Page 49 of The Last Man on Earth
“That girl,” I repeat. “Doessheknow that?”
He chuckles softly. “When you reach a certain level of celebrity, everything is transactional.”
“Transactional?”
“Yeah. It means—“
“I know what it means.”
He’s quiet for a minute, then says, “Oh. You’re surprisedIknow what it means.”
“That’s not what I—“
“Rappers are poets. Wordsmiths. I ain’t just some dumb country nigga that stumbled into some money.”
“Villain—“
“You a snob for that shit,” he cuts in. “Anyway, like I was saying, shit is transactional. Everybody knows what game they’re playing. Shemari likes being my baby mama. She likes the fame. She likes seeing her name in the blogs and posting all the shit I buy for her. That’s her version of love. And she’s good with it.”
I consider that for a moment. “I’ve been around plenty of celebrities.”
“Then why you actin’ all babe in the woods?” His voice sharpens, frustration crackling beneath it. “It feels like you just lookin’ for excuses to avoid the inevitable.”
“It’s not inevitable.”
“Don’t play with me,” he says, his voice dipping into a growl. “You think I don’t see how you look at me? You think I ain’t notice how hard your nipples were yesterday? I know you were wet as fuck, and not from the ocean.”
I sigh, too tired to argue. Besides, I can’t dispute anything he said.
“Andyou done kissed me. Twice. So, what the fuck?”
“Okay, maybe I do want you,” I admit. “So what? It doesn’t mean I’m gonna fall right into your arms. It’s not that easy.”
He’s quiet for a minute, but when he speaks again, it sounds like he’s smiling.
“So you got terms, too, huh? Lemme hear ‘em.”
“Please. I’m not transactional like your girl.”
“You are,” he says. “Just in a different way.”
“Whatever, Villain.”
“Vincent. You can call me by my real name.”
Silence stretches between us. I turn onto my side away from him, listening for the waves in the dark, distant and fierce.
I can feel him watching me.
And I can feel my body betraying me.
Fuck. I don’twantto want him like I do, but whatever this is, it’s beyond my control, and I fuckinghatethat.
I can’t let him get what he wants, even though I want it, too. It’s too messy. Too dangerous. Men like him don’t leave you better than they found you. They leave you in the ruins of the lies they told to get what they decided you owe them.
Nope.
Not me.
