Page 40 of Miles Apart
He stands and straightens his black and gold dashiki shirt matching his pants and vintage loafers. Kojo is a good-looking man—hazelnut skin, angular face, round lips, and dreads twisted into a bun—who pulls women and men.
But not me.
We learned early on we’re better off as friends and left it at that. He’s attractive, but there’s no spark.
“Congratulations, Koko!” I extend my hands for him to take, and he holds them out to take me in.
“Damn, girl. Who are you trying to give a heart attack in here?” A low whistle exits his lips when I spin. “You always did have an amazing ass.”
“Hush.” I laugh. “What a show! I’m so proud of you, Koko. The designs, the set, the styling. You truly outdid yourself.”
Kojo’s bows in a cocky way that says he knows he’s the shit. “Thank you, mama. I’ve been working with someone, and when I tell you she handles shit so I can focus on designing...” His hands form a chef’s kiss. “The investment pays for itself.”
“She did her thing tonight.”
“I wish you two could’ve met. But she sprinkled her magic and hopped on a red-eye to London. Are you hitting any other shows?”
“I’m checking in with a few vendors in Milan. Have to get back to California soon.” Kojo and I only see each other during fashion weeks, but we make it work.
He scoffs. “All work and no play.” A brow arches as his eyes glide over my shoulder. “You are reeling them in tonight. Who will have the golden ticket?”
I sigh. “I need a drink first.”
“Say less.”
Kojo guides us out of the room to the bar down the hall. The setup reminds me of a speakeasy with ambient lighting, handcrafted wood, and brass fixtures. I order an espresso martini and almost down it in one go.
His frown twists his features. “Since when do you need liquid courage?” By now, I would’ve narrowed down my choices of who’s coming back to my room. Unlike him, only one person will make the cut.
“I don’t. It’s been a long day, and my flight got in late last night.”
“Go to sleep and try again tomorrow.”
“Nope, I need dick tonight.”
He releases a long breath. “Same. I’m ready for bed but need to get into something that makes me crack my toes and drool once I pass out.”
The high five we share kicks off our quest for the evening. Kojo kisses me goodnight on the cheek once he finds a couple to share his bed. I have no such luck with any of the men filtering into what was once the VIP area for the Rustin after-party.
Most people affiliated with the show either left for another party or headed home, where my ass should be. I’m not just tired physically. I’m over using toys and want the real thing. I refuse to let jet lag be the only one fucking me tonight.
The bar is busy. Waves and a low fade catch my eye from my barstool. He’s hard to see between a horde of people taking up space, but when the group parts, I get a better view.
I start with his Italian leather shoes, work up his legs and torso in an all-black suit, and smile at the prospect of a lover for the night.
That is, until it registers it’s Miles.
And he’s not alone.
Chapter 17
Miles
Real talk, shorty looks good tonight. I met Brandice last week after I stopped by to see my boy, Trey. He runs a security firm and has an office in Tribeca. The floor above is some type of rental space that fashion designers use. Brandice was there. She strutted into the elevator like she owned it, catching my attention with her long legs and smile.
We exchanged numbers but haven’t been able to link up because of her schedule ahead of tonight’s show. I appreciate a nice ‘fit, but I don’t follow fashion brands like that. Whoever did up Brandice deserves a raise. That thong she rocked had me about to choke on my drool. I don’t know if the thing had crystals on it or what, but the shit was glistening, and it had me leaning against the back wall with my dick at full salute.
Brandice is the only reason we’re here in Gramercy after her show and not back at her place getting to it. She had a stretch of interviews after her event but wanted to hit up whatever party the designer had. Judging by the crease between her brows, it’s already over.
