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)
It’s only as the words leave my mouth that I realize how true they are. All my life I’ve been the guy who needed things lined up, tight, set in motion just so. I had goals and very little swayed or distracted me from them. I’m a chaser; always have been looking for the next goal, the next achievement, the next risk and high. I got it all, and somehow it still was never enough. Loving her, being with her—the only thing I can’t get enough of is this. Is us.
“Hey.” I put my hands over hers to still the whisking. “Look at me for a sec.”
She turns, leaning against the counter and linking her arms over my shoulders and around my neck.
“I’ll never finish breakfast if you start feeling me up and slapping my ass.”
I laugh, gripping her hips and giving her a little shake. “I promise to let you get back to my breakfast.”
“Don’t get used to it.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m not spoiling you.”
“That’s where we differ because I’m gonna spoil your ass rotten.”
The laughter fades in her expression. “You know I joke a lot about gifts and stuff, but I don’t need any of that. I just want you.”
“I know.” I run the back of my hand over the high curve of her cheekbone. “But I want to give you everything, Hen. You work hard. Let me make things soft for you.”
“Maybe a little then,” she says, smirking.
“It’s bad business to let the person on the other side of the negotiating table know they can have anything they want.” I gently cup her face and hold her eyes so she can read the absolute truth of what I’m saying. “But that’s what I want you to know. And I don’t just mean jewelry or gifts. I’m giving you my whole heart, Hendrix.”
Any lingering traces of humor disappear from her face and she links our hands, pressing them to her heart. Telling her this is one of the most vulnerable moments of my life. Loving someone this way feels like giving them a blank check and telling them they can fill it up with zeros. That there is no limit, but that’s how I feel when I’m with Hendrix.
“Mav, I…” She blinks at tears and swallows hard. “I’ve seen this before with other people. My parents and my friends, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever find someone who accepted me just as I am and loved me no matter what. I’m not easy.”
I lift her chin and meet her eyes.
“Falling in love with you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” I tell her. “It happened before I even realized it. I just knew you were the most fascinating woman I’d ever met and I wanted to know you. I wanted us to be friends, and then I wanted us to be everything.”
She presses our foreheads together and nods, a few tears slipping past her closed eyelids. I brush away her tears with my thumbs. We have hard days ahead. The shit with the Vipers. Aspire’s legal issues. The long inevitability of her mother’s journey with Alzheimer’s. Not to mention a bicoastal relationship. If we thought us getting together was complicated, we ain’t seen nothing yet. Staying together will hold new challenges, but that unassailable joy I saw in Hendrix out on that dance floor the night we met tells me there is no one I’d rather face hard times with. The world can take its best shots. My girl’s a fighter, and when she’s knocked down she gets back up. I want to stand with her in her convictions. I want to hold her when grief or sorrow knocks at her door. I want to dance with her when life serves up celebrations.
I wasn’t looking for this—what we have, what we’re building—because I didn’t know it was possible. Not for me, but this woman had me looking, had me searching, had me chasing.
I caught her.
She caught me.
And now, thank God, there’s no letting go.
EPILOGUE
HENDRIX
“Let her walk into every room like a hymn sung high, a Black woman named Beloved, hips swaying like the gospel beat she was born to… I want love to arrive freely for her—
like light breaking into a room at dawn,
gentle but sure, a thing hers without labor.”
—Frederick T. Joseph, “A Black Woman Named Beloved”
This night has been a long time coming.”
My words feel like such an understatement as I look out over the crowd assembled in Sky Park and gesture to the large screen set up behind me.
“I’m so excited to share an early screening of this new television show with our friends and family right here in Skyland before it airs on network TV in a few days.”
I pause for the crowd’s applause before going on.
“Many of you know its star from her online videos. You’ve seen her charisma, infectious spirit, and ability to do just about anything,” I say. “It’s what drew millions to her, but it’s her heart that makes them stay.”