by Nia Arthurs
Brett opens his mouth to say something.
I whirl around and slap the guy.
My flesh smashes against his cheekbone.
I hear a crack.
My hand or his face?
He stumbles, dabbing his lip with the back of his hand.
“I’ll consider that my apology,” I spit.
He groans, still hunched over and nursing his lip.
Whirling around, I storm past the guy, past Brett, past everyone and hightail it for the door. My hand pounds like it has its own heartbeat. I cradle the injured limb to me and keep my head down as I run away.
Brett’s loping stride catches up to me. “Hey, Tierra. Wait.”
I ignore him.
Out.
I just have to get out.
This is so embarrassing.
“Tierra!” Brett follows me all the way outside.
It’s quieter.
I can hear his footsteps thumping behind me.
Soon, he’s in front of me, his massive body blocking my way.
“Move,” I snap.
He holds up both hands. “Hey, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
He scowls. “Is that how women say thank you nowadays?”
“Look, I…” My tongue darts out to swipe against my lip. “I’m just embarrassed.”
“And hurt.” He reaches out slowly. Takes my hand. Brushes his thumb over my wrist.
His touch sends a tremble down my spine.
It’s so weird seeing his pale thumb against my dark skin.
So… strange.
But it feels right too.
I jerk my hand away and hiss in pain.
He winces. “You should get ice on that.”
“You should know right? Given how many fights you’ve started today.”
His lips twitch. “You saw me and John at the funeral.”
I shrug.
“Come on.” He cups my uninjured hand in his. “I’ll take you home.”
“It’s fine. I—”
“Tierra.” His voice is firm. So is his gaze.
I hesitate. “You were drinking.”
“I’m sober now.”
I bite down on my bottom lip.
He sighs. “We’ll walk for a while then. Happy?”
“Would you care if I wasn’t?”
He lowers his head and smiles. “You always have a comeback, don’t you?”
“Actually, I have a question.” I peer at him. “Why did you follow me?”
He goes quiet.
I arch an eyebrow. “Brett?”
“I saw a pharmacy around the corner on our way here,” he says, totally ignoring my question.
Before I can protest, he leads me down the street.
Moonlight spills over his strong back. His thick brown hair. His square jaw.
Far away from the club, the drinking and the lights, I glimpse the tired man who just buried his little sister.
My heart softens.
I squeeze his hand tightly and follow him into the night.
Six
Brett
“Remind me not to get on your bad side.” I press the ice pack against Tierra’s hand. Her dark skin is turning purple and it’s swelling too.
“You’re already on my bad side,” she mumbles, squirming in pain.
I smirk. “Is that any way to treat your knight in shining armor?”
As expected, she snaps her eyes on me. “A knight? Where?” She looks me up and down. “I don’t see him.”
“You really know how to hurt a man, don’t you.”
“Watch it.” She lifts her uninjured palm. “This hand’s still working.”
I laugh.
She shakes her head, a small smile flirting with her lips. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“For helping me with that guy,” she murmurs. “For helping me now.”
“Wow. Genuine appreciation?”
She swats at me. “See, that’s why I didn’t want to say anything. Your ego is too big.” She tilts her head to the left. Then the right. “I can’t see past it.”
“It’s probably still smaller than the swelling on that guy’s face.”
She winces. "I did hear something crack.”
“You’re lucky he didn’t press charges.”
“Hopefully, we don’t run into each other on the street.” She chuckles.
The sound fills me up.
Makes me feel light.
Charging after Tierra to take her home was the best decision I could have made tonight. Apart from the fact that I got to free her from that pervert in the club, being with her—just hanging out like this—is already giving me the kind of buzz I was searching for in the bottom of that liquor bottle.
There’s something so warm about her.
So… frothy.
Like cool whip on a hot day.
Like the perfect salve to an oozing wound.
She’s different from the women I usually go for.
Maybe that’s the point.
With other women, it’s all about seeing how fast I can get them naked.
With Tierra, it’s… more.
Sweeter.
“You don’t get out much, do you?” I ask, moving the ice pack to another part of her hand.
“Why do I feel insulted by that question?”
I chuckle. “I just meant…”
“That I’m not as ‘cool’ as you because I don’t drink myself into a stupor and dance on strangers to a genre of music that sounds like mush?”
I lean back and balance a hand on my knee. “Whoa. Let’s not insult EDM. It’s the music of the gods.”
“The god of torture, maybe,” she mutters.
“I’m guessing you're a jazz fan.”
She huffs. “Wrong.”
“Hip-hop?”
“Now you’re just stereotyping.”
I move the ice pack again. “I’m a fan of hip-hop.”
“Well, here’s your honorary black card.”
I laugh.
She smirks. “For your information, I like country.”
“God Bless The Broken Road?”
“I prefer Carrie Underwood.”
“Jesus Take the Wheel.”
She snorts. “Before He Cheats.”
“I don’t know that one.”
“She talks about slashing her ex’s tires.”
My body stiffens, but I force my voice to remain even. “How violent.”
“It spoke to me.”
“I wouldn’t want to meet any of your exes.”
“Yeah, well, let’s just say I keep my enemies close and my exes even closer.”
“I’m intrigued.”
“We’re not there yet, McQueen.”
“And now I have to know.”
She shakes her head to hide her own smile. Her eyes fall on my knuckles and the grin fades, replaced with concern. Reaching out slowly, she runs her fingertips over my bruised flesh.
Her touch is whisper-soft.
Almost… hesitant.
I dig my fingers tightly into the ice bag.
My pulse quickens.
What is it about her that makes me feel this way?
Is it because Shar sent her? Is that messing with me?
My dead sister shoved a mysterious woman my way and now my heart can’t stop racing when she touches me. Sounds complicated.
I don’t do complicated.
A night of fun, hell yeah.
I can picture it already.
Unzipping Tierra’s black dress.
Watching it peel away. Fall lightly to the floor at her feet.
Setting her on the bed.
Parting her thighs.
Hearing my name quiver from her lips.
Making her groan in pain and pleasure.
All of that.
But this… fluttering feeling? This magnetic soul shift?
That needs to stay the hell away from me.
>
Pulling my hand back, I stand to my full height. “The swelling’s gone down a little.”
“I think so.” She turns her hand back and forth.
“I’ll bandage it.”
“No need.” She hops off the bench and grabs her purse. “I think I can take it from here.”
“Have you forgotten that I’m dropping you home?”
“We just met.”
“So?”
“You think I’ll show you where I live?” She arches an eyebrow.
“I’m not doing this for my sake.”
“Oh, really?” Her lips twitch.
“Some poor, clueless guy might meet you on the street and try to dance with you. Then you’ll karate chop him and mess up your other hand, but guess what?”
“What?”
I lean in. “I won’t be there to ice you down.”
“Oh, the horror.”
“Let’s skip the arguing and jump to the part where we take a walk and then you get into my car, hm?”
Her eyes glimmer in the harsh fluorescent lights. “Women don’t say no to you, do they?”
“My offers aren’t refused.”
“I want to be the first,” she says, tipping her chin up in challenge.
My fingers wrap around her wrist and I tug her up. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities in the future.” Tierra stumbles to her feet and loses her balance. I grab her by the waist and pull her flush against me. “For tonight, just say ‘yes’.”
I watch her, falling a little more under her spell.
Thick eyelashes flutter closed. Open. Closed again.
Dark hair in a strict bun.
Warm brown skin.
Thick lips just begging to be sucked. To be bitten.
My body roars to life.
All my engines rev.
I know how to show her a good time.
I know how to make her scream.
Gasp.
Pant.
I want that.
Need that.
She eases back, her voice low. “We’re still talking about a ride home, right?”
Our eyes meet.
Hold.
A thumping sound draws my gaze away from Tierra. There’s an elderly white lady peeking at us from behind the mints. She jerks away when she sees that we’ve noticed her and quickly dives to pick up her box of candies.
Tierra seizes the opportunity to break out of my embrace. Though her skin is too dark for me to see if she’s blushing, I can tell that she’s flustered in other ways. Her chest heaves and her fingers dig into that purse strap again.
I’m starting to read her and, for some reason, that pleases me.
“We should go,” Tierra says quickly.
I grab our things and toss them in the trash on our way out.
The grandmother meets us at the door and stops us with a small, “Excuse me.”
I freeze.
Tierra glances over her shoulder.
The woman licks her lips. “I just want you to know that I wasn’t staring because I’m racist.”
My eyebrows knit.
Tierra sucks her lips in and meets my gaze, visibly trying not to laugh.
“I know we still have some idiots running around from my time, but I have no problem with black people and white people sleeping together.” She jerks her chin down. “None at all.”
“Actually,” I slip my hand around Tierra’s shoulder, “she’s my wife.”
“You’re married?”
“Three months now,” Tierra says, playing along.
“Your parents must be… er… proud.”
“They’re ecstatic.”
The woman clears her throat. “You two have a good night.”
I watch her shuffle away.
Tierra snorts. “Did you have to go so hard on her?”
“Felt right.” I lead her out of the store.
“Have you ever dated anyone outside your race?” Tierra asks. “Given your thing for blondes?”
I smirk. There’s no way she’s letting me live that one down.
“No.”
“Hm…”
“I don’t think about women in terms of race. I just like what I like.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” She shrugs.
We walk back to the car.
Get in.
I turn the radio to an oldies country station.
Tierra grins. “I’m going to sing your ears off.”
“Go for it.”
I end up laughing all the way to her place as she, unashamedly, croons along to whatever sob story is twanging from the speakers.
“We’re almost there,” she says, twenty minutes later.
Disappointment slams my chest.
Damn.
I really don’t want to let her go.
I’m just about to suggest we stop somewhere else for dinner when Tierra lets loose a soft, frantic curse.
I glance in the direction she’s staring in and notice a couple standing in front of a small bungalow. The woman has long brown hair, light brown skin and is dressed in a tight, red jumpsuit that clings to her figure. She’s throwing her hands up and pointing in the face of a broad-shouldered man in a white vest and jeans.
“You know them?” I ask Tierra nervously, wondering if we should call the cops.
“That’s my sister.”
I frown. “And her boyfriend?”
Tierra falls quiet.
“Your boyfriend?” I prod gently. My heart clenches and I realize I’m more distressed by the thought than I should be.
“That’s my sister’s boyfriend.” She chews on her bottom lip. “And my ex.”
Seven
Tierra
Brett pulls his fancy SUV to a stop on the curb, boldly staring as my sister and Anthony do their best ‘welcome to the ghetto’ routine for him.
I unhook my seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride.”
“You need some help?” In the dimness, his silver eyes beam like twin moons. “Back-up?”
“I’ve got it,” I assure him.
His lips flatten into a thin line.
“Seriously,” I insist. The last thing I want is for Brett to storm out of this car and witness more of the drama that is my personal life. I pop the door open. “I’ll call you.”
“You have my number?”
“Got it from your sister.” I jump to the sidewalk. Toss my business card through the window. “Here’s mine.”
Brett picks up the card.
I wave and hurry away.
Kenesha’s so caught up in her argument that she barely registers Brett’s vehicle coming or going. As he drives off—unwillingly, I’m sure—I hurry to her side.
“I told you not to do it,” my sister shrieks. “And you still went ahead. Do you even respect me?”
“Baby, listen. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“Bull!”
I clear my throat. “Kenesha?”
“T!” Kenesha slams her heated gaze my way. “You mind if I stay here tonight?”
“Of course not.”
My sister flings her long, black hair over her shoulder and arches an eyebrow at Anthony.
Although I’m four years younger than her, most people assume I’m the oldest. I used to be insulted by those comments, but now I understand that they were talking about the difference in our maturity and not our looks.
Though, to be honest, we don’t look like sisters at all. Kenesha is, undoubtedly, the ‘prettier’ of the two of us.
She has long, black hair that’s real and that she takes care of like it’s a baby. Her skin is a shade lighter than mine—coffee with lots of cream. Big brown eyes. Thick lips. And the stereotypical ‘black’ body, complete with tiny waist, wide hips and a juicy behind.
Men fall all over themselves whenever she’s around.
Doesn’t matter who. They just immediately go crazy.
Preachers.
Doctors.
Random men on the street.
My boyfriend.
Anthony turns to me, his brown eyes wild and frantic. “Talk some sense into her, T. Tell her to come home.”
I force a smile while, inside, my heart scrapes against a metal grater and slinks into shreds.
My sister and my ex have been dating for two years. We’re one big happy family, always hanging out together and pretending that everything’s okay.
But it’s not okay for me.
It never gets easier seeing them together.
Especially when they keep dragging me into their mess.
“What’s the problem?” I ask calmly, forcing away my personal feelings.
Right now, I’m not Tierra the pathetic woman who lost her man to her sister.
I’m not Tierra the chump.
I’m Tierra the matchmaker.
I’m in control.
I’m good at that. Putting people together.
Seeing where they fit.
It’s who I am.
What I do well.
The only thing I do well.
“He keeps staying out late at night and calling it ‘working’,” Kenesha shrieks.
Anthony huffs. “I am working!”
“Like I'm stupid? Who works until two AM?”
I hold up a hand to quiet my sister. “Anthony, I thought you got a new job?”
“I did. Double the pay. Enough to handle all her little shopping sprees.” He gestures to my sister, a disgusted look on his handsome face. “But she still gotta argue ‘bout something.”
“Why are you staying out late?” I ask.
His eyes dart down. “I’m not cheating.”
"Nobody said you were cheating, Anthony.”
“I said it.” Kenesha thumps her chest and bounces on the balls of her feet. “Me.”
“I didn’t cheat. I would never cheat on you.” Anthony stares at my sister like she hangs the moon. Like the very thought of being without her makes him violently sick.
My heart falters for a moment.
This isn’t about you, Tierra.
I inhale another deep breath. Dig my fingers into my purse.
“You haven’t answered my question, Anthony.” I stare him down. “What are you doing until late at night?”
“It’s not cheating,” Anthony says again. “But…”
“But?”
“My bosses keep inviting me to go drinking with them.”
“So?”
“So, I gotta go. If I don’t…”
Understanding dawns. “You’re trying to stay in their good graces.”
