“Uh-huh,” Renza said, leanin’ back in the chair. “You crazy, she crazy, and now you done met your match. That’s what this is.”
Kay’Lo sat up. “What about Pluto though? Or the rest of ‘em? You got all these fine-ass women in the house, and you pick the one most likely to set your shit on fire in your sleep.”
“I like Pluto. Actually, I more than like her,” I said, sittin’ on the edge of the bed. “I like all of ‘em. It ain’t like I don’t care about the others, I’m just…” I let it trail ‘cause even I didn’t know how to wrap it up clean. “I didn’t think this was gon’ be this fuckin’ hard. I thought I would know by now who I wanted. Instead, I’m sittin’ here with Kashmere on one side, a couple others I’m feelin’, and Ka’mari still blowin’ my phone up like she don’t got a nigga.”
Renza perked up. “Ka’mari still callin’? Nigga, what?”
“Yeah,” I said, shakin’ my head. “Askin’ me if we can talk. Askin’ if I miss her. I don’t even know what to do with that. My head’s all over the place.”
Kay’Lo chuckled low. “Sound like you need this trip more than ol’ girl do.”
“Maybe I do,” I admitted, grabbin’ my keys. “Either way, I’m goin’, and she’s goin’ with me.”
Renza and Kay’Lo looked at each other like my fate was sealed, then Renza laughed. “A’ight, Mr. Loverman. Just don’t bring her back pregnant or with her name tatted on your neck.”
I grabbed my Gucci shades and walked out without answerin’, hearin’ them both snicker behind me.
Kashmere was waitin’ downstairs, sittin’ on the arm of a cream velvet chair like she’d been pulled straight out of a fashion spread. She had on this soft cream set with gold sandals, edges laid, nails sharp and polished, her bag sittin’ at her feet. Calm didn’t even begin to describe it—she was glowin’ in that post-storm peace. Her eyes locked on mine and for the first time in days there was no heat, just steady focus.
“You ready?” I asked.
She nodded, standin’ smooth and pickin’ up her Louis carry-on. “Yes.”
The driver had the Maybach out front. The air was warm with that slow-burn sunset smell, and I felt that loosenin’ in my chest again. We slid into the back, the leather soft as butter, and she settled in beside me without a word. The ride to the hangar stayed quiet. Every now and then she glanced at me, then back out the window like she was soakin’ up every piece of the moment.
When we pulled up, my jet was already gleamin’ under the last stretch of sunlight.Crown Wingswas spelled in gold script along the side, and the steps was down with a flight attendant waitin’ in a crisp white uniform. The smell of jet fuel mixed with ocean air from the nearby water, and the whole scene screamed money.
I put my hand on the small of her back as we walked up, and she let me guide her without pullin’ away. Inside, the jet was pure luxury. It had cream leather seats, dark wood trim, a stocked marble-top bar with Ace of Spades chillin’ on ice. The cabin lights was dimmed low, just enough to make the gold accents shine.
She slid into the seat by the window, settin’ her bag down, and I went to tell the pilot we was ready to roll. When I cameback, she was sittin’ there with one leg crossed, lookin’ out the window like she was already gone in her head. I dropped into the seat across from her and reached for the champagne.
I poured her a glass and slid it across the table, watchin’ her fingers curl around the stem. She took a slow sip, her eyes driftin’ from the window back to me, and I could see it in her face—she was calm now, but she was also tryna read me.
I leaned back in my seat, let a smirk pull at the corner of my mouth, then reached across the table and took her free hand. Her eyes stayed on mine when I did it, like she wanted to know what was behind it, but I didn’t say a word. I just held it there, my thumb movin’ slow against her skin.
“You gon’ have a good time,” I said finally, my voice certain. “That’s all you need to know.”
She didn’t answer, but the way she looked at me told me she believed it. That little wall she kept up had cracks in it now, and I could see the way her breathin’ shifted when I didn’t look away. She didn’t have to say it, but I could tell—she was in love with me.
The engines roared to life, the runway stretched out ahead of us, and for the first time in days I didn’t feel pulled in a million different directions. Eliminations, Ka’mari, the rest of the Diamonds—none of it mattered right now. It was just me, her, and the promise of that Virella Azul water waitin’ for us.
Virella Azul
When we landed in Virella Azul, the beautiful scenery almost took my breath away. The water looked like it had been poured straight from a bottle of turquoise glass, and the air carried that warm, salty breeze that makes your skin feel softer the second it touches you. The runway sat right along the coast, so I could see the waves glittering in the distance as we stepped off the jet. It felt like the kind of place you only seen in pictures, like the whole damn island had been designed for people who could afford to forget about the rest of the world for a while.
Pressure walked ahead of me, his jewelry catching the sunlight with every step. The gold chains across his chest shined against his dark skin, his watch heavy and bright on his wrist,and there was a certain way he carried himself here—like this was his territory. The closer I got to him, the more I realized just how easy it was to fall into his space. I knew what we’d been through back at the estate. I knew I had let my emotions run wild and I wasn’t proud of the way I handled it, but in this moment, none of that mattered. He had still brought me here, still decided that I was worth this trip, and deep down I understood exactly what that meant.
The car waiting for us was a sleek black SUV with tinted windows. The driver greeted Pressure like he already knew him, loading our bags before opening the door for me. Inside was cool and smelled faintly of citrus, and the leather seats felt like they’d been made for you to sink into. We rode along a winding coastal road, passing stretches of untouched beach and villas tucked behind palm trees, each one more private than the last.
When we reached ours, I knew immediately this wasn’t just some high-end rental. This was something Pressure had picked because it spoke to him. The villa sat on its own curve of sand, the driveway lined with tropical flowers in full bloom. White stone walls framed the entrance, and tall glass doors opened straight through to a view that looked unreal. The whole back wall was nothing but open space to the ocean.
Inside, it was decked out the way only a man like Pressure could arrange. A private chef was already in the open kitchen, preparing fresh seafood while the smell of garlic and butter drifted through the air. A chilled bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket on the marble counter, along with a tray of tropical fruit—pineapple, mango, and strawberries cut so perfectly they looked fake. The chef nodded respectfully when we walked in, and Pressure told him to make sure the drinks kept coming.
I walked out onto the terrace, letting my hands slide along the smooth stone railing as I took in the view. The infinity pool spilled into the horizon, and just beyond it was our own privatebeach. The sound of the water mixed with faint music drifting from somewhere in the villa, set the mood without forcing it.
I turned slightly and found myself watching Pressure instead of the scenery. He had taken off his shirt and was standing near the pool, the sun hitting the hard lines of his chest and shoulders. The jewelry still caught the light, and the tattoos across his skin were so damn sexy. It hit me then that I really had him all to myself.
“Come on,” he said, jerking his head toward the beach.
