Page 150 of Real's Love

"Whoa, now. I'ma need you to get your hands off her quickly."

Real's voice sounded a second before I felt him behind me. A strong arm encircled my waist, and I leaned into him. Tate frowned. He looked at us for a minute before speaking again.

"I don't see a ring on her finger or yours. I just want?—"

Real grabbed Tate's wrist and squeezed.

"I don't give a fuck what you see. I said move yo' hands and that's what I meant. Stop touching her before these people be recording me beating yo' ass," Real growled.

Wincing, Tate dropped my arm. Real released him, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. It stopped abruptly when Tate said my name again. I glared up at him.

"I'ma see you, Youngin'," he vowed lowly.

I felt Real's body shift and then start to move around me. His solid frame was tense, like he was ready to spring into action.

"Ay—" he started.

I grabbed his hand. I needed no help with this.

"I already explained shit to you. If you come near me again, I'll make a scene so bad, you won't even be able to get elected to the school board, much less the lieutenant governor's seat," I spat.

Tate stiffened, his light complexion going pale. I shook my head. Same ol' Tate. I laughed out loud.

"What's it like to be damn near thirty and living for other people's opinion?" I taunted.

This time he was quiet. But the damage had already been done. My light mood of minutes ago was gone. I apologized to Granny Nette before requesting that Real just take me home.

We showered separately,not how I imagined this night going, but I could tell that pussy ass pretty boy had put her in a mood. I was going to do my best to get her out of it, but the short version of their story that Theory had given me let me know it wasn't going to be easy. Dudes like Tate Thibadeau made it hard for everybody.

The soft sounds of her tentative steps snapped me out of my thoughts. I glanced up from the bed, where I’d been sprawled out, flipping through some old paperback I’d found on her nightstand. Love walked out, her hair damp, wrapped in nothing but a towel that clung to her like it was holding on for dear life. She looked... distant. Like she was here but not really here. Her eyes met mine for a split second before she looked away, and I could feel the toll the day took on her.

“Hey,” I said, trying to keep my tone light, like I hadn’t just watched her ex-boyfriend try to flex his way back into her life at the fair. His sorry ass almost made me go to jail by being free with his hands.

I couldn’t worry about that when my perfect vision now had flaws across her features. “You good?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she walked over to her dresser, her movements stiff, almost mechanical. She yanked open a drawer and pulled out a pair of panties and a tank top, not even bothering to pretend like she wasn’t ignoring me. The towel dropped, and for a second, I was distracted—hell, I was only human—but then I caught the look on her face.

Cold.

Closed off.

Like she was building a wall brick by brick, and I wasn’t sure if I had the tools to tear it down—again. Before we could lose our forward progress, I had to try to change the atmosphere I felt shifting between us.

“Love,” I tried again, sitting up straighter. “Talk to me.”

She finally turned to me, her expression blank. “What’s there to talk about, Real? It’s been a long day. Mentally, I don’t have the words to address anything other than my dreams. Goodnight. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I get that,” I said, running a hand over my waves. “But you’ve been quiet since we left the fair. I’m tryna make sure you know I’m here for you however you need me to be. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

She shrugged, slipping the tank top over her head. “I’m fine. Really. Just... let’s not make this a thing, okay?”

I frowned. “Not make what a thing? How you acting? Cuz the fact that you flipping out over ya ex is definitely a thing, shorty. Or do you mean us? Last I checked, we agreed this wasn’t just about sex anymore. Or did that change when Tate showed up?”

It was impossible not to feel a way. If anybody knew how hard it was to break down Love’s walls they would understand my feelings of trepidation at her blanket statement. I hoped my expression didn’t freak her out.

Her eyes flashed, and for a second, I thought she was going to snap at me. But then she just sighed, walked over to the bed and climbed on top of me. Her hands went to my shoulders, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against mine.

“Can we do something other than talk right now?” she whispered, her voice low and husky.

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