Page 66 of Are You Going to Love Me

Eden found Staysha’s eyes in the mirror. “Poppi's place?'

“Yeah, it’s completely up to you, though.”

“Who the fuck is this talent? I don’t want that to be a place used for clout,” Eden’s sentiments were cut off by a fist banging on the door. “Staysha, this shit is getting ghetto.”

“Relax. Finish up, I’ll handle it. You need to eat, too. Settle your nerves. Because you are on one.”

“Your nerves would be in your ass too if you were worried about a lawsuit popping up after this shoot goes live,” Eden rumbled. “If I’m scrambling for work now, I’m definitely going to be scrambling for work then.”

“Relaxxxx,” Staysha dragged out, stalking back to the door.

This time, when Staysha walked out, she didn’t come back. Instead, a presence her entire being had been longing for appeared. Shoulders squared, large afro as big as his presence. The sound of her dry swallow was audible.

Maximus’ nostrils flared as his eyes darted around the small space. That was the feeling – it was him. The irritability was evident, the aggravation, the desperate need for – sanctuary.

Eden found her voice, small but loud enough to ask, “Can we have the room, please?”

The group of stylists exited the wardrobe trailer, and Eden hummed as a sense of relief flooded over her.

“Normally, I ain’t the nigga to trip over a woman. Especially one I haven’t made mine. But you...you ran off in the middle of the night and ghosted me. After doing something to me. So, we can handle this one of two ways, E. The first way, I can come up off this cool and follow your ass around the fuckin’ city. Everywhere you step, I’m gon’ be right there. Really stalkin’ your ass. And I really don’t want to do that shit because I got so much shit to fuckin’ do. But none of the shit I have to get done can get done because I can’t sleep, and you won’t pick up the damn phone.”

Maximus’s tone was so even that it was alerting. This man was off the cliff behind her, and she was damn near on his heels. “The second way, I can shut this entire shit down and kidnap your ass. And hear me, E, I’ve never been above snatching people off the street, not even you.”

“Max.”

“Nahh, not right now, E. I already don’t wanna be here. Don’t say nothing that’s going to have me backing out of commitments. We got business to handle. We’re going to handle the business we were paid for. When it’s over, you’re coming home and you’re going to wrap your leg around me so I can get some fuckin’ sleep. Heard me?”

“Heard you.”

Maximus studied her robe-covered body for a long minute before he looked at the clothes on the rack, backing himself out of her space.

“Aight, I'll see you in a minute. Get dressed.”

Had he been anyone else, Eden would have been offended that he was talking to her like that. Because it was him, there was a throb at the apex of her thighs accompanied by the wetness caused by his scent. The mere scent that that man emitted turned her on in ways that could turn them into toxic lovers.

Eden pulled in an inhale and slowly let it go as she turned herself back to the counter. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

Dressed in her first look, Eden walked out of the space designated for her and into the cluster of people, including Staysha, Keon, and Miranda, the interviewer. Eden caught Miranda’s expression toward Maximus, who was off to the side, talking to the photographer while he lit a blunt.

“Staysha, I don’t remember if you told me or not,” Miranda started, unable to take her eyes off Maximus, who was donned in an unbuttoned Waynesville Heat baseball jersey. It combatedthe mildness of spring morphing into summer. Camouflaged cargo pants with his black flag hanging out of the back pocket. If anyone before this point questioned whether or not Maximus represented his set, they were clearly reminded.

“Told you what?” Staysha queried, with squinted eyes, picking up on what Eden had.

“Does he have a girlfriend?” Miranda questioned. “Anyone claiming him?”

Staysha chuckled. “No, not yet.”

Eden scoffed to herself, a tinge of jealousy leading her over to Maximus. He threw his arm around her shoulder and muttered, “You look good.”

His eyes cast down at the pink crop top the stylist paired with the mini skirt and heels. “Damn good.”

Eden bit a grin. “You look like Trae Way?”

“You like it?” Maximus asked, blowing the smoke away from her.

“I do, but I shouldn’t,” she sassed. “You almost hurt my feelings.”

“Yours?” he asked, raising his thick brows in shock. “Do you understand that I haven’t slept in four years, and then you put that thigh over me, and I was dead to the world. Talk about some hurt feelings.”

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