Something Like Love (Serendipitous Love Book 6) Read online

  “A few days ago, and I’m still mad at her about it. She could have at least let me witness, or help her pick out some shoes, or something.”

  I nodded like she could see me. “Yeah, but knowing her, it was impulsive. They probably just ran down and did it, but I’m still tripping on this. They were high school sweethearts, I know, but married?”

  “Well you’ll have to talk to her about that. What time is your flight?”

  “I have no idea. I’ll let you know when I check the tickets again.”

  “Okay baby keep me updated. And I’ll confirm your date for the reception so you don’t even have to worry about it okay bye.”

  “Whooaaaa! I told you, I don’t need a date, mama.”

  “And I told you that you do, so if you don’t have one, one will be provided for you.”

  “But I have one,” I blurted out, before I considered the implication of those words. I could already imagine her face lighting up at the prospect, so to kill that dream before it started, I explained, “Not like… romantic though. I’ll find a friend or something to come with me, so I don’t mess up your table count, or whatever you’re doing. But under no circumstances do you need to arrange a date for me, okay?”

  The excitement in her voice was apparent when she answered. “Oh, okay. A friend, of course.” She giggled. “Does this friend stand up, or sit down when—”

  “Okay well I’ll see you in a few days mama, love you,” I said, then hit the button on my phone to end the call. I pulled my earbuds out, and then stood there for a second thinking about what I’d done.

  I’d really just pulled some romantic comedy shit, and I wasn’t amused with myself.

  “Ebbie!”

  My own troubles immediately slipped my mind as I heard that familiar voice, and I turned around with a smile on my face. I knew it was coming, but still flinched as twenty pounds of toddler latched onto my leg, hugging me tight before I reached to pick her up.

  “Hey baby gorgeous,” I told her, giving Bellamy a playful frown as she planted a slobbery kiss on the side of my face. “And mama gorgeous,” I added, extending my free arm to hug Viv as she approached. I wasn’t the only one who’d gotten a haircut – Viv had cut off most of her curls and gone to a straightened, honey blonde bob. She was already a bombshell, but with the new cut, she was capital-f fine as hell.

  “You are paying for ours too, right?” she teased, and I glanced down at the cart full of groceries she’d parked beside mine, and shook my head.

  “Heck no,” I answered, censoring myself in front of the baby. “I should be trying to put some of my stuff in your cart.”

  She laughed, and glanced at mine. “You are eating light this week. There is nothing in this cart except water and liquor!”

  “Oh, it’s this new detox I’m trying,” I told her, making her laugh. “Nah, seriously, you know Erika’s graduation – and apparently, wedding reception – is this weekend. I don’t want to buy groceries for just a few days.”

  “Understandable. But, ah… wedding reception? I thought it was a college graduation?”

  “Same thing I said.” I shook my head. “Up and married her high school sweetheart, but E has always been like that, just going wherever the mood strikes.”

  “This sounds familiar,” Viv laughed, and I frowned, then looked over to Bellamy.

  “Bell, do you hear that?” I asked, tickling her little stomach to set off a round of giggles. “You hear your mama throwing shade at me?”

  “That’s not nice mama,” Bellamy scolded her, earning me a sharp side-eye from Viv. “Do not try to turn my child against me. Especially when you are still on thin ice for cutting off your hair. No matter how good the new cut looks, I do not forgive you.”

  “Yes you do,” I said, leaning to kiss her cheek before I handed Bellamy back to her.

  She scowled at me for a second before it broke into a smile. “You are right. I do. I cannot stay mad at a face like this,” she mused, then looked down at Bell. “Or this one.”

  “Ebbie. Park!” Bell said, reaching for me again.

  Obviously, I accepted her little embrace. “We’ll go one day when I get back from my trip, okay?”

  Wearing a big smile, she nodded, then wiggled until I lowered her back to the floor, where she proceeded to play around her mother’s legs.

  “Always, with the energy,” Viv laughed – a sight that was good to see, considering that she’d dealt with some pretty tough baby blues when Bellamy was born. Now, she’d settled into motherhood – and into being a wife – and it was obvious just from the serenity of her expression that she’d found some security in both roles. “Ah! Will I see you before your flight? I need to make an amendment to the card I gave to you for her graduation, if she is married now as well.”

  “Chips and margaritas Thursday night, right? Flight isn’t until Friday morning.”

  “Perfect. I will see you then.”

  I tossed a wave at her and Bellamy, then went on my way. Bellamy and Viv had been a great distraction, but I’d only made it a few steps before I remembered the problem I’d walked myself into on the phone with my mother. If I didn’t have somebody – anybody – on my arm this weekend, she would be trying to hook me up with every single man or woman in a ten-mile radius.

  Damn. Should have asked Viv.

  It didn’t have to be romantic, because my mother didn’t listen. Hell, I could take married ass, heterosexual ass Carter with me, tell her the man had a wife and child, and she would still serve up coy smiles and ask about the sleeping arrangements. Even knowing my sexuality, she kept up her Black mama clichés. The woman wanted grandchildren, and if she could help it, she was going to get them.

  So hopefully Erika was knocked up, which would explain the quickie wedding.

  In any case – I couldn’t take Viv. Or Simone, or Charlie, for that matter. For one, they had kids, families. The “last minute trip” stuff wasn’t in their lifestyle anymore. And – hilariously – for two, it was finally starting to sink in to these men that “Eddie is bisexual” was not the same thing as “Eddie is homosexual”. From getting to know me over the years – shooting the shit in the barbershop, talking shit on the basketball court, kicking it at UG – they’d begun to understand that though there was a low probability, there was still a possibility that the friendships I had with their women could turn friends-to-lovers. I loved women, and women loved me. It was either very platonic, or very sexual, no in-between with me.

  Nobody was exempt.

  So, with that, even though I wasn’t interested in any of their married asses that way… asking them on a solo trip to LA probably wasn’t a great move.

  Priya though…

  Hmmm.

  She wasn’t married yet, or even dating anybody seriously as far as I knew. But… if I took her with me, who was going to look after the shop? Certainly not William, who would turn my shop into the set of Beyonce’s Blow video if I let him. And not Allison, who would have the place full of sad pale white boys in black eyeliner.

  Nah, I needed Priya’s presence at the shop, to keep the other artists balanced.

  And, besides that, though she was brown, which would soften the blow, she wasn’t Black, which would be a whole other can of worms in my family. I’d rather let my mother fix me up than deal with that.

  From the looks of things… that’s exactly what was going to happen.

  Shit.

  &

  “You know you could join me, instead of just watching, right?” Astrid asked, pushing her upper body into a cobra pose that made her ass just look… grabbable. Like she knew what I was thinking, she tossed a grin over her shoulder before she pushed back into downward dog, then brought one leg forward in another one of those impossible stretches. Like a lunge, but she brought her upper half to the floor, which put her at a position where her pussy was just… right there.

  “I thought you didn’t like interruptions while you were practicing,” I said, pushing my hands into my pocke
ts as I ambled over to her. She was the one who’d initiated tonight, had texted me to come over. But instead of getting right into what I’d expected to get right into, after she let me in… she’d gone to her mat.

  I wasn’t complaining though.

  Watching her reminded me of a good strip club, like Arch&Point up in Connecticut. It was erotic, but not vulgar. It was sexy, and artistic, and it would take a lot for me to admit out loud that I would sit and watch her all night.

  But I would.

  “It’s only an interruption if you’re not invited,” she explained. “And the morning practice you saw me doing a few times isn’t the same as what I’m doing now.”

  I stopped in front of her, sitting down in the windowsill. “How is it different?”

  “Well,” she started, then moved through a series of transitions that brought her down to the floor. “My morning practice is for waking my body up, for mentally preparing for the day. This…” She transitioned into a split, one leg in front, the other behind. “Is me preparing my body to bend and stretch any way you want me.”

  Fuck.

  “To swear you aren’t a witch, you sure do have your spell weaving tactics down.”

  She laughed. “I’ve told you. It’s not weaving a spell… just being honest. I texted you for a reason – reason being, my appreciation of your dick. No point in pretending now.”

  “Damn,” I said, getting up to approach her mat. When I reached the edge, I kneeled down as she pulled herself to a seated position, with her legs crisscrossed in front of her. “Appreciation, huh? That’s how you feel?”

  She smirked. “Only about your dick. You? You’re aiight, I guess.”

  “I’m fucking amazing and you know it,” I said, leaning into her, making her grin.

  “Your dick is amazing. I know nothing about whatever else you’re talking about.”

  Her hands immediately came up to wrap around my neck when I kissed her. She moved with me as I lowered her to the mat, immediately locking her legs around my waist.

  “You taste like strawberries,” she murmured, when I dropped my mouth to her neck.

  “Margaritas,” I grunted into her skin, and for some reason, she went a little stiff. When I looked up, she was frowning a little.

  “Margaritas? Really?” she tipped her head to the side a bit, and gave a subtle shake of her head. “I always thought of you as a dark liquor type of guy.”

  Balanced over her, I shrugged. “Yeah, that’s my preference, but I mean… I like alcohol, period. I was with Viv and Simone. They do margaritas, so I drink what they drink.”

  Her expression shifted to a thoughtful pout, and she nodded. “Makes sense. Do you do that a lot? Adapt to the crowd? Like, so often, we don’t completely relax around someone who might – even vaguely – be sexually interested in us. Like, straight men don’t usually act the same around straight women, and vice versa. But I’ve seen lesbians fit in fine with straight men, and gay men fit with straight women. But usually, women, if we think there’s someone in the room that might want to sleep with us, we’re… a little more “on”, not quite as relaxed. And I know for a fact that men do this too, the posturing, and bragging, all of that. But… you fit in with both, I’ve seen it. The guys completely accept you, the women completely accept you. It’s so interesting.”

  Shaking my head, I laughed. “Shit, I don’t know. Maybe. Yeah? Doesn’t everybody adapt to their environment? Like code-switching? I can relax around any type of group, and still be… Eddie. I’m me, no matter where I am.”

  “Do you think it’s because you’re bi? Like, you can talk sports and women with the guys, and then have margaritas with the women. Like the best of both worlds.”

  I scoffed. “I mean… if you’re looking for a silver lining, I guess. But really, that best of both worlds shit is a fallacy. The differences aren’t that damn big. Men and women are both annoying.”

  “Hey,” she said, playfully swatting my arm. “I’m not annoying.”

  “That’s what you think?” I laughed, and she rolled her eyes. “Seriously, if you want to talk about best of both worlds… that’s you. Nobody gives a shit about a woman being bi. Your femininity isn’t in question. They don’t think you’re confused, or “exploring”. They think that shit is sexy.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, and then shook her head. “Okay, I can’t deny that part, but, I’ve lost customers at the studio, have people giving me crazy looks. Men come at me any type of way, when they know. The worst are the ones – hell, men and women – who think they’re going to make me “choose a side”. And the sex… always makes me want the other side.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, that’s my experience too. Instead of just letting it be, letting it flow, they get on some extra shit that they can’t back up, and wasn’t even necessary in the first place.”

  I met her eyes as she trailed her hands up the back of my neck to cup my head. “Guess some experiences are just… universal.”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Guess so.” For a moment, neither of us said anything, but the air started getting too heavy for me to tolerate, and I shook my head. “Okay, so… you want to continue this therapy session, or you want this dick?”

  Astrid wrinkled her nose at me, laughing for a second before her expression turned serious.

  “Why do you still have on your clothes?”

  &

  She was examining me.

  That was really the best way I could think of to describe it.

  It was the middle of the night, but instead of sleeping, she had her bedside lamp switched on as her fingers glided over my skin, tracing the lines of my tattoos. Absorbing me, like she was committing me to her conscious.

  Somehow, it didn’t feel creepy.

  “You’re really beautiful, you know?” she asked, sitting up on her knees beside me on the bed. “Like… head to toe. It’s remarkable.”

  I grinned. “Outer beauty to make up for being a terrible person.”

  “You are not,” she scolded, running her fingers along the defined “V” where my pelvis dipped in. “Don’t manifest that.”

  My eyebrows raised, surprised. “I treated you like shit until what… a month and a half ago? I’m not sure why you’re defending me.”

  “You were rude to me, slick at the mouth. But you didn’t treat me badly. I’m not defending you either, that’s just how I saw it. And… I know why you were like that too.”

  I shifted positions, propping my hands behind my head. “Enlighten me.”

  “Fear.” She shrugged, then walked her fingers up my stomach. “You were intensely attracted to me, ever since that day Charlie brought you with her to my office, to do the new graphics for Pot Liquor. But I’m not one of those model-skinny, trimmed and polished, fashionable women you like to rack up as trophies. So it scared you.”

  I narrowed my eyes, leery of her accuracy. “What makes you figure that?”

  “Nothing tangible,” she answered, straddling me. “Just… based on my own observations, and soaking up Quinn’s budding psychology. Am I wrong though? Tell me.” She spread her legs wide, leaning back to make sure I had a good view. “When is the last time you were with a woman who wasn’t waxed bare?”

  I laughed, and then my hands were on her, stroking a thumb through that patch of soft, neatly trimmed hair before I pressed it to her clit. “Not going to lie to you… it’s been a minute.”

  “See?” she panted, closing her eyes as I began to circle my thumb on her. “I was… a disruption, and you were fighting it. Eclectic style, big personality, creative job, but… a very organized guy.”

  “That’s me?”

  She bit her lip, and nodded. “That’s you. Not wanting to buck the system that you’ve developed for yourself, the system that works.” She opened her eyes, moving her hands to my chest. “So what changed? Why’d you stop being so hostile to the disruption?”

  I hooked my arms under her legs, pulling her forward so that I could inhale the sweetness
between her thighs. “Because… a disruption was exactly what I needed.”

  I’d thought about it long and hard over the last few days, trying to figure it out. My shift in demeanor towards her, the shift in how I viewed her, had come across so quickly that it baffled me. But really… it wasn’t that strange.

  Just like when I’d gone running that day, and hit that crossroads and decided to do something different. Like changing my hair, or trying a different coffee, and all the other small changes. It was all with the hope that I would get back to a place where I felt grounded, where I felt… peace.

  Fighting this attraction for as long as I had, had been anything but peaceful. So I was doing something different. Like, instead of insulting her, urging her to hold on to the headboard while I dove face first between her legs.

  So far, it was working out well for me.

  Afterwards, I didn’t even flinch when she snuggled into my side, eyes closed, leg draped across me. She wasn’t asleep, and wasn’t pretending to be. She was recovering. But…

  “I have to go,” I told her, running a hand across her back. She turned those big brown eyes at me with a look so seductive I was ready to change my mind. “I have a flight to catch in a few hours.”

  A little smile crept onto her face. “Seriously? Me too.” She pulled herself up, putting her arms out to stretch. “Going to L.A. for my little sister’s show.”

  “For real? I’m heading to Cali too. For my little sister’s graduation… and wedding reception.”

  She laughed. “Why did I imagine you as an only child?”

  “Probably the self-centeredness.”

  “You’re probably right,” she giggled, climbing down from the bed.

  Following her lead, I got up too, debating on using her shower, or going home first. “What does your sister do?” I asked, collecting my clothes from the floor. The rest were out in the living room. When she didn’t answer, I looked up to see her at the door to the bathroom, looking at me like I was out of my mind. “What?”

  “You’re serious?” she asked, and when I nodded, she shook her head. “Pixie. Mega star singer, platinum hair… “Pixie Bad Ass”? I know you know who she is.”