See, that was the thing. Back in the day, some years after my dad left, my mom became this fembot. She was all about work and nothing else, eventually left me to fend for myself for weeks at a time during a phase in my life—my high school years—when I really needed a mom. Hell, if it wasn’t for Nicky and her mom, I would’ve starved most days. Back then, when I would call my mom, she’d have her secretary take a message but would never call me back. After a while, I stopped calling her altogether. Barely contacted her when I was in the Navy, and it took her pleading with me for me to finally come home for a visit when I was living in South Korea. When I did come home, she was on this same family reunion bullshit. When I needed her, she was unavailable and I suppose I got used to that, so used to it that I was rarely in contact with her even now that I was back in town. Old habits die hard and hurt feelings linger. I suppose that was what Nicky was feeling.
Nicky.
For years, Nicky was my insulation from my parents’ indifference toward me. Now there was no more Nicky, nothing to keep me sane.
Shit.
“Yeah, I’d like to hear from you more often, too.”
I smiled and shook my head at those words coming from my sperm donor’s mouth.
“Something amusing you?” he asked. “I’m serious, son.”
“Son? Right. What’s amusing is you sitting your ass over there pretending you give half a shit about me, knowing the second you two stop fucking, you’re gonna go right back to doing what you do best, ignoring my ass.”
“Damon!” my mother shrieked. “What has happened to you? You used to be so mild-mannered and respectful.”
I angled my head to face her. “What? You don’t like my language, my attitude? Well, I guess you shouldn’t have let me raise myself if you want my respect. Since neither of you could be bothered with me during my formative years, this is what the fuck you get.”
Her mouth dropped open. My father’s eyes were still on me, but he didn’t speak.
“And since when did you start welcoming phone calls from me, Wanda? Didn’t it used to irritate the shit outta you when I was a kid and I called you for things like…dinner?”
There were tears in her eyes as she said, “How many times can I apologize for the past, Damon?”
“Until it stops hurting!” I yelled, startling myself.
“Hey! You watch your tone with your mother!” my father bellowed.
I stared at him for a second, then started laughing. I mean, I doubled over and had tears in my eyes, laughing for a good two or three minutes. Finally, I sputtered, “Okay, right. Now you care about her being disrespected? After you cheated on her, left, and never paid a dime of child support? After years of y’all’s booty calls y’all thought I didn’t know about? After you haven’t attempted to be in my life on a real level in years, I’m supposed to be intimidated by you raising your voice?” I chuckled and sighed, then yelled, “WELL, I’M A MAN NOW, KYLE, AND I CAN SHOUT, TOO!”
“We’re getting remarried. That’s why I called you here,” my mom advised in a hurried voice.
Well, that shut my ass up. I stared at her, then him, for probably ten minutes, trying to process what she’d said, but it was like some part of my brain stopped functioning, and when it resumed operations, it started firing off all these crazy thoughts like, how did he deserve all these chances with my mom when he’d never done right by her? Why did she keep letting him back in? Why did she love him and not love me?
Why couldn’t I be with Nicky?
Why couldn’t she give me another chance? All I needed was one.
Just one.
The last three thoughts made me bolt from my seat and just stand there for a moment. I might’ve been messed up in the head, but I knew I was a better man than Kyle Davis. So why the hell couldn’t I get a happily ever after?
I scanned the dining room again, let my eyes rove over my parents a final time, and turned to leave without saying another word. My mom called after me, but I heard Kyle wisely tell her to give me some time.
Once in my car, I released a breath and rested my head on the steering wheel. Times like these, seeing Nicky would help me. Not just for sex, but for her ear. She knew how messed up my family was, and talking to her would help calm me. It always had, but that was out of the question, so I did the next best thing. I drove to Aunt Monda’s house to get high.
15
As I strutted into Club Indigo in a skin-tight pair of black leather leggings, a loose-fitting white racerback tank top, and a pair of black and white polka-dot platform pumps with my relaxed hair hanging free, you couldn’t tell me shit.
In lieu of a bachelorette party, my sisters opted to treat me to a night out on the town, starting with a late dinner at my favorite Indian restaurant and ending here, where I pumped my fist to the sampled beat of Wild Thoughts as we made it to a table near the center of the club. It was a Wednesday night, just three days before my wedding, and after the stiff bridal shower I had endured earlier that day—hosted by Travis’s mother—this was just what I needed. To let loose, get lit, and erase my mind of anything but feeling good, even if for just a couple of hours.
“Woo! I’m about to get turnt in this bitch tonight!” I announced once all three of us were seated. “I’m gonna head to the bar. Y’all want anything?” I asked.
“Water for me. I don’t feel like pumping and dumping breast milk tonight,” Renee shouted over the music.
“A Long Island Iced Tea for me,” Angie yelled.
I raised my eyebrows. “You ain’t playing, huh?”
She grinned. “Nope. Ryan’s ass ain’t gon’ know what hit him when I get home. And here.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a couple hundred-dollar bills, handing them to me. “Drinks on me tonight.”
I snatched the notes from her hand, twirled them in the air, and bounced to the bar. The crowd was sparse since it was the middle of the week, making it easy to carry our drinks back to the table. Once in my seat, I gulped down a generous amount of my Appletini, and said, “First, thank you two for this. Second, I can’t believe Zo and Ryan let y’all come to a club. I’m surprised Zo’s possessive ass isn’t here with you, Nay.”
She rolled her eyes. “Girl, you can’t imagine the work I had to put in to get here tonight. I’m sixty-seven percent sure he put another baby in me this afternoon.”
I giggled as Angie said, “Ryan, too! We literally spent the whole day screwing! Hell, I couldn’t cheat on him if I wanted to. Not that I want to, and I’m still gon’ molest his ass when I get home.”
I drained my drink as I sniggered at both of them.
“What about Travis? He okay with you being out clubbing tonight?” Angie asked.
I gave her a smirk. “Girl, please. I didn’t tell his I’m-a-McClure-and-I-have-a-reputation-to-uphold ass I was going to a club. He thinks we’re having a girls’ night at the Higgs estate, like a slumber party.”
“You lied to him?” Renee asked, eyes wide.
“Uh, yeah! Look, I have a lifetime of stiff parties, Matlock marathons, and bad sex ahead of me. I can admit that, have even accepted it, but tonight? I’m gon’ kick it Nicky Strickland style! I’ma get drunk as fuck and might even get laid if I find a willing partner.”
“I’m okay with the getting drunk part, will even fund it, but you ain’t leaving with no dude,” Angie said.
I sighed audibly, and although I was actually looking forward to a pre-nuptial one-night-stand more than anything, I said, “Fine.”
As we sat, I was content to drink and chair dance until the DJ went retro on us and pulled out one of my favorite anthems. When I heard Juvenile declare that Cash Money records was taking over, I hopped up, screamed “Oh, helllllll yeah!” and jigged all the way to the dancefloor. I threw my ass in a circle, raised my arms, and rolled my hips as I rapped along to Back that Azz Up and didn’t flinch when some random dude materialized behind me and grabbed my hips, dancing on my butt. I was too buzzed from the two drinks I’d consumed at
that point to care about some strange man’s proximity to me or my ass. Besides, he served a purpose, the same purpose the liquor had served, which was incidentally the same purpose any man whose name was not Damon Scott Davis served—a pain reliever. But those were always inadequate forms of treatment, because while Damon was the source of my pain, he was also the only effective remedy.
The thought of him made me squeeze my eyes shut and twerk my ass on dude so hard, I eventually felt his erection against my butt, and boy was it impressive! So I decided to glance over my shoulder to get a look at his face—not half bad-looking, but there was no way I stood a chance at getting that tonight. I could feel Angie’s evil eyes on me. Nevertheless, I shouted, “I’m Nicky!” over my shoulder as he thrusted against my booty to the rhythm of the song.
“Dontae!” he yelled back.
Shit, if the DJ played Bodak Yellow or Bad and Boujee, Dontae’s ass might’ve gotten a taste of some Nicky right then and there on that dancefloor.
I smiled and nodded, and once the song was over, I patted Dontae on the shoulder and returned to the table, fell into my chair, and tried to catch my breath, not realizing he had followed me.
He smiled. “Uh, can I get you another drink?”
Before I could accept, Angie’s cockblocking ass said, “No, she’s covered and getting married in a few days. Move on.”
Dontae said, “Damn…a’ight,” and skulked away.
“Wow, thanks, Angie,” I said.
“You’re very welcome, baby sis.”
“He actually seemed nice.”
Her eyes widened. “Yeah, I could tell from the way he was sexually assaulting your ass, your literal ass, on the floor out there.”
“OMG, you’re screwing with my buzz. I’ma go get another drink.”
I had barely made it back to the table, sat down, and taken a sip of my margarita when Renee asked, “Is that Damon over there?”
Damon?! Huh? What? Where?!!!
My pulse accelerated. My mouth went dry. My core throbbed. My head popped up, and I followed Renee’s line of sight to him—tall and fine in distressed jeans, a plain red tee, and red Chucks.
Got-dayum! Damon was sexy as hell!!
I crossed my legs. “Yep. That’s him.”
“Damon!” Angie attempted to shout over the music. With any luck, he wouldn’t hear her.
He did.
Shit.
His head snapped in the direction of our table, and a gorgeous smile spread across his face. I squeezed my thighs together.
God, I loved that man.
I really, really loved that man.
Probably more than I loved myself.
As he was making his way to our table, I noticed his cousin, Theo, behind him.
While Damon greeted and hugged my sisters, I hugged Theo, who smelled like he had just bathed in marijuana smoke. A second later, Damon was pulling me into a tight hug that I melted into and whispering, “Hey, Nick,” in my ear, before quickly pulling away from me. Damn, that stung, but I guess it was my fault.
He turned to Angie, and said, “What y’all Strickland sisters up to tonight?”
Theo cleared his throat.
“Aw, shit. My bad. Ladies, except Nick, ‘cause she already knows him, this is my cousin, Theo Winters. Theo, you know Nick, and these are her sisters, Renee and Angie. Angie’s my new landlord.”
I looked up from the floor, which I had been studying to keep from ogling Damon, and basically shrieked, “What?!” My eyes shot to Angie.
She shrugged. “He moved in last week. I figured you knew since you two are so close.”
I glanced at Damon who was staring at me, then my eyes found the floor again.
“Uh, okaaaay…Well, we’re here to celebrate Nicky’s impending nuptials,” Angie said. “What are you two up to?”
“That’s what’s up,” Damon said. “Theo just became a father. His little girl is a couple of weeks old. I brought him here to celebrate.”
“Congrats,” we all said. Well, I more or less mumbled it. Not that I wasn’t happy for Theo, I was just unhappy for myself.
“Well, let me buy this dude a drink. Enjoy your night, ladies,” Damon said.
“Thanks! You, too,” Angie and Renee sang.
As he walked away, I guzzled the rest of my drink and looked up to find both my sisters staring at me.
“Not tonight, y’all. Do not go there tonight,” I hissed.
Angie raised her hands. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”
Renee just zipped her fingers across her closed mouth.
When Childish Gambino’s Redbone came on, I hopped up and quickly hit the dancefloor again. Dontae must have had me on his radar, because he was on me in seconds flat, rubbing and grinding, and I just giggled and teased him with my moves. I danced with him through two more songs and was going to head back to the table until I heard Xavier Omär’s Blind Man and was instantly inundated with images of Damon—his smile, his laugh, his body. Felt his touch, even smelled him and instinctively glanced around the dancefloor for him but didn’t see him. And then, I just stood there, so confused and overwhelmed that I didn’t resist when Dontae pulled me to him and started moving seductively in time with the music. Instead, I wrapped my arms around him, closed my eyes, and swayed to the song, ignoring his grip on my ass. When he tried to nuzzle my neck, I spun around so that my back was against him, and he held me around my waist so that I could once again feel his erection on my butt. I closed my eyes again as we moved to the music, let myself get lost in it and my thoughts of Damon until I felt him stop, release me, then back away. Before I could turn to see what was going on, another pair of arms encircled my waist. Familiar arms.
Damon’s arms.
My body reacted in its usual way in his presence, ready to receive what he had to give me and eagerly reciprocate. His tall body melded into mine as he held me tightly, grinding to the music, moving in time with my rolling hips as I looked up to see Dontae leaving the dancefloor. I wondered what Damon had said to him, so I asked.
“I told him you were my girl and that this was our song and to get gone,” he said matter-of-factly right into my ear, as he tightened his arms around me. I closed my eyes again, relaxing against his hard body, satisfied with his answer.
Damon had always been a good dancer, a great dancer, but in the past, lacked the confidence to dance in public. But there on that dancefloor, he fully proved his confidence issues were a thing of the past as he moved seductively in perfect rhythm with the song.
When he leaned in and nuzzled my neck, I sighed. When he began to suckle on it, I reached up, rested my hand on the back of his head, and rolled my hips harder. When he spun me around and pulled me to him, I rested my head on his chest and looped my arms around him. And when he stopped and seized my mouth with his, I melted right there on that dancefloor.
I turned my back to him again, my heart thumping in my chest. We were in public for all to see. I was engaged to another man who had a reputation to protect, I’d just kissed a man I’d sworn I had no feelings for in my sisters’ presence, and I…didn’t care. At all. I was lost in the moment, warmed by his body pressing against the back of mine. I fit perfectly against him. We were perfect, made for each other. If I’d never known that before, I was sure of it at that moment.
I loved Damon Davis from the depths of my soul. I truly did.
Our dance became more than a dance. There, fully clothed under the pulsing purple lights on the dancefloor in Club Indigo, Damon and I made love to that song. What we shared that night rivaled all the other intimate moments we’d shared over the years.
The song ended, and so did whatever trance I’d slipped into. We stood there and stared at each other as another song began to play. In his eyes, I saw love and longing, regret and desire…not to mention lust, a whole lot of lust. So much lust, I had to fight not to drop to my knees before him and unbuckle his pants and suck him into amnesia without regard for us being in a public place. When he opened his mouth
, I panicked, afraid to hear what he had to say or what I’d do in response to it, so I turned and damn near ran to my table on unsteady legs to find that both Zo and Ryan had joined us. But I couldn’t address that, all I could do was blink back tears, grab my clutch from the table, and say, “I’m ready to go.”
16
The church was nice—small, old, but well-kept. Low key, just like I remembered it. The first time I stepped foot in that church was years ago, high school, when I sat right by Nicky’s side at her grandmother, Ms. Hannah’s, funeral. Today was my second visit to True Vine.
I sighed as I tore my eyes away from the altar where the preacher was softly talking to Nicky and Travis. The entire wedding party had run through the ceremony twice, the rehearsal was drawing to a close, and several people had already left. Most people had left, but I couldn’t leave because I was finally hit with the realization that Nicky was actually going through with this shit. The love of my life was marrying another man. How the fuck did things go this far? How the fuck did I let them get this far?
I was paralyzed with a feeling I couldn’t describe. As bad as I wanted to leave, burning rubber and screeching tires, I couldn’t move. I just couldn’t move.
I felt so damn helpless in that moment. As long as we were having sex, I felt I had a little control over the situation, but now? I felt powerless.
Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have cut things off with her. That thought was followed by a whole textbook full of stupid, panicked notions. I needed to unglue my ass from that pew and jet.
“Hey.” A soft voice startled me and I shifted my eyes from Nicky, who I didn’t even realize I was staring at again, to see Angie dropping onto the pew beside me.
I swallowed, offered the woman who’d always been as much my sister as she was Nicky’s a smile, and said, “Hey. Still here?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Nay had to get back home to feed Little Zo, so I’m hanging around to take Nicky home. She and Nay came here together since Nicky is staying at her and Zo’s place until the wedding.”
Be with Me (Strickland Sisters Book 3) Page 8
