Page 90 of Are You Going to Love Me

“I’ve been turned every which way but loose, and I’m really trying not to psych myself out,” Eden admitted.

“Don’t you do that dumb shit,” Staysha scolded. “Don’t you dare.”

Eden held her hands up. “Fine.”

“Thank you, now enjoy all of this. You deserve it.”

From the massages to the cooking class uptown, Eden and Staysha enjoyed laughter, drinks, and even some tears. The night continued, landing the pair at Uptown Sips, a bar owned by Fatima and DJ Rudy.

“So, you and Rudy have businesses together?” Staysha asked, interested in how they owned everything together and acted as if they weren’t a couple.

Eden balanced her attention between the conversation and her texts.

Max: You really smacked it on your tongue and looked me in my eyes.

Eden: Where else was I supposed to look?

Max: Cut it out. I can’t touch you.

Eden: You can still smell it?

Max: Just enough. Gotta get back in my garden.

Eden bit her lip and locked her phone.

“What’s got you grinning and skinning?” Fatima asked as her bar manager slid another order of drinks over to them. “Your man?”

“He isn’t my man,” Eden huffed. “Anyway, we’re asking you all the questions.”

“Rudy and I have benefits. The relationship is beneficial. I have access to things, business opportunities, and leverage. He has his freedom.”

“So, this relationship is open?” Eden mused, her face scrunching.

Staysha nudged her, prompting her to fix her face. “You let him fuck just anyone?”

Fatima laughed. “Only when he’s on the road. I can’t go to every show or be everywhere, so it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. All the women know their roles and have signed NDAs.”

Eden grunted. “Okay, keep it real with us, for real. You’re okay with that?”

Fatima looked around the space she’d built from the ground up. “We’re good together; I love him. I’ve had a bad run at love. Am I supposed to throw that away because he’s a man?”

Eden grunted again. “You’re supposed to honor you, and as long as you’re doing that...it’ll work, I guess.”

“Until it doesn’t,” Staysha huffed. “I don’t want you to misunderstand me. I like you. My sister and Poppi taught me not to sell myself short. Rudy is a great DJ, producer, or whatever, but I think you’re giving him one hundred percent, and he’s giving you whatever you accept. I don’t think that’s right.”

On the edge of tears, Fatima sighed, “What do I do?”

Eden shrugged. “I have limited knowledge on relationships, but I was raised by a queenpin who taught us to have our own money, our own minds, and our own love because niggas will sell you short every time. You’re selling yourself for a few more zeros and commas, but I really don’t think you sleep well at night.”

Fatima lowly swiped a tear. “I don’t. In that big house, it’s cold.”

“Damn, we didn’t mean to make you cry,” Staysha hummed.

“No, it’s fine really. You guys had no clue what I’ve been dealing with, and the last couple of days it’s been rough. This feels like confirmation. I’ve been praying on a sign, and you two waltzed through the door.”

“You know if you need us, we’re here,” Staysha offered, and Eden agreed.

“I’m sure once I make this move, I’m going to need some friends. I’m from Majestic Falls. I moved down here to be with him. I haven’t made any real friends in this city, and you two are the first pair of women I’ve been around that didn’t support this,” Fatima admitted. “Or didn’t want to fuck him too.”

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