I begged her not to let them water her down—to choose me.
At the end of the day, I wasn’t her choice. I had to let go. No matter how hard it was.
And I did.
For almost ten years, I just settled for being friends to keep her in my life. Then I warned her about Julian, and she asked never to see me again. I respected that. I stayed away. Even when the news about Julian and Nora Whitfield broke, I found myself writing a bunch of texts and letters—maybe a dozen or so. I opened her contact a million times. I stalked her website and social media. But in the end, I didn’t reach out. I stuck to my word, kept respecting her wishes, dated women here and there—nothing serious—and ended up married to the job instead.
I haven’t had the time, or passion, for a woman…until now.
Damn.
“Yeah, you’re right.” I nod at Josiah, letting the tension drain from my shoulders. “It’s long overdue.”
Dom releases a relieved sigh. “Man, you all had me scared for a minute.”
Josiah shakes his head, laughing. “Relax. We’re boys. We can’t be out here body-checking each other like this.”
We don’t sugarcoat or hold back with each other. It’s raw, loud, and raucous, but when it’s done, it’s done.
“Nah, but for real, what are you going to do?” Dom asks. “The streets have been talking.”
“And by that, you mean the blogs?” I chuckle.
He sucks his teeth. “Say what you want, but the blogs have been posting photos of your girl, so something’s definitely brewing.”
Josiah and I both burst out howling with laughter.
“My guy, you need better pastimes.” Josiah claps a hand on Dom’s shoulder. “Mind the business that pays you.”
Dom ducks out of his grip, backing away. “That’s how I stay in the know. You should be thanking me, Linc. And if you ask me, all that ultra-professional, keeping-her-distance-at-your-office role play… She’sclearlyhiding how much she wants you.”
“That’s what we’re not going to do. We’re not going to glorify this like some rom-com movie,” Josiah says, attempting to nip that theory in the bud.
But it’s too late.
“Remember that lawyer from Buckhead?” Dom lifts his eyebrows like that says it all. He groans when he’s met with our blank stares. “Petite, thick, had that pet snake?”
“Is that a euphemism for—” Josiah starts, but Dom isn’t having it.
He sighs loudly. “Whatever, man. My point is, she helped me review some of the legal stuff with that house I was renting out, and she wasintome. It was obvious—body language, eye contact, everything. She wanted me but wouldn’t cross that line.” He dips his chin, clearly gearing up to make some elusive point, which I assume he’ll deliver any second now. “A month after the business was done, she reached out. Full admission. She’d been fighting it the whole time.”
Josiah and I nod, barely suppressing our laughs.
“Well, that’s it, then.” Sarcasm coats my tone.
But Dom continues, driving his point home. “Tell me Ebony’s body language wasn’t there. That in that restroom, she wasn’t a deer in headlights, checking out your junk?”
“You mean his family jewels,” Josiah corrects him, and it’s the last straw. His smooth expression cracks.
These fools sprint a lap around the blacktop, howling and cackling, gasping for air at my expense.
“It’s cool. Y’all got jokes.” Shaking my head, I turn toward the bench, not about to stand here and watch.
Josiah runs me down, grabs his water bottle, and takes a long swig. “So, again. At the risk of harping on the same point, where’s your head? What are you going to do?”
Dom walks over in time to catch the tail end of his sentence, so now the full collective weight of their stares is on me.
The thing is, seven days ago in my office, she set the tone. Logically, I know anything we shared was in the past. The problem is that there’s also a stubborn part of me holding tight to something that felt so real.
