“No,” I answer, shaking my head.
She sets down her lipstick and turns to face me, a smirk on her face as if she knows a secret. “So, you’re willing to walk away from him?”
I go to say yes but shut my mouth. “I mean… I like him.”
She places her hand on my shoulder. “Do you like him enough to fight for him?”
My mother raised my brother and me to fight for what you want, but you also can’t make someone love you. They either want you in their life or they don’t. You can’t keep what doesn’t belong to you. “What exactly am I fighting?” I ask, confused.
“Lucy. I know she would do anything to have him, however she could have him. Even if that meant being a side piece.”
“You’re saying he’s not the type to be faithful?”Is anyone?I’m not going to put Grave into a category with just men. Women cheat too. I’ve never done it because I’ve had it happen to me, and it hurt. I don’t understand why a man or woman can’t just be honest with the person they’re with and sayI don’t want to be with you anymore.
“No, you’re putting words in my mouth.” She sighs. “I’m just saying that you need to decide what you want. Either take it or let her have it.” She shrugs. “Because, honey, that choice is a hundred percent yours.”
She walks away and enters her closet. Grave doesn’t make me feel like I have to compete, or that there is a race I’m desperately trying to win. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I know Lucy still calls him. The question is, does he call her after he leaves me? And if he does, how would that make me feel? Pretty fucking pissed if I’m being honest with myself.
He’s supposed to be mine, right? We’ve only had one official date, but who has time to date anymore? I don’t need to get dressed up and go to an expensive dinner for someone to prove they like me. I just need quality time with them, and we’ve done that. Every chance we’ve gotten. I feel comfortable around him and can be myself. He’s saved me. He’s saved my dream. That means more than lobster and steak. The way his lips kiss mine makes me melt. The way he touches me sets me on fire. And I know I do the same to him. He can’t stop because he keeps coming back for more.
Is it just sex for him? I can’t answer that. Only he can. But he said he was staying around as long as I wanted him to.
I look at myself in the mirror and take a deep breath. I don’t want to share him. I want to be selfish.
Making up my mind, I pull my eyeliner out of my makeup bag and add more layers, top and bottom, then tease the crown of my hair to give it a little more volume.
“How’s this look?”
I turn to see Jasmine wearing a black crop top that hangs off one shoulder, revealing a black lace bra strap, along with denim shorts and fishnet tights. “Daaamn. I approve.” The woman is hot.
“You think?”
My gaze drops to her legs. “What happened to your knees?” I ask.
She growls. “I gave head last night. Fucked my knees all up.”
“On what? Gravel?”
She lets out a sigh. “That’s why I wore the fishnets. To hide them better. Are they that bad?”
I shake my head. “No. I just noticed the right one.” The left isn’t as bad. But you can see they’re bruised, and one has a pretty good cut. “I hope you got yours too,” I add.
She gives me a smile. “Oh, he delivered.” The smile drops off her face. “Then he went and fucked it all up.”
She drives usabout thirty minutes outside of Vegas. All I see is desert for most of the ride, but then sure enough, there’s an airport in the middle of nowhere. It looks like any busy airport on Thanksgiving break. Cars and trucks fill a large parking lot on the side. Jasmine drives into a parking garage and winds her way up the ramps to the sixth level. People walk around, getting on and off the elevators.
She finds a spot and pulls into it, shutting off the car. “Stay close to me,” she says.
“Is this place dangerous?” I suppose that’s a question I should have asked before we came. I would have packed Mace in my bag.
“It can get rowdy.” She reaches in front of me and pops open her glove box. My eyes widen as she grabs a knife, slams it shut, then reaches into the back seat and grabs her purse, slipping the knife inside of it.
We get out of the car, and a guy whistles at us as we walk by his truck.
“Hey, ladies.” I glance over to see him sitting on the tailgate with two of his friends. You can smell the weed they’re smoking. “Want a ride?” He grabs his crotch.
“Sorry, boys.” Jasmine throws her arm over my shoulders, pulling me into her side. “The only thing she’ll be riding is my face later.”
His eyes go round and one of his friends spits out his drink. “Can we watch?” he asks, hopeful.
