But when the laughter died, the truth settled between us.
Cadence’s voice was soft but firm. “Seriously though, Tey. Talk to him tonight. Set the rule. Make it clear. You can’t risk the boys walking into that.”
Ro agreed for once. “Yeah, sis. At minimum, he needs to know the backyard is off-limits. That’s sacred family space, not Pornhub Live.”
“Thanks, you two.” I smiled. “We all agree that I talk to him tonight and lay down the law. No more backyard shows.”
“Good girl,” Cadence whispered.
“Good bitch,” Ro corrected, and I laughed.
My chest eased for the first time all day. Between the absurdity, the filth, and the wisdom, I felt held.
This was why I loved them.
This was why, even in the middle of my mess, I didn’t feel alone.
Cadence cleared her throat, and that quiet librarian tone slipped in. “Before we hang up, we do need to pick our next book for this month’s book club meeting. We can’t keep putting it off.”
Ro groaned so dramatically I could hear her flop onto her couch. “Lord, here she go. Always with the homework.”
“It’s a book club, Rochelle,” Cadence said, calm but sharp enough to make me bite my lip to keep from laughing. “We actually have to read books.”
“Reading the books is the best part. It’s just that you always make everything feel like a big professional job,” Ro huffed. “What’s the list this time? It better be nice and smutty.”
The laughter had eased my body, while the sisterhood that only they could give wrapped around me like armor.
I could hear Cadence shuffling papers. It was probably coming from that planner of hers with tabs and color-coded stickies. “Here we go. This month we’re doing Interracial Romance again. Option one:Chained Desire.It’s a BDSM—super kinky, like full-on dungeons, suspension, toys I had to Google.”
“Ooo.” Ro’s voice went wicked. “Now you’re speakingmylanguage.”
Cadence ignored her and kept reading. “Hero is a Dom named Michael, fifty years old, owns a private club in Chicago. Heroine is LeSean, forty-six, a journalist who goes undercover to investigate him but ends up begging to be tied up. It’s a BwWm—Black woman, White man.”
Ro snapped her fingers like she was already at church. “BwWm? You know how hard I fuck with those. Give me a silver fox White daddy with a big cock, big money, and a taste for chocolate? Sold.”
I chuckled, “These are all facts I can live by.”
Cadence sighed. “Of course you would pick that. But I’m leaning toward option two.”
Her voice softened, warm as tea. “It’s calledUntil the Elevator Falls.Mature couple, both in their sixties. We follow Hiroshi, a Japanese American CEO. The heroine is Virginia, a Black professor. They get trapped in an elevator for twelve hours. Oh yeah. They’re old college sweethearts who broke up forty years ago. So it’s second chance romance. And apparently. . .I saw on a Reddit blog that there is a whole lot of sex. Something is done with a mineral water glass bottle and a banana.”
“Oh, damn,” I whispered, intrigued despite myself. “What are they doing with that bottle and fruit?”
“Stuck on the elevator though?” Ro groaned. “Girl, that sounds like too much crying and not enough stroking. You know Cadence loves to cry through a romance. She’s probably already picturing herself clutching tissues in chapter two.”
Cadence chuckled. “Not everything has to be smut, Rochelle.”
“Speak for yourself.” Ro’s wine glass clinked. “Smut is my religion.”
I snorted, shaking my head.
“Option three,” Cadence said, ignoring her again. “The Pool Boy.”
My ears perked up.
“Premise,” Cadence read. “Newly divorced and forty year old mom, Simone, hires a twenty-one-year-old Hispanic pool boy named Diego for the summer. He shows up shirtless, dripping water, and intent on seducing her. It’s HmBw—Hispanic man, Black woman. And well. . .the tagline is interesting.”
I quirked my brows. “What’s the tagline?”
