“Good,” I said, satisfied, pushing the front door open. “Now get inside. Oh… and keep that Savage Classy whatever-the-fuck in the bag; it might still have the receipt in it.”
This shit right here? Nah.
I didn’t drive four damn hours to walk into another nigga in my space? Possibly fuckin’ my ex? Ex-fiancée at that. Hell no. That’s not gonna fly. I’m liable to tell Chesteria I don’t give a damn about a contract, a schedule, or a rotation; hell, this is my shit too. I will say this: if that nigga steps wrong, breathes wrong, or touches anything that belongs to me tonight—probably Chesteria included—I’m ending the night early… and violently.
Chapter seven
Chesteria
“Cold Air, Hot Truths: A Porch Talk That Hit Harder Than Expected”
Ipower-walked to the bathroom, racing my dignity to safety, my heart pounding in my chest.
As I closed the door behind me, I leaned back against it, pressing my palms against the cool wood to ground myself. I stared into the mirror, desperately willing it to glitch and offer sage advice like a wise old confidant from a fairytale. I waited for it to provide me with a sign, an escape route, or at least a distraction…hell, anything. But it just stood there, quiet and shiny, reflecting a woman who was absolutely not ready to stay the night in a cabin with her unresolved feelings and fine-ass ex.
What the hell just happened?
Bryce? Here? Looking like that?
Don’t get me wrong, Bryce had always been undeniably attractive and had a nice body, but seeing him that day, it was asif God had put him through a second puberty, then added extra sexiness for no reason. His chest was thicker and his arms were thick and veined in a way that looked almost sinful.
“God… why? Out of all weekends, he chose this one to forget his month?” I muttered, feeling a stress headache begin to brew. “Seriously? God, you really just gon’ throw me in the same house with the man who had me crying in the dark while ‘Weak’ by SWV played in the background?”
Silence echoed back; the kind that felt like a cruel joke.
“Mm-hmm. So you just gon’ watch me drown, huh?” I sighed dramatically and shook my head, as if that would shake off the mounting anxiety. “I gotta call Klarissa.”
I cracked the bathroom door and peeked, adopting the stealth of a teenager preparing to sneak out of the house without getting caught. I crept out the bathroom, tiptoed through the kitchen like it was a minefield, and slipped out onto the back deck. The cold air didn’t just meet my skin; it cut through my clothes, settled into my scalp, made my jaw tighten on instinct, and made me instantly regret not grabbing a thicker coat… but I welcomed it. I needed to chill my thoughts.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my phone and Facetimed Klarissa. The phone barely rang twice before chaos erupted on the other end.
“Put that down, Jaylen! I said put it—put it down! I’m not gon’ tell you again!” Klarissa's voice yelled from a distance.
There was a moment of muffled scuffling, then her voice softened instantly, transforming from panicked mom mode to my best friend mode.
“Hey, boo! How’s the trip coming along? Have you and Adrian done the grown-up hokey pokey yet?” She giggled, her contagious laughter a brief reprieve. “Did he bring the wine and the dick or just one of the two?”
I sucked my teeth. “Klarissa, I got bigger problems than who brought the dick or wine.”
“Ouuu... how much bigger?” she asked, immediately suspicious.
“Try… Bryce showed up bigger.”
Klarissa fell silent for a moment, stunned. Then, “Whaaaaaaaat?! Chess, get the fuck outta here, girl! Wait… why is he there? This is your month.”
“Exactly! He claims he thought it was his.”
“Chess, give me two minutes. I need to throw these damn kids in the bed ‘cause I need to hear all this tea, in HD, commercial free!”
I chuckled and leaned against the deck railing. The cold had dusted it with a faint frost, but it wasn’t just the temperature making me shiver. My arms prickled, and my legs jittered with a nervous energy that had nothing to do with the wind. I needed to vent… bad. If Klarissa took too long, I was gonna start confessing to the damn patio furniture.
Two minutes—and several hurried shouts from Klarissa later—she came back on the line like she had never left.
“Okay, I’m back! Kids in bed, bonnet on, wine in hand! Now, start from the top! But don’t talk fast! I want it slow, dramatic, and messy! But first, is he staying there, or was this a drive-by fine alert?”
“Oh, he’s staying… brought luggage and handsomeness that I didn’t see coming. But that’s not even the kicker.”
“Oh, God. What?”
