“Why the fuck you care what Tuck gives me?”
Jovanis jumped off the car, standing in front of him. “Why I care? I asked you a simple question. Why you trying to throw me off with more questions, nigga? You must be fucking him.”
His eyes gawked before looking around to make sure no one heard what he’d said. It was at that moment that Jovanis had gotten his confirmation. Tuck didn’t give gifts if he didn’t care. He’d throw money in the air, present opportunities to get money, but he rarely gave gifts to people.
“Bruh, I ain't gay. Fuck I look like fucking with a man? I like pussy only. The fuck is you saying,” Jakai huffed, nostrils flaring. “Don't ever disrespect me like that.”
Jovanis chuckled in disbelief. Jakai’s reaction was one of a typical down low nigga. He knew because that used to be his favorite line to use.
“Yeah, a’ight.”
Jovanis got inside his car and drove off. While driving, he dialed Tuck’s burner phone. When he didn’t answer, he smashed his fist against the steering wheel.
“Fuck!”
Jovanis was livid. He foolishly thought he was Tuck’s only one. To know that he had made his rounds through TLM left him sick. Jovanis assumed their bond was one that belonged to only them. Tuck made it seem as if he didn’t dabble with men often. He’d lied and Jovanis was sick.
“Lying-ass nigga!”
He needed to talk to his person. Irish would know what to say. He was ready to lay it all out on the table; reveal who his true love was so that they didn’t have any more secrets between them. When he called and got the voicemail, he threw his phone against the dashboard. A large dent surfaced, instantly making Jovanis regret his tantrum.
“Got damn. Why I do that?” he groaned.
That was a loaded question. One that wasn’t only for the dented dashboard but for him as well. Why did he have to fall in love with Tuck? Why was he gay? Why couldn’t he be attracted to women like normal men? Jovanis hated this position he was in and a part of him loathed himself. It had been years since he’d come to terms with his sexuality. No matter how many women he’d forced himself to be with or the love he found in Tuck, Jovanis still struggled, internally.
He envied so many men that lived out loud. They were comfortable in their sexual orientation and dared anyone toshame them. Yet, Jovanis had been running from what was a part of him. He’d been hiding his essence for so long that actually coming out provoked a fear that he couldn’t part ways with. Still, he was tired of this. The hiding, back and forth, and now heartbreak. Tuck had fucked him over, and Jovanis didn’t think he would ever be the same after this.
Pure perfection.
That’s what Irish thought as she sat across from Noble. It was nighttime as they sat in their sanctuary after being served from the private chef. Beyonce’sBe With Youplayed softly from the Bluetooth speaker. The view was magical as the moon reflected against the subtle ocean waves. If Irish could’ve stayed there forever, she would’ve signed the lease, immediately. Her life was in so much disarray but in Noble’s presence, her worries ceased.
He donned a pinstriped Prada collar shirt that was unbuttoned, showcasing his single diamond chain and his inky milk chocolate skin. Noble’s haircut was immaculately trimmed along with his closely shaven beard. She watched him as he sipped on his drink and tapped on his phone. Despite them being on an island, Noble never parted ways with the device.
“I feel so neglected right now.” She sighed, dramatically.
His molten chocolate orbs met hers, immediately causing her to laugh. “Why you gotta be extra?”
“Because I’ve been watching you tap on your phone instead of enjoying your company. I know you didn’t kidnap me to ignore me.”
“Ignore you? I’ve been up your ass all day. Literally.”
Irish’s body shuddered, remembering how Noble had fucked her in the open shower earlier after they came back from snorkeling.
“Yeah, but I need more attention.”
Noble bobbed his head, sliding his phone in his pocket. Resting his forearms on the table, he leaned in a bit.
“How come you haven’t been drinking?”
Irish was stunned by his question. Shifting in her seat, she cleared her throat before she responded, “What do you mean?”
“You ain't been drinking,” he reiterated. “When I made you a drink, you sat it on the table but didn’t drink it. When we did a toast last night, you acted like you took a sip, but you didn’t. So, tell me what’s up, Pumpkin. You going through something?”
Irish hated how observant Noble was. She was indeed not drinking and acting like she had been taking sips. Inhaling a deep breath, she gazed at the table.
“You pregnant?”
Her gaze shot up to meet his amused one.
