Page 28 of Hard to Judge

“Love him?” She purses her swollen lips. “What I know of him, I love and want to know more. Right now, I think it’s your love reflecting off him that draws me in and the selfless and devilish person he is. Quite a conundrum.” She smiles. “I’m certain I can love him.”

“What about your walls?” I pull her to me now and tuck her under my chin. “As I recall, those bastards are high and fortified.”

“They’re rubble because of you,” she says against my chest.

“Seriously?” I lean her back to see her face.

“It was quite the invasion.” She smirks. “Only a couple of months since we met, and you all but moved me and Plink into your house.”

“Our house,” I correct. Her fingertips smooth over my mouth. “Say it.”

“Our house.” Her head shakes as though she can’t believe it.

“You still have your place if you ever want to leave me.”

“Never,” she hisses.

“Good.” I pull her in and kiss her mouth, loving my mark on her tongue.

When she sits back, her expression is pensive. I offer her my ear. “What about your walls?”

“You made me understand that loving is worth the risk.”

“But…?” she prods, as she does best.

“I hurt Hota deeply. I don’t know how he could ever forgive me.” The memories of that dark time cloud over the glorious day and the even more glorious love in my arms.

“You have to start by forgiving yourself.” She hugs me this time, wrapping her arms around my back and pulling me close. “You both have work to do. Hota needs to be more than just your guy. He needs to step into his own and stand up for what he wants. Something he hasn’t done in all the years you’ve known each other. He has to stand up for what he deserves.”

“What does he deserve?” I breathe.

“I told you once.” She leans in, and her lips brush my ear. “The best boy deserves everything.”

“Uh.”

I stare across at a baffled Astor. She blinks across at me as though seeing me for the first time. It was a hell of a first impression. Not in a good way, either. Her boyfriend was balls-deep in me from behind while my hands were braced on a toilet paper holder in a bathroom stall.

“Is that your professional opinion?” I wink.

She grabs the pillow by her hip on her perfect bright pink couch and tosses it at my head. I snag it from the air and hold it as a shield as she tosses one more and then another.

“What are you going to do now? You’re out of ammo.”

My psychologist-turned-bestie over many, many years, shoots up and rushes toward me. I hold up my pillow shield in defense. The blow never comes. When I lower my buffer, she’s sitting on the coffee table directly in front of me.

“Sex looks great on your complexion. You’re practically glowing.”

“Don’t.” She holds up one manicured finger between us. The soft pink look pops against her radiant black skin. “You’re not sidetracking me today.”

Astor is breathtakingly gorgeous. Her body is long and lean. Her smile, when I get it, is vibrant and warm. The amber flecks in her eyes sparkle. Her ex-boyfriend was a fuck nugget with shit for brains. Most of them have been, not that she’s dated much.

Nope, but that’s finally changing.

“I bet he was a ten out of ten,” I goad.

“Twenty out of ten and he hasn’t even touched me yet.” She waves her weaponized finger. “That’s beside the point.”

“And what is the point?” I bat my lashes as though I haven’t just dropped a bomb on her.

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