Page 87 of The Sweetest Devotion

“You ever been in a relationship?” I asked curiously.

A sudden sadness washed over Eden as she nodded. “Not any good ones. But, you know, I still have faith. You can’t write off the world, not when you gotta live in it.”

I envied her just then, her drive to push forward despite any battle she’d faced.

“How old are you?” I had to know.

She loosened up, moving some hair out of her face. “Twenty-three.”

Not a chance.

The lie made me chuckle as I finally walked around her. As I made it to the front door, I faced her once more. “Maybe aim a little lower next time.”

Eden frowned. “Twenty?”

I laughed, that sounded more believable yet still too old. “See you around, Eden.”

Love is gray.

To be young and full of optimism.

When I got home, despite the hour, I cracked open a beer and stood in my living room, racking my brain on my next move.

The sound of my phone ringing caught my attention and I welcomed the distraction of a phone call from my mother.

“Hey, Mom,” I said as I picked up her call.

“Hey, baby,” my mother responded. “Listen, when’s your next day off?”

“Wednesday, why?”

“Perfect. Momma and I were thinking of having you over for dinner. So, how about it?”

Dinner sounded good, but then…

The image of Kennedy came to mind, of her in just my T-shirt, ever too eager to come do yard work with me. I couldn’t wrap my head around why she would want to, or whyIwanted to see her do it. I couldn’t imagine Little Miss Priss willingly getting down and dirty to work. I should’ve blown her off, this wasn’t a part of our arrangement, but fuck it if curiosity wasn’t guiding me into pure stupidity.

“Uh,” I let out as I got back to my mother. “I actually got plans to do some stuff around the house and get my yard work done. I’ll probably be too tired to come through, but we definitely can pin down a dinner at some point.”

“Ah, well, okay,” my mother sounded disappointed. “Let me know the next time you’re free. It’s been too long, Keith.”

I ran my hand over my waves, hanging my head in shame. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. We’ll get together, I promise.”

We hung up and I set my beer down on the coaster on my coffee table.

I needed not to think of a certain woman. “Alexa, play hip-hop and R&B.”

A chime went off and Alexa obliged me by playing some music.

The instrumental was foreign to me, but before long I didn’t have to guess whose song was playing when I heard her voice.

Beyoncé.

Grimacing, I barked out. “Play hip-hop.”

Jadakiss filled the room as a new song came on.

Needing a distraction, I went and gathered laundry and brought it out to my living room to sort for the wash. I got lost in the task as hip-hop played around me.

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