Page 6 of His Secure Embrace
“If I could move my ass like, Bri, I would have the entire world eating out of the palm of my hands,” Tava stated plainly. She shook her head as she poured another round of shots from the top shelf tequila bottle.
“Girl, please. You’re out here living life! You got sugar daddies funding your lifestyle. You’re utilizing your assets.”
Lynae agreed with, “Exactly. Men love all shapes and sizes. Don’t let the internet fool you.”
I loved that Lynae and Tava were girl’s girls. They supported women, uplifted women, and protected women as best they could. I loved their genuineness. I loved that no matter howmuch time had passed, we all remained positive and loving toward one another.
Tonight showed me just how much I missed my girls. I needed to make more effort to keep in touch with them.
“Your man is headed this way,” Lynae teased.
My gaze lifted to see James walking up the stairs. I doubted he was actually headed our way because there were several sections on the top floor, but the closer he came, the more my stomach fluttered with butterflies.
“That’s not my man.”
“Yet.” Tava corrected.
“Why are y’all so invested in my love life?” I asked, somewhat joking. My tone was light, but I was curious of the answer.
“You’re always putting your love life on the back burner, Bri. We’ve known you almost a decade and you either end things, ghost people, or run from a good man.”
I bit down on my bottom lip because she posed a valid point. “I have my reasons.”
“That’s your right, for sure. However, we wanna see you in love and being loved. You deserve it,” Lynae explained.
“I appreciate y’all.”
I wanted to deaden the conversation before we took a turn too serious for the club setting. They weren’t wrong. I ran from love because I’d watched my mother break my father’s heart, then he turned around and broke countless women’s hearts. The saying hurt people hurt people was too real for me. I didn’t want to find myself on the wrong end of a heartbreak. It was always best if I fucked and ducked to save my heart from a potentially detrimental relationship.
a few hoursprior to the club
“Uncle James!” Rose exclaimed in her high pitched, childish voice. She ran to me at full speed. I bent my knees and held out my arms to scoop her up. After I kissed her forehead, I tickled her sides. Her squeals of joy warmed my heart.
“Hey, Roro. How are you doing today?” I asked.
“Good. I spent the day with Daddy,” she explained enthusiastically.
“Did you have fun with your dad?”
She nodded animatedly. “We went to the park. We ate ice cream and gummy bears. Then Daddy took me home to Mama. Mama yelled at Daddy. Mama saidniggas ain’t shit. What are niggas, Uncle James?”
My lips pulled into a deep frown as I listened to my five-year-old niece repeat what my sister had said around her. I shook my head.
“Those are grown up words, Roro. You are too young to be saying them.”
She frowned. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, baby girl, but your mama is. Go upstairs and watch cartoons, okay?”
“Okay.”
I placed her on her feet and watched as she ran up the stairs to her room. When her tiny frame disappeared, I walked into the kitchen. My sister, Jasmine, was at the stove, stirring a pot of what smelled like catfish. The air fryer hummed in the distance, most likely cooking a batch of fries. I may have been a fit nigga, but I was a big back at heart. Food was a love language of mine.
“Hey, Jay.”
“Don’t. Why the fuck you got my niece telling meniggas ain’t shit?” I asked.
She laughed. “Rose said that?”
