This was the part nobody warned you about. Not the falling, not the wanting — but the after. When everything you’d been holding gets set down, and you finally feel how heavy it was. Something had shifted. I felt it, and I didn't fight it.
“Come on,” I said softly, sliding off the table. We didn’t speak again until we’d showered and crawled into bed. He called the housekeeper to clean up. By the time she came, See No Evil was playing, and the dining room looked brand new.
He ran his hands through my scalp as I turned to him with a smile.
“I spent every second in St. Louis thinking about that moment. About how I’d rather be home with you. I made them niggas pay for taking me from you.”
“I was being a brat too,” I admitted.
“I should’ve called and shit, but I was tryna get my feelings about you together. I wanted to be sure that I was ready for this.”
“I need reassurances.”
“I can’t promise I’ll never leave,” he said. “But I can promise you’ll know why. And when I come back, it’ll always be to you.”
I searched his face and found what I was looking for. I settled against him, my breathing evening out, and let myself believe him for the first time.
I felt his lips on my hair as I drifted off to sleep.
The smell of food woke me, but it wasn’t hers. Coco only ordered breakfast when her day was too packed to breathe, when her schedule ran her instead of the other way around. It was the first clue that she had a full plate today. Usually, she’d be in the kitchen before sunrise, robe tied loose around her waist, humming something low and sweet while she made my world right with her hands.
Today, I opened my eyes to find her in a black silk teddy that moved with her, phone pressed to her ear, her hair slicked back into a ponytail so clean and sharp it could cut glass.
The ponytail changed everything about her face. Made her cheekbones look like they were carved from marble, turning her into something untouchable and powerful —a queen handling kingdom business before the sun was fully up.
Last night had changed things between us. I'd woken up expecting awkwardness, some distance while we figured outwhat crossing that line meant. Instead, I just wanted to be closer to her. She was moving through her morning routine, all business and efficiency, but I could still taste her on my lips. I could still feel the way she’d tightened around me while she whispered my name.
She was the drug.
And I was the addict.
That’s why I needed to be with her today. Not just because I’d promised to make things right, but because the thought of her moving through her world without me felt wrong. Like I was missing something essential.
“Good Morning, Callie,” she said without looking my way, voice crisp and professional. “Yes, twelve rose centerpieces. White roses, not cream. I need them delivered here by two o’clock, not two-fifteen.”
I stayed still, watching her work. Coco in motion was something to witness—efficient as clockwork, composed under pressure, commanding respect without raising her voice. She didn’t ask for space in this world; she claimed it, made it bend around her presence.
She moved around the penthouse, letting me know she’d made this place her home. Her bare feet were silent on the marble, gesturing with one hand while the phone stayed glued to her ear. The morning light streaming through those floor-to-ceiling windows caught on her skin, making her glow as if she were lit from within.
I sat up slowly, running a hand over my face, trying to shake off the sleep and the way seeing her made my dick jump. “Good morning, Co. You didn’t cook this morning, did you?”
She finally turned to look at me, phone still pressed to her ear, and that ponytail caught the light like black silk. Something about seeing her hair pulled back like that made me want tomess it up, see it falling around her shoulders the way it did when she let her guard down.
“Hold on,” she said into the phone, then muted it. “I ordered instead. Busy morning, my love. Don’t get all spoiled on me.”
“I can see that.” I let my mouth curve into a slow smile. “I like you in a slick back ponytail. That’s a good look for you.”
Her free hand instinctively reached out to touch it, as if to check that it was still perfect. “You love me in a ponytail, huh?”
“Because you kill it every time,” I said, my voice rougher than it should’ve been this early in the morning. “That’s the look that’s gonna have me thinking about you all day.”
Her eyes softened for just a second, vulnerability flickering across her features before she caught herself and slipped back into business mode. While she continued to run the show, I ran through my morning routine.
Within ten minutes, we moved to the kitchen together, stepping in sync. She was still on the phone while I settled at the island, my body still adjusting to being up this early with a busy woman running around on shots of espresso.
She muted the phone and pointed toward the container on the counter. “Eat. I’ve got three stops before noon, and I can’t be late.”
“I will, but did you eat? You been moving since I opened my eyes.”
