I nod. “So… continue.”
“After the meet-up with Ethan, I was heading home when some guy dragged me into an alley and tried… to…” My voice cracks. “To rape me.”
Tasha’s whole body goes still before she yanks me into a crushing hug. “Oh, my Ari… are you okay? I can’t believe you didn’t call me.” She pulls back, eyes sharp. “Are you sure Cyan didn’t set that up?”
“No, he didn’t.” I shake my head. “Cyan saved me. Ethan was right; Cyan was interested, so he’d been following me home.”
“I hope he killed the fucker.” I look away. “He did, didn’t he?”
“I neither confirm nor deny.”
“If he did, I approve.”
“Tasha, you are so bloodthirsty.”
“I have no mercy for men who get off on hurting women.” Her tone is pure steel. “What happened next?”
“He asked me to lunch. And… it escalated.”
Tasha squints. “Then why is my bullshit detector tingling?”Because I’ve twisted the truth.
“Look, Tasha… you know who Cyan is. So yes, there are things I can’t tell you. But I can honestly say he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Tasha exhales slowly. “Ari, if you like Cyan date him. Why get married so fast? Do you love him?”
The question hits me hard. Do I? The thought of him makes me smile. The feeling of safety when I’m in his arms. When did that happen? Despite everything, I know he’d never hurt me. “Yes,” I whisper. “I do, Tasha. I love him.”
Tasha gasps, staring at my face. “Oh my, you do!”
“Please, Tash… don’t do what my aunt did. Don’t shut me off.” That’s the real reason I avoided her calls. I can’t lose her too.
Her face softens. “Ari, relax. I meant what I said. You’re more than my best friend… you’re my sister. I’ll always have your back. Don’t stress; your aunt loves you. She’ll come around.”
Relief crashes through me as I hug her. When we pull apart, mischief lights her eyes.
“Now, I demand you tell me. What position did Cyan have you in to make you scream like that?”
Just like that, I have my best friend back.
Forty-Four
“Every queen needs a sword at her side. Mine swings a bat, curses like a sailor, and threatens mobsters before breakfast.”—Aria Boschett.
After Tasha and I finish talking, she follows me back to the bedroom. I need a shower; there’s no way I’m going to breakfast looking like someone’s well-fucked secret. When I come out, a towel wrapped around me, she’s already rifling through my closet like she owns the place.
“Girl, your man has style.” Her fingers glide over a row of dresses. “I know you don’t know designer prices, but Aria… I’ve never regretted us not being the same height more than I do right now.”
I blink. “It doesn’t look that expensive.”
With an abrupt turn, Tasha stares at me, scandalized. “You do not know, do you? That bra and underwear you’re wearing. La Perla. Minimum five hundred a set. You have two drawers full.”
“Really?” I blink again. “Cyan keeps ripping them off me.”
“Oh, I bet he does.” Her eyes twinkle. “Don’t think I missed the fact that you still haven’t told me what position your mobster had you screaming earlier.”
“Tasha!” My cheeks burn. I’m thrilled she’s here, but I’m not ready to confess that I let Cyan restrain me and liked it.
“Alright, fine.” She lifts her chin. “I’ll drop it… if you admit I was right.”
