them, but then my damn heel broke and them niggas left my ass?” Tasche giggled along with a few other girls at the table.

  I remembered that story. I wasn’t there because I worked that night and had an early shift the next morning, but they’d been sure to call me with the details. I was expecting Nyree to add how she was too busy flirting with the deejay to join Tasche on her excursion.

  Nyree, on the other hand, was a bit reticent. Throughout the entire meal in one of the resort restaurants the girls continually asked her if she was okay and attempted to bring her in on jokes. Nyree would reject their notions and refused to smile. I didn’t open my mouth to speak at all. I knew my friend. When she wanted to shut down and be a bitch you had to leave her to it or she’d flip out on you. I didn’t want to have to cuss my girlfriend out at her own damn party, so I kept low. Again, this was my vacation from my new normal.

  Speaking of which, in all honesty, Ny wasn’t the only one in a sour mood. Something was still pulling at me and I didn’t know what. I felt that same level of blue I’d awakened to the previous morning. I knew all was well on the home front; I’d texted Ms. Remah before leaving my room. But something was gnawing at me and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  When I was shown to my room where my massage would take place, I tried to shake it off, reminding myself of the benefits of this treatment. I needed it. My body had been invaded, and at times brutally handled over the past month. It didn’t matter that some sick part of me liked it—fuck, reveled in it—this would be my way of tending to myself. The female masseuse handled me with a heavy hand, but her skillset was no match for Ezra Carmichael’s.

  After spending three hours at the spa, it was lunch time. This was when Nyree’s peppery spirit returned. She’d even sat next to me at the table.

  “You’ve been quiet,” she jeered.

  “Just following suit with the celebrant,” I lightly scolded with a smile. I had to call her on her bullshit.

  “Girl, I’m just stressed as hell.” She nudged me playfully with her arm. “Taylor’s on my last nerve with pre-wedding jitters. I know you know what I’m talking about. Men can be like selfish kids about getting married. They think they’re giving up their freedom. Like someone’s castrating their fucking balls. You know?” she scoffed and popped a grape into her mouth.

  No. I didn’t know how that felt, perhaps because Ezra pursued me with full on stamina. Maybe he knew how it felt to be on the receiving end of having a hesitant partner. It was like he’d been decided way before I picked up on his interest in me.

  “I’m sure it’s natural for one in the party to have cold feet. It’ll pass. Marriage can be an intimidating commitment,” I offered.

  “Look at you, sounding all official and shit.” She chuckled. “Is that the bullshit line you fed Preacher Man when he started to freak out?” She rolled her eyes at that question that I understood was supposed to be rhetorical.

  “No.” I shook my head and stretched my brows. “It was the line he gave me when I wanted to call it all off.”

  Nyree’s face went blank. Something shifted behind her eyes. There was a brief pause before she straightened in her seat.

  “Okay,” she murmured and I knew right away she’d closed up on me.

  I didn’t want her to and didn’t understand what I’d said to make her do it, but I also didn’t know how to reverse it or which words to use to bring it to her attention. Nyree turned to the person to the right of her and began a conversation, abandoning the one with me.

  That night we were on the beach at the official combined bachelor and bachelorette party. I wondered whose idea it was to have a joint party. It was under a commercial cemented hut where light foods were served and endless drinks were handed out. They hired a host and a hostess who guided us into games that were wedding and marital-themed. It was honestly fun, especially when the guests were given different marital dilemmas and asked to act out our respective friend’s (Taylor’s or Nyree’s) responses to them. From my ten-year friendship with her, I knew most that were acted out for Nyree were spot on. It made for a fun evening.

  “Hey there, Lexi,” I heard a thirsty catcall from just over my shoulder as I sat at the bar.

  Such a damn cornball.

  I barely kept my eyes from rolling.

  Jermaine, Ny’s cousin, had been regarding me with horndog eyes since dinner. It made me question my attire of short jeans shorts and a simple tank tee with flip-flops. My hair was up in a sloppy bun on top of my head, but nothing fancy or unusual. Nonetheless, I was used to it from him but not used to it.

  “Whaddup, Jermaine,” I tried for a friendly response as he dropped into the stool next to me.

  “Ah, nothing. Ny told me you got married in July. I was shocked as hell.” He applied a greasy smile. “I guess you couldn’t wait for me to get my shit together.”

  Jermaine had been flirting with me virtually since I met Nyree. When I used to visit her home in Brookville, Long Island and he was over, I believed he was attracted to the hood girl in me, nothing pure or serious. When he learned about Nyree and me stripping that turned up the notch on his interest in me. But he’d backed off after the assault. I honestly thought he believed I was dirty from then on out.

  “I didn’t know I was waiting.”

  “Ah, c’mon, Lex,” he whined. “You know I’ve been wanting you since you used to wear construction Timbs and tight ass jeans to my aunt’s. You thought I was a corny prep boy.” I saw his hazel eyes wander over to my left hand. “Let me see what this dude done put on my ‘supposed-to-be-wife’s’ finger.” He pulled my hand up and into the bar’s overhead lights.

  I took a swig of my Corona and this time did roll my eyes.

  Was that game? Corny ass!

  “Damn!” he croaked. “What does your husband do for a living? Sell crack?”

  I snatched my hand from him. “You would think that low of me, wouldn’t you, Jermaine.”

  I guess only people who went to school like him, Nyree, and Taylor could give and/or receive fancy jewelry. Fuck outta here!

  “Shots! Errr’body!” I heard Nyree shout from the other side of the bar.

  I grabbed my beer and strolled over, leaving Jermaine’s pompous ass behind. I didn’t shake him though. When I went to grab a shot glass from the tray, Jermaine’s bisque colored arm was almost touching mine as he went for one himself. When I withdrew, I glanced up with tight eyes to find him wink at me before tossing back the shot. I tossed back mine
and walked off to find someone to chat with.

  Fuck…tequila! I didn’t realize that was the poison of choice tonight until it coursed my esophagus.

  Soon after, everyone was on the makeshift dance floor, just outside of the tent. It was really fun. Tasche and I had a blast laughing at Taylor’s frat brothers dancing their drunk asses off. Taylor’s one Pakistani colleague and his wife dry humped indecently in the middle of the area, passing it off as dancing. The more the crowd whooped and howled, the harder they rubbed up on each other and smacked pelvises. It was pure comedy. We’d all been at least three shots—some five—in at this point and well past our good senses.

  I’m not sure who initiated the renowned Electric Slide, but I clearly recall my turn going down the man-made aisle with Nyree and Jermaine. I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed so hysterically and for so long. I deserved it, considering my sour mood since waking up this morning. It was nice to be a little carefree in the name of fun. I even forgave how they both danced so close, even to the point of Ny rubbing against me familiarly, yet not sexually. In all the years we’d been friends, I never saw her so affectionate. Again, we’d been drinking and having a good time. I was happy to see her so lighthearted at her joint bachelor/bachelorette party, so I didn’t make too much of it.

  After dancing so hard and being out of breath, I managed to reach the bar, stumbling along the way. I wasn’t drunk, but another drink would’ve put me over the line. All I could hear in the back of my conscious was Ezra forbidding me to drink when he wasn’t around.

  Well, screw you, preacher man! I held on to the bar as I laughed at what his expression would be if I had the balls to say that to his face. Then the swift thought of his response knocked the wind out of me, causing me to straighten while waiting on the bartender to make my water.

  “Peep this shit, yo.” Before I could determine the voice in my tipsy state, Tasche appeared at my side, shoving her phone in my face. It was an Instagram profile on her screen. “This is the girl, Jasmine, that Taylor used to fuck with.”

  I peered closer into the phone. There was a picture of Taylor and his ex-girlfriend, daughter of a prominent senator, Jasmine, embracing each other in front of a big Ocean Drive South Beach clock. Taylor was palming her breasts while her arms were preoccupied intimately behind his head. While Taylor’s eyes were bugged wild and tongue extended animatedly, Jasmine’s eyes were heavy, seemingly from being in the very tipsy state I found myself in now. According to the clock, which displayed both date and time, it was the taken the night before we boarded our plane for the island.