Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 142866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“I hope so.” She glances at me, her look rueful and uncertain. “With Hendrix heading back to Atlanta next week, not sure when.”
I keep my features neutral, but Aunt Geneva and I need to continue our discussion about things that need to change. One of them is living arrangements. I draw a breath, already bracing myself for that tough talk. Neither my mother nor my aunt will want to hear what I have to say, but it has to be said. It won’t be easy, but after the scare we had, I think we at least have to consider it.
“You okay?” Maverick asks, settling back beside me on the couch once Aunt Geneva leaves.
“Of course.” I shoot him a quick smile.
“You just looked…” He shrugs. “Kind of sad for a second there.”
“Yeah.” I sigh, forgetting how closely Maverick watches me, how in tune he can be to what I’m feeling. “Just some hard conversations we need to have about what’s next.”
“I figured as much.”
I lay my palm against the hard, stubbled line of his jaw and smile. “That is not what I want to talk about in your last few minutes here.”
“I don’t want to go.” He leans forward and presses his forehead to mine. “Don’t want to leave you.”
“Come to the A when you’re done.”
“I will.” He frowns. “But first I want to hear what Kenan Ross and these guys he’s pulled together have to say.”
“These are all owners in the league?”
“Yeah. My team has been digging like gophers into Andy. Looking for anything we can use against him.”
“Anything surfaced?”
Taking Andy Carverson down won’t solve Aspire’s lawsuit problem, but watching him fall would give me the tiniest pop of petty joy in a dire situation.
“We’ve unearthed several former Vipers employees whose accusations of discrimination were shut down,” Maverick says. “Women who complained of sexual harassment were threatened, lost their jobs, were manipulated into silence. Black folks who left the company citing a hostile workplace. There’s something there, and I won’t stop looking until we’ve found all of it. And once we do…” A grim smile sketches lines around Maverick’s full lips. “Once we do, I’mma run his ass out the league and get my team not only cheaper than before, but without having to keep him on the board. Watch and see.”
“I believe you. I believe in you.”
I take his mouth in a kiss that burns so hot it incinerates the last of my doubts, and it tastes like hope and tenderness. It is sweet on my tongue. When his hand slips under my T-shirt to knead my breast, I bite my lip to suppress the moan making its way up my throat. Mama is a light sleeper, and I can’t count on whatever choir Aunt Geneva is ending the day with to drown out my screams. I pull away, both of us gasping with the quick-building passion that seems even more intense since we said we loved each other.
“You sure you don’t want to come back to the hotel with me tonight?” He pants into my neck, his fingers skimming my spine and making me shiver.
“I want to.” I breathe out a laugh and kiss along his jaw. “But I don’t have much time left here before I’m back in Atlanta. We’ll make up for it when you come next week.”
“I already miss you,” he whispers with a kiss.
“I didn’t think missing someone before they’re gone was a thing.” I wrap my arms around his waist and press close. “But you’ve proved me wrong.”
“You miss him already, too?” I ask Sheila E later that night out in the backyard with her while she does her business. She squats and blinks at me like I should look away and give her some privacy. “You probably don’t know him well enough yet to miss him, but you will.”
We step into the kitchen and I open the refrigerator, contemplating a late-night square of Aunt Geneva’s lasagna.
“It’s even better the next day.” I lift the foil from the pan slotted between other dishes. “And, yes, I know technically she just cooked it today, but you know what I mean.”
Sheila E settles into the bed I keep in here for her and falls into a light snooze. A muffled sound makes me pause reaching for a plate. I leave the kitchen, guided to the living room by the sound of soft footsteps and muttered speech. Mama paces in front of the living room window, every few seconds stopping to pull the curtain back.
“I told that man,” Mama mutters, the lapels of her robe gripped between her fingers as she walks a worn path in front of the window. “Old stubborn fool.”
Oh, please no.
My shoulders droop and my heart plummets. There is a part of me that wants to run and bring Aunt Geneva to handle this, for her to be the one who steps back in time to one of the most painful nights of our family’s history and bring Mama home.