Page 65 of Real's Love

Her eyes blazed before she was able to hide her anger… or her desire.

“As appealing as you make that sound, I can’t.” Her tone was level, but I knew sarcasm was dripping from every word. “I have somewhere to be.”

I scowled at her. “You can run tonight, but this conversation not over.”

“This conversation is definitely over. And I don’t owe you answers. I’m leaving soon,” she announced, stepping away from the wall.

I caged her right back in, one arm on either side of her head as she retreated.

“Seriously, Real?—"

She gasped as I brought my face within an inch of hers, my lips hovering above her parted ones.

“You think I won’t find you and find out exactly what I want to know, love? Keep fucking with me and see,” I growled.

I watched the pulse in her neck beat faster. Her breath escaped her in soft little puffs and her brown eyes betrayed feelings of unease and the unsated lust that connected us. Evanie liked to play unaffected, but I knew how to get to her. I brushed a kiss against her lips and smirked at her. Moving away, I opened the door just as one of the movers yelled, “Ms. Hill, we gone!”

Unaware that I had opened the door, he added, “Witcho fine ass,” under his breath, making his sorry-ass co-worker giggle. I cleared my throat and stepped into the hallway. The goofy ass laughter stopped. Two sets of eyes widened on me as the owners of those wary faces tried to balance the last of the boxes.

“Something funny?” I inquired, sliding my hands into my pockets and leaning a shoulder against the wall.

I waited as they muttered and stared, one of them finally getting up the nerve to mumble, “No, sir.”

“Then get the fuck out,” I ordered, my voice cold.

I’d had about enough of their tired asses. I looked over at Evanie standing in the doorway. Her, I definitely hadn’t had enough of. This particular entanglement wouldn’t end until I said so.

“Who paying for you now?”

That question cut so deep that I’d had to fight real hard not to punch him…

…or to cry. The last few weeks, I’d thought about the way he’d reacted to Marlon and Naaman and the whirlwind of outings and nights spent together, wondering exactly what Real was feeling. Between his response to LaChelle and the call from a woman who was obviously sure she had claims on his attention, what I had let myself believe didn’t seem correct. I was feeling way too much for a man who allowed himself other options. My damn rules had failed me. It was time to go. I wasted no time dialing Emory who quickly handed off to Prime.

“I’m going to leave. Like… in the morning,” I announced.

“Slow down, Ev. You said you had a few last things to handle. Hotel Saturday and Sunday. Jet out Monday. It’s Friday night. What’s wrong, lady?” he asked gently.

I was as protective of Emory as she was of me. I’d made Prime’s life hell with my interrogations and distrust. We’d argued more than a little and still snarked at each other sometimes. So, his tone being soft almost did me in. I swallowed, did a four-count inhale and a six-count exhale before I trusted myself to speak.

“I just need to go,” I finally whispered. “The house should probably be wiped tonight.”

He paused for a long moment. Then… “Let me work it out. It’ll be a go tomorrow.”

I had planned to spend tonight having a fun goodbye-for-now dinner with Taleah and Kelsey. Instead, it was mostly quiet as I came clean because I knew I might need their help, and I had come to value their friendship. Instead of spending the night at a hotel, I was put up in one of their empty condos. Early the next morning, Prime had a driver meet me there. It took some convincing, but I got him to let go of the idea of a flight. I knew a long ride would help clear my head.

I knew Emory was in his ear when he barely even grumbled as I decided to make yet another unplanned move and call my friend Phoenix as we neared the Dallas-Fort Worth area. Phee was a stylist whose hands were touched by the Lord himself. She agreed to see me on short notice. She took one look at me when I stepped in her shop, and knew something wasn’t right.

“What he do, whoever he is, babe?” she asked.

Over a wash, deep condition, and silk press, I let her in on some of it. She was quiet for a minute after I stopped babbling.

“You know I’ma always tell you what I think,” she finally said.

I laughed. “Yeah. I know.”

“Sounds like a lot of miscommunications and both of y’all trying to protect your feelings. I’ve had some ain’t shit niggas, so I’m definitely not trying to see you in a bad situation. But next go round, I want you to scrap those rules and lead with your heart.”

“I did that before,” I scoffed.

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