Page 66 of Sweetest Temptation
Now she’s a different woman. Her motto was to live freely, love loosely, and never let anyone get close enough to hurt her again. She flirts like it's a sport, laughs like she’s never cried, and moves through life with that soft-but-don’t-play-with-me kind of energy. People see her confidence and think she doesn’t care. Truth is, she just learned how to care about herself more than anyone else, besides me, of course.
“Ryan is cool, but we don’t want the same things. He wants the whole marriage and kids, house with a picket fence, and shit. Things I’m not interested in, friend. Not now, maybe not ever. I tried that kind of love before, and all it did was leave me empty. I like my freedom. I like knowing I can come and go as I please without having to explain myself. Ryan’s a good man—too good, honestly. But I’d only end up hurting him. And I’m not in the business of breaking hearts just because mine already has cracks.”
“Nyala, you told me that I can’t let my past define my future when I came to you about my situation with Samir. I know it isn’t easy, trust me, I know. I’m living proof of that. But?—”
She cut me off. “Nova, you can’t compare me to your situation with Jerome. Yes, it was just as bad, but… You knowwhat, I don’t even want to discuss it.” She stood, grabbing her purse off my desk. “I’ll call you later. I have a meeting to go to. Love you, boo.” She blew me a kiss and left my office as if someone had yelled, “Fire!”
I just sat there, staring at the door she’d disappeared through, her perfume still hanging in the air. Typical Nyala, running when things got too close to the truth. I wasn’t even trying to judge my friend. I understand why she feels the way she feels. I also believe she deserves to be loved properly.
With a sigh, I pushed myself up and started getting ready to deliver this cake. My whole body felt heavy, and I was tired like nobody’s business. All I could think about was getting home, taking a long, hot shower, and curling up with Londyn Lenz’s new book,Possession of an Alpha.
That woman knows how to write an alpha man. Her character visuals were out of this world. Especially Phoenix! Whew, Lord! That man could ruin my life, and I’d thank him for it.
I carefully placed the cake in the back of my truck, making sure it was snug before closing the tailgate. The last thing I needed was to show up with a disaster on my hands.
On the drive over, I got a call from Seraphina. I started not to answer since the last time we spoke was three months ago, after my divorce was finalized. What I couldn’t understand was why she thought I should’ve stayed with a man who not only cheated on me countless times but had a whole baby on me.
“Hello?” I answered dryly.
“Wow. Don’t answer with so much happiness, cousin,” she said, sarcastically. “I know you are not still mad at me…” She tried to sound sad.
“’Phina, what can I help you with?”
She was quiet for a beat before she spoke again. “I was just calling to, um… to apologize. I was wrong for how I spoke to you the last time we talked.” She sounded sincere.
“There’s no need to apologize, Phina. I don’t expect you to understand. Look, I have to go. I’m driving. I’ll call you later.” I was getting ready to hang up when she stopped me with her words.
“Wait! Please don’t hang up!” She sighed. “Nova, I am really sorry. Can we do brunch next Saturday? I really miss talking to you.”
I thought about it, and I wanted to decline, but I did miss hanging out and talking with Seraphina. She wasn’t always this bougie. It wasn’t until she got with her husband that she began to change.
“Sure. Just text me the place and time.”
“Perfect! Will do! Love you, Nova bear,” she said, calling me by the nickname she’d given me when we were kids.
I responded with the same and hung up just as I pulled up to the venue. Cars were lined along the curb with balloons tied to the gate. Music drifted faintly from inside, mixed with laughter and the sound of kids running around. The party was in full swing. Jamila had requested the cake be delivered an hour after the party had started. I didn’t see any harm since it was my only big order of the day.
I parked near the entrance and grabbed my phone, scrolling until I found Samir’s name. “Come on… Pick up,” I muttered, as it rang before it went straight to voicemail. I rolled my eyes. “Of course. Between the music and the loud kids, I’m sure he can’t hear his phone.”
For a second, I debated waiting outside, but the sun was too hot and the buttercream on that cake wasn’t about to start melting on my watch. Sliding out of the truck, I popped the back open and pulled out the folding rolling cart. After opening it andsecuring the latches in place, I carefully lifted the cake box into my arms and set it on the cart. I locked my truck and rolled the cart up to the entrance of the venue, making sure not to bump the cake. Lord knows I put my all into this thing, and Jamila—well, Samir—paid a lot of money for this beautiful cake.
I adjusted my grip on the cart and pushed through the double doors. The cool blast of air-conditioning hit me first, followed by the sound of upbeat music and chatter. I scanned the room for Samir or Jamila, coming up short. Before I could ask some random lady standing by the table, holding a cute little boy, who looked to be three, I heard my name being called over the music. I shifted my eyes and saw Jamila heading my way, smiling from ear to ear.
“Hey, Zanova! I thought Samir was supposed to come and help you with the cake?”
“He was. I tried calling his phone, but he didn’t pick up.”
“Oh, okay,” she said and looked around the venue. “I could have sworn he told me he was going outside to meet you. Well, I can help you set the cake on the table. You sure you don’t want to stay?”
“No, thanks. Besides, I’m not properly dressed for the occasion.” I chuckled nervously, trying to hurry up and get out of here before her mother or grandmother saw me. Last time I met them, I was half naked and freshly fucked.
Jamila smirked, but didn’t say anything. I placed the cake on the decorated table and removed it from the box. Although Jamila had seen the cake already, it was only through pictures. She gushed over it, as well as some of the parents and children nearby. Just as I was done placing the empty box on the cart and ready to hightail it out of there, Jamila brushed past me and began shouting at someone. It wasn’t her voice that had me almost breaking my neck to turn around, but it was the person’s voice that responded.
“Really, Jerome! Bad enough you didn’t call to wish your daughter a happy birthday this morning, but you show up late for her party!”
“I'm here, aren’t I?” Jerome responded nonchalantly.
My pulse picked up as I watched the scene before me. This can’t be happening. This had to be some type of full-circle, life-lessons bullshit.
