Page 50 of The Virgin Playboy

There were actually a lot of things he hadn't shared, as those cameras followed us like jeepers creepers to baggage claim—and then the drop off area, where cars were already waiting to pick us up.

“Mum, I'm gonna ride with Jaq and Uncle Tiake. Can I meet you at the house?”

“Of course, my love,” she hugged him, then hugged me, then joined two of their other family members in a combination of four cars.

Wondering why we hadn’t ridden with his mom, I still looked forward to getting to know him through his Uncle Tiake.

“What was that back there?” I asked, as Graham instinctively leaned in for my kiss.

“Nothing really. I just haven't been home in a while and the press has nothing better to do.”

“Graham, that wasn't nothing. Those cameras were invested in you. Your family. And why were they calling you the Waka prince?”

“That's just his nickname,” his uncle interjected. “It's hard being the only boy in one of the wealthiest families in New Zealand.”

“Come again?” my neck snapped in Graham's direction.

“I told you, Jaq, my family works in a dairy industry. New Zealand exports like 35% of the world's dairy.”

“Yeah, but I'm thinking like a local yogurt here and there. You're one of the wealthiest families in New Zealand?”

“When you say it like that, you make it sound weird,” he frowned.

“Boy, I'm thinking we're on the same level. Come to find out, I'm the pauper in this relationship,” I laughed.

That was a first. I either met men at my level or dated down just to vary out my options. No wonder he had a nice apartment with a part-time salary. He was fucking rich!

“Baby. Does it really matter to you?”

“I mean, no. But I think you forgot to mention a few things when it came to your upbringing.”

“Well, this is about to be a long high ride, girl. We got plenty of time,” Tiake announced, as he wasn't lying. The GPS predicted this was about to be a long car ride, but I was sure it’d be made fun by Uncle Tiake’s hilarious stories about growing up on the island.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, but Graham spoke a lot more Māori than he led on back in the states. I’d heard him speak Spanish for sure, but maybe it was because he had so little people to speak it with, it was why I hadn’t been made aware of it.

It all started when Tiake referred to Graham as takiwātanga, and not wanting to be left out of the context, I demanded to know what the term meant.

“It's the Māori word for autism,” Tiake admitted. “Here, we try not to look at autism as a challenge, but rather a strength everyone else doesn't have. It means he who is simply in their own time and space.”

“Oh, I like that. That definitely describes you, baby.”

“Aw, thank you,” as he leaned in for a kiss.

“Not that I’m complaining, but it was a long plane ride, and we’ve been driving for hours. How far out does your family live?” I wondered.

“We live all over. Auckland. Wellington, Queenstown. We're even in Toronto, Tauranga/Mount Maunganvi. Those of us in New Zealand, that is,” Tiake admitted.

“Babe. I got uncles, aunts, cousins, family I probably never even met more than once, a little bit of everywhere. Australia, Hawaii, Cook Islands, Utah, we're like everywhere.”

“Chile, that sounds like Black people,” I joked, even though their replies hadn’t answered my question.

“You know, when Mārama said you had an American girlfriend, we all got kind of worried that he was going to come back acting like a white boy. So, imagine our relief when we found out you were Black.”

“Don't listen to him, Jaq. Whatever he's about to say, he's full of crap,” Graham laughed.

“Graham has always been the social outcast of the family. We always knew he wasn't going to do everything the right way. Honestly, we feared he would come back the antichrist after living in New York.”

“We're not that bad,” I defended.