Though he had picked my kids up from school before, I hadn’t allowed him to hang out with them again because I wanted to protect them, especially after what happened between me and their father. But, as I stared up into his eyes, all of my reservations, worry, and stress, all of the responsibility that I was carrying softened all the way down to my bones. I could recognize the difference between a man who liked you and a man who was claiming you.
I nodded. “Okay.”
He stepped in close, slid his hand to my waist, and pulled me into him like he needed the contact. He kissed me slowly, then rested his forehead against mine.
“You and them kids are mine to protect. Not because I own you. Because I loveyou.”
My eyes burned again. I held onto him and let myself feel it, let myself believe it. For the first time in a long time, love didn’t feel like something I had to beg for or bargain for. It felt like something being placed in my hands on purpose.
TARIQ “REEK” HORTON
That night, Sienna invited me to her condo for dinner. I was caught off guard, because usually all we did was go to events where there were cameras and fucked afterwards. There was no pretending in her condo.
When I walked in, the first thing I noticed was the smell of spices and food. She had actually cooked. Sienna had on a sexy teddy. She wasn’t wearing any lashes, make up, or heels.
“You hungry?” she asked, already walking back toward the kitchen.
“I’m always hungry,” I said as I shrugged my jacket off and hanging it over the chair.
I followed her into the kitchen and watched her move around like this was regular for her to be this domestic for me.
I didn’t say that though. I just sat on the stool at the island and let her do her thing.
She slid a plate in front of me.
“You actin’ like somebody wife tonight.”
She shot me a playful look. “Shut up.”
I took a bite and was surprised. “This is good.”
“I know,” she replied, but her mouth twitched like she liked hearing it anyway.
We ate at the island instead of her dining table. She talked about random shit at first, something she watched, somebody she couldn’t stand.
Then she got quiet.
I looked up. “What?”
Sienna stared at her plate like she was deciding if she wanted to say it. Then she exhaled. “I really like that you treat me like I’m just a regular person, not my father’s daughter. I hate that most people talk to me like I’m a title, not a person.”
“That comes with the last name,” I told her.
“That’s the point. I don’t think I ever got to be a person first. I was always his daughter first. I grew up as the politician’s daughter. Everything was controlled; what I wore, what I said, what I posted, what I didn’t post, who I smiled at, who I ignored. I learned early how to be presentable.” She scoffed. “People always think that’s a privilege. Sometimes it is, but sometimes it just feels like you’re alwayson.”
I watched her while she spoke. It didn’t seem like she was fishing for sympathy. It looked like she was taking advantage of finally being able to vent.
Then she looked at me. “I like that you treat me like I’m just a regular girl.”
I lifted a brow. “That’s a strange compliment.”
“It’s not. Everybody else either puts me on a pedestal or tries to humble me. You don’t do either. You don’t care who my father is. You don’t care who’s watching. I like that.”
I leaned back a little. “You sure about that?”
“Yeah. You’re the only person that talks to me like I’m just Sienna. Not Langford’s daughter. Not ‘the PR girl.’ Just Sienna.”
I held her gaze, but in my head, me and her were still just business. Keeping her happy kept her dad in the Cartiers’pockets. Her good pussy and some fye ass pot roast wasn’t going to make me forget that this was an arrangement and I’m not the settling down type of nigga.
