He chuckled, nervous and forced—one of those “ha-ha-nah-but-yeah” kind of laughs.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” he grinned. “What? You think I’m scared of yo’ ex?”
I paused briefly and looked at him long enough to make him blink twice before answering.
“No. I don’t think you’re scared of him.”
You probably should be, though.
I pulled out my pajamas and turned my back to him.
“But just curious… why didn’t you tell me y’all shared a cabin?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of irritation.
Adrian shifted slightly, reaching under the pillow behind him to adjust it, his movement casual but revealing an underlying tension.
I shrugged nonchalantly, trying to keep my tone light. “It was a need-to-know situation, and at the time, I didn’t think you needed to know," I answered politely as I could as I reached formy bonnet. Then added, “Besides, I didn’t know he’d show up here.”
“Well,” he said, tone light but laced with a bit of shade and anger, “do y’all share any other kinds of properties? Because next time we take a trip, I’d like a little heads-up so I can mentally prepare for somebody pulling a damn gun on me while I’m just trying to eat trail mix and sip orange juice in peace.”
I rolled my eyes internally, feeling the frustration bubble beneath the surface.
Another trip? Nigga, please! You better take mental pictures and frame 'em, ‘cause after this, we ain’t even sharingair, let alone numbers.
“We don’t,” I simply replied, tucking the pajama top under my arm as I took a step toward the door. “I’m going to shower. I’ll be back.”
“You could just come back naked,” Adrian suggested. “Let the steam work as foreplay; save us both time.”
I stopped mid-step and turned my head just enough to say, “Not tonight. I’m tired, and it’s been a long-ass day. Raincheck?”
He groaned dramatically and fell back on the bed.
“Damn. But aight. I’ma hold you to it. Don’t let me down… don’t lethimdown,” he added, glancing down at his own lap, a mischievous glint crinkling the corners of his eyes.
I didn’t even dignify that with a response.
As I exited the room, I muttered under my breath, “You won’t be getting none of this coochie this weekend. So I hope you packed patience, baby oil, and a good ass imagination, 'cause it’s just gon’ be you and your hand until further notice.”
I said that, but truthfully, I didn’t know how I was gon’ make it through the weekend without giving that nigga some pussy. God himself was gon’ have to grant me the kind of strength they write about inPsalms. It wasn’t so much because I was horny; it was the complete opposite. Adrian was very touchy and addictedto sex. And being alone with him for days, with no distractions—considering that Bryce and his lil' fling would be gone the next day—that was a spiritual test I wasn’t sure I was gonna pass.
I turned the corner toward the bathroom and almost collided with temptation.
Bryce.
He was returning from the deck. Bryce’s hoodie was slung over one shoulder, and the thin T-shirt clung to him like it had a personal crush on his pecs, leaving little to the imagination. His eyes had a low, sleepy quality that suggested peace, but behind them, a slow-burning fire still flickered.
"You good?” he asked, pausing mid-step, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that left me momentarily breathless.
I cleared my throat, straightening my posture to appear composed.
“Yeah. Just heading to the shower."
Bryce looked at me a second too long; the kind of long that made me feel like he was thinking things he shouldn’t be.
The way he was looking at me? If he had dared to ask to join me in the shower, I honestly think I would have said yes… but he didn’t.
Instead, he simply smirked—that damn infuriating smirk—and said, “Goodnight, Chess.”
“Goodnight, Bryce.”
