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“Take me to your room. I want to show you something,” she says and holds her hand out to me. I take it and use it to pull myself up.
I open the door to my room and she starts to strip. My cock stirs at the sight of her smooth, tan skin and the swell of her tits.
“Good idea, I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk. Much less, run off,” I say and start to take my clothes off, too.
“Hayes,” she says from underneath the T-shirt that’s covering her face. “Sex isn’t always the answer,” she reprimands.
“Why not? It sure as hell feels like answer,” I joke. Only partly.
“I want to show you something,” she says again and then turns her back to me.
“You see?” She looks over her shoulder at me expectantly. I scan her back and then I see it. My eyes snap back to hers. She’s grinning from ear to ear, those plump lips parted to reveal her white, bright smile. Her eyes are full of triumph.
I look back to her lower back, in between the Dimples of Venus is scrawled ADORO IL FIUME—I love the river—in the same font as my family crest.
I kneel down to get a closer look and run my fingers over it. Gooseflesh erupts on her skin. I press a kiss to her lower back and stand up, turning her to face me.
“What do you think?” she asks.
“You did that for me?” I ask at the same time.
“I love it,” I respond.
“Just for you,” she says, and we speak over each other again.
She cups my face in her hands, and whispers, “Ti amotu sei il re del mio cuore.” You’re the king of my heart.
I can only stare at her while my heart races happily toward the edge of the cliff called Confidence and takes a flying leap.
“You learned Italian?” I ask dumbly, too shocked to say anything that makes any semblance of sense.
She laughs. “Well, not entirely. But enough for my big reveal,” she says.
“You tattooed my family’s name on your body?” I ask stupidly.
“Well, yeah,” she says, and I don’t hear any regret or doubt in her voice. “I’ve never really been in love before, Hayes. Not until you. Not until now and I figured I should commemorate it. Because this love … it’s everything. You’re everything. These last two months, you’ve showed me so much. Taught me so much. Shared so much with me. And I don’t want you to worry. I’m the surest thing in your life. I love you. I want to move. I’m ready to live my life. I’m ready to take a chance. You’re my lover, my brother, my father, my friend, my person. I need you. It’s not you I’m unsure about. It’s life. Nothing your family does or says will change how I see you,” she says, and when she kisses me, I almost believe her.
FLOOD
CONFIDENCE
I don’t dance now, I make money moves. Cardi B’s “Bodak Yellow” bursts into my brain and I wake up with a gasp. I grab my phone and glance around the room. I’m alone. When my gaze drifts to the west-facing bay window, my heart lurches into my throat. My phone, forgotten, falls silently onto the thick down comforter of the bed. I slide off the bed and walk over to the window for a closer look.
The wind is having its way with the huge walnut trees that line the drive of Hayes’s family home. They’re waving violently back and forth, hurling their leaves into the air with terrifying speed. The rain is falling in sheets that look like liquid glass. The wind is blowing it sideways, too, and it’s sheeting against the window.
It looks like the world is ending.
The rain started just when I landed this morning. I knew a storm was brewing in the gulf, but I hadn’t really paid attention because it was supposed to miss the delta. When I stepped off my flight and saw the gates packed with stranded passengers because flights out were being cancelled, I started to worry. I hate storms, and I’d forgotten that Houston, though always spared the brunt of the wind damage, always got a lion’s share of the rain when storms came into the part of the gulf where the city sat. Having a port had made it the powerhouse trade behemoth that it was. But being that close to the water also meant that its flat landscape, the bayou that ran right through the city—and its below-sea-level altitude—made it ripe ground for the kinds of floods that most other major cities had managed to design away.
My phone starts to ring again, and I dash back to pick it up. That’s Cass’s exclusive ringtone and I know her parents’ Meyerland neighborhood floods.
“Hey, you okay?” I ask without saying hello.
“Oh my God, Confidence. Thank God you answered,” she wails and dread fills me. “I’m so scared, I don’t know what to do.” She sobs into the phone.
“Where are you?” I ask, but I already know.
“My parents’. I came last night because they didn’t want to leave their house, and I didn’t want them to be alone.” Her speech is muffled like she’s covering her mouth.
