“You’re just saying that because I fuck you,” I mumbled, swatting at his chest but not really moving away. “You’re a chef. You deal with presentation all day. You know aesthetics matter. And I was not aesthetically prepared.”
I stepped back and gestured again. “Look at me, Zio. I’m drunk. I’m agitated. My eyeliner is probably uneven. I’m going to say something unhinged to one of your friends about capitalism or open marriages or seasoning. I don’t know. I’m a liability. Just leave me here. Leave me in my misery, I beg.” My voice cracked at the end, less theatrics now, more truth leaking through.
He just smiled and hooked his arm through mine. He grabbed my bag and guided me toward the door. I was stumbling slightly, my heels catching on the rug. I was tipsy, I was frustrated, and beneath all of it, I was terrified of being seen in the light he was trying to drag me into.
“I hate you,” I muttered as we left the house and headed to the elevator. Zio just smiled wider, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “I love you too. Now watch your step,” he said, pulling me into the elevator.
Chapter six
Still February Second
Sky
The air in the beach house didn’t just smell like sea salt; it was a heavy blend of expensive Jo Malone candles and the scent of people who didn’t have to check their bank balances. I was clutching Zio’s arm like it was a life raft, my shoes clicking a rhythm on the marble floor that sounded entirely too loud, even over Drake rapping through the surround sound. I was freaking out on the inside, but I kept my face composed—the quick shot of brown liquor I grabbed at the corner store on the way there had finally calmed my nerves a little. Dealing with February was turning me into a lush.
“Breathe, Sky,” Zio whispered, his hand sliding down to squeeze mine.
We were in a sea of beautiful Black people, so my eyes naturally got stuck on the large white man standing near the terrace.
“That’s Ivy’s husband,” Zio whispered. “She was married to Xavier’s best friend—Demetrius. They were together forever. Until he wanted an open relationship.”
I raised my brows, the gossip cutting through my buzz. “And she said no?”
“She didn’t say no. She said fuck you and goodbye.”
My eyes flicked back to them. Xavier was huge—a mountain of a man with tanned skin, dressed in khakis and a white polo. I couldn’t believe this was the guy everyone said went to an HBCU. People talked about him like he was a cool-ass Black man, and seeing him there, I got it. The vibe was effortless. Some people could just fit in anywhere.
Zio kept talking. “Xavier didn’t wait a second. He’d liked her since they were in school, and he went after her with no shame, so it was a whole scandal in our friend group for a while. But nobody talks about it anymore. They have two kids. Demetrius still comes around sometimes, says he’s still friends with them.”
I grimaced, thinking of my own heart. “Couldn’t be me.”
Zio hummed, his eyes scanning the room. “Come on. Let me introduce you.”
We wove through the crowd. Ivy was dressed more casually than I expected, in a black wrap dress and Valentino slides, but she looked every bit the queen of the manor.
“There he is,” she said, pulling Zio into a quick hug before turning to me. “And you must be Sky.”
“Yes,” I said, suddenly aware of my posture. I straightened up, letting go of Zio’s arm so I didn’t look like a koala. “You must be Ivy.”
She looked me over, her eyes lingering for a second. Then she grinned. “You’re really pretty.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the genuine compliment. “Thank you. You too.”
I had to crane my neck to look up at her husband. “Good to finally meet you,” Xavier said. “We’ve heard a lot.”
“Only good things,” Ivy added with a wink.
Zio’s hand found the small of my back, his thumb tracing a slow circle. “I told them the bad things too,” he joked.
I faked a laugh, cutting my eyes at him. I could only imagine he’d told them about my fear of commitment and made himself out to be the victim. We talked for a minute before a group of newcomers called them away.
“We’re gonna let y’all mingle. Catch up in a minute,” Ivy said.
They drifted off, and suddenly Zio became the sun that everyone else was orbiting.
“Hey, Zio!”
Too many women started talking to him. Beautiful women with perfectly laid edges and luxury purses. They were touching his arm, laughing at jokes that weren’t that damn funny, and looking at him in a way that made me want to beat their asses. I knew the math—Zio had been a full-time chef for years, and every spare hour he had, he spent in my bed. He didn’t have time for other women. But watching this, I couldn’t help but wonder… was this who he had been before me?
