Page 49 of D’Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding

At that, I shot upright, face pinched into a disbelieving scowl.

“How is this my fault?!”

“Because you’re used to only having to lick your lips and blink your pretty little eyes to get what you want. Women usually take a look at your tatts and your locs, and fall at your feet. And once you start speaking Spanish, it’s over. They be eating right out of your hand.”

I frowned harder, wanting to dispute her claims but knowing that anything I said would just be bullshit because she wasn’t lying. Unfortunately.

“You’re tryna handle ole girl like you handle all those women that you claim you don’t want. And you know I wasn’t with this love-of-my-life shit from the beginning, but now I gotta ask, how do you expect to get something different if you’re pulling the same old tricks?”

“I’m not pulling tricks. I’m just—” I broke off, not having an answer to what was probably a rhetorical question to begin with.

Rhea leveled me with a knowing look. “You’re just what, Kris?”

“I’m just...being overly affectionate and hoping for the best,” I offered lamely.

“Uh-huh. And what will that get you?” She held up a hand and ticked off a single, solitary finger. “Maybe pussy. Anything else?”

With a sigh, I shook my head. That method hadn’t gotten me anywhere before and it likely wouldn’t get me anywhere now.

“Okay, so what do I do?”

“Pshh!” She mushed me. “I can’t tell your ass what to do.”

I bounced off the cushions and came right back to her. “You always tell me what to do. It’s one of your driving forces in life.”

Pursing her lips, she looked off into the void and chuckled before shrugging.

“Yeah, you’re right. Well, the first thing you need to do is be up-front with her.”

“Done. ¿Qué más?” I’d been telling D’Vaughn what my aim was since the night we met. That was easy.

Narrowing her eyes, Rhea stared at me. “Done, huh?”

“Yeah, bro. That’s lightweight. Done and done. What’s next.”

Rhea shook her head. “Nah, man. Do that first and then come talk to me.”

“It’s basically done already!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands into the air.

“Básicamente no es completamente. Just finish it all the way and then come talk to me.”

“Man, whatever.” Annoyed, I pushed off of the couch and went to my room.

If she wasn’t going to help me then there was nothing else to be said. If we both knew what I was looking for, how much more transparent could I be? I grumbled the entire time that I slipped out of my clothes and jumped under the covers. When I finally closed my eyes, the image of D’Vaughn danced beneath my eyelids. She was so close, but whenever I would reach for her she would shimmy away. It felt like more than a metaphor and I slept restlessly with that heavy on my mind.

The next afternoon, I was determined to do things differently. We were working with a limited amount of time and I had to get the ball rolling before we got to the end of this thing and said our goodbyes. As we’d done the day before, D’Vaughn and I met at the venue before everyone else. When I spotted her car, I parked and walked over, knocking on the passenger window to make my presence known. After I heard the unmistakable sound of the locks disengaging, I opened the door and climbed inside.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Kris.”

She gave me a quick glance before doing an immediate double take, raking her gaze over me as her nostrils flared slightly. Grinning, I grabbed the back of the seat behind her. I might have rushed home after work for a quick shower so I could change, and I might have spritzed on a couple squirts of cologne and dressed with her in mind. If I was gonna pull the trigger on getting her to be the love of my life, it didn’t hurt to have the clip fully loaded. I might not have intended to lean on my looks, but I’d be a fool not to at least use them to my advantage. At the very least, I knew D’Vaughn liked how I looked, so I’d selected a pair of dark-wash denim jeans and a gray short-sleeved T-shirt. Gray-and-black Air Max were on my feet, and I’d left my hair free since she seemed to like it when I wore it that way, if her constantly fingering the strands meant anything.

“You wore that to work?”

I shook my head. “I wore a tracksuit to work, but went home and changed before coming this way.”

“Oh, okay.”