Better Than Okay (22 page)

“Don’t let him take this from you.”

She swallowed and nodded. He was right.
As
usual.

“Okay,” she said, softly.

The smile he gave her made her want to say “Okay” a million more
times.

“I’ll pick you up at seven, cool?”

She nodded again. “Oh no,” she said suddenly. “I kinda forgot
about Ray. I feel bad leaving her alone at the house.”

He shook his head. “D’s
gonna
take her to
the movies or somewhere,” he said, smirking.

“You thought of everything.”

“Don’t I always?” he asked, grinning cockily. She rolled her eyes.

“I’ll see you later,” she said.

She leaned over the console and pecked his lips. Or she meant to.
The second their mouths touched it was like a current ignited and she pressed
into him, oblivious to the fact that they were in a car, in broad daylight, in
plain sight. He cupped the nape of her neck, pulling her closer and once again
she felt like she was drowning. But this time she wanted to.

He pulled back reluctantly after a minute and pressed his forehead
to hers.

“You better go before Sacramento sends someone looking for you,”
he murmured.

She burst out laughing and he kissed the tip of her nose.

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” she tossed over her shoulder as she
hurriedly scooted out of the car.

She took a deep breath and hurried back inside, even more anxious
to finish the day.

* * *

Thursday,
1:34 a.m.

I saw Foreign Exchange tonight.
They were dope. But really, I’m writing about it because it’s the first time
I’ve been to a concert since that night. I’ve missed it. I almost forgot what
it was like to get totally lost in the moment, letting the music creep through
your skin, filling you with its rhythm. Damn. This Cathartic Ass Journal is
really making me poetic tonight. I just… I felt good. It’s been a while since
I’ve really felt that way. At first I didn’t think I was going to be able to
get out of the car. But Vanessa showed me a few ways to calm myself down when I
feel like I’m about to have a panic attack… some breathing techniques. I felt
kind of stupid doing it in front of Brian, even though he got pissed that I
would even feel that way. Anyways, I needed to go to that concert. I needed to
put that behind me. To say I did it. Brian was right. He’s just so… I dunno.
He’s what I need. He knows what I need before I even know I need it. Did that
make sense? Probably not. I love that he doesn’t ever tell me it will “all be
okay” or that I “just have to get through it day-by-day” or whatever other
clichés people like to spout out. He’s just there. Just… being. I think that’s
what I love so much about him. He doesn’t have to try. He just… is.
 

Chapter 19

If Destiny had to pick a time period to be born in it definitely
would’ve been the seventies. Before CIA crack invaded the streets, before
reality television deluded everyone into believing they were interesting enough
to be filmed doing things like shopping for antiques or digging through storage
units, before social media made unbridled narcissism an acceptable
characteristic, before the 24-hour news cycle, and before people stopped
talking to text.

“What are you thinking about?”

She jumped, her hands flying to her heart, the sound of Brian’s
voice yanking her out of her thoughts. He laughed at her reaction, shaking his
head as he wrinkled his brow.

“You do know I’ve been sitting here with you for the past hour,
right?” he asked, still chuckling as he arched an eyebrow at her.

She was sitting on his bedroom floor folding his clothes,
listening to Curtis Mayfield, Isaac Hayes, and Marvin Gaye on a Saturday night,
and she didn’t even care. Actually she couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d
rather be. She threw a sock at him and rolled her eyes. He was at his desk,
doing some extra work and to be honest, he was so quiet she’d kind of zoned out
on him.

“I was thinking I wish I was born in the seventies when life was
simpler and before the world went to hell in a hand basket and became such a
shitty place.”

He chuckled. “There were still shitty things going on in the
seventies, love,” he told her, leaning back in his chair and stretching his
arms above his head. He dropped his arms and grinned at her. “It’s just we
weren’t as connected so less people knew about all of the worldwide
shittiness.”

She grinned and picked up one of his t-shirts, folding it neatly and
placing it in the growing pile. He’d insisted he didn’t need her to fold his
laundry but she’d brushed him off. Between spending so much time with her and
his never-ending job, she felt like folding some shirts was the least she could
do. She’d also cleaned their bathroom, mostly because if she was going to be
visiting a lot, she needed to be able to pee on a clean toilet.

Isaac Hayes’s “Do Your Thing” came on and she automatically
smiled, watching as Brian playfully sang the words.
 

She joined him on the chorus, singing loudly, totally
off-tune.
 
“
Cause whatever you wanna do, you gotta do your thang…
”

She laughed. “I dunno. The music was better in the
seventies.”
 

He nodded agreeably. “True.”

She sighed dramatically. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t really
belong here. Like, in this time period,” she said, glancing up at him. “You
know?”

He paused, considering her. “But if you were alive in the
seventies, you’d be kind of a pervert for hanging out with me.”

“Who said I’d be hanging out with you still?”

He grinned and shrugged. “You’re my Destiny, baby,” he said
easily. “It’s a done deal.”

Laughter sputtered out of her and she covered her mouth, trying
unsuccessfully to hold it in.

“You are so corny,” she said between giggles. “How long did it
take for you to come up with that?”

He grinned and threw the sock she’d tossed at him earlier back at
her. “Free styled it.”

She smiled and shook her head at him just as her phone buzzed.
“Ray,” she said, reading the text aloud. “She made it to Tallahassee.”

She sent her back a smiley face, already missing her. She’d left
earlier that morning and her apartment had gone from feeling full of life and
energy to silent and empty in a matter of minutes. Destiny had almost cried
when she left, especially when Raven gave her a new yoga video for her “in
between days.” She thought Dorian might cry too. Well, not really. But he did
look a little sad and had insisted on taking them to the airport.

Brian of course, was at work, doing catch-up on a Saturday. He
yawned and stretched, leaning his head back against his chair and closing his
eyes.

“Tired?” she asked unnecessarily, grabbing the last shirt out of
the laundry basket and folding it.

The circles under his eyes gave his fatigue away. He shrugged, his
eyes still closed.

“A little.”

“I can go,” she glanced at the time on her phone. It was almost
eleven.
 
“It’s late anyway.”

He opened his eyes, his head still resting comfortably against the
chair’s headrest. “Or you can stay.”

“The night?” she asked dumbly.

He grinned and shook his head. “Yes, the night, Destiny. I really
don’t want you driving home this late by yourself anyway.”

She looked at the t-shirt in her hands, considering his offer.

“It’s just an offer to sleep, cutie pie. Nothing else.”

She looked up at him. She didn’t want to push anything. But she
wanted to stay with him even more.

“If you really want to go home, I’ll trail you. But we’ve slept
together millions of times, right?”

She grinned, eyeing him. “Yes, but that was before I noticed your
eyelashes.”

He laughed and got up, heading toward his dresser.

“I need you to stop talking about my eyelashes.” He took out a
t-shirt and a pair of shorts. “It’s weird.”

She giggled, holding his folded shirt in her lap. He walked over
to her and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

“I’m hopping in the shower.”

A second later he was gone and she heard the water start in the
bathroom across the hall. She got up and put his freshly folded clothes in his
dresser then headed to Dorian’s room to use the master bath since he was out
doing Lord knows what with Pink Dress.

She entered Brian’s room fifteen minutes later, freshly scrubbed
and relaxed in one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers. He was perched on the
edge of the bed in a ribbed tank top and basketball shorts. She hungrily took
in the expanse of his chest and definition of his arms, her eyes falling on his
NEEMA tattoo. His arms were on his knees and he was sending a text. He frowned
then put the phone on the nightstand beside the bed and ran a hand over his
head.

“You
alright
?” she asked crossing the
room, sitting next to him.

“Yep.”

She looked at him, reading the worry and stress on his face.

“I tell you my stuff,” she said pointedly.

He sighed and ran a hand over his head again. “Lexi just told me
she needed some extra money because she trying to do cheerleading camp. Clara
didn’t even mention she needed extra this month.”

“You send them money every month?” Destiny asked, surprised.

He nodded. “They need the help. My mom and Lex’s dad aren’t in the
position to do anything. So, yeah.”

 
He shrugged as if it
was nothing. As if that was his job. She looked at him, loving him so much she
wondered if it was emitting from her skin. He caught her staring at him and
released a breath.

“You keep looking at me like that and I may not be able to keep my
word,” he teased her, his voice low.

He brushed a finger over the tip of her nose and she grinned,
embarrassed.

“I can’t help it,” she murmured. “You’re the shit.”

The corners of his mouth quirked up.
“You think I’m the shit?” His eyes were a
mixture of amusement and desire.

She nodded, grinning.

“It’s kind of funny when you say ‘shit,’” he admitted.

She wrinkled her brow. “Why?”

He shrugged then grinned crookedly. “You’re so damn sweet and
cute… it’s just funny to hear it come out of your mouth.”

“I’ve always said ‘shit’ though, Brian.”

“And it’s always been funny.” He chuckled at her expression.

“Will you do something for me?” she asked.

“What?” he questioned warily, eyeing her eager expression.

She looked towards the guitar in the far corner of the room and he
immediately shook his head.

“Come on, Brian, just something really short,” she pressed,
raising up on her knees and hanging herself over his shoulder. She kissed the
side of his face.

“I haven’t played in forever,” he said, shaking his head.

“Please,” she pressed, meeting his eyes. She bit her lip and he
sighed resignedly.

“Yay!” she said, clapping as she bounced on the bed.

He shook his head and got up to turn down the music and grab the
guitar, before returning to the edge of the bed.

“What do you want to hear?” he asked with exaggerated
exasperation.

She knew he was kind of enjoying making her feel bad. She
shrugged, still smiling broadly.

“Whatever you want to play.”

He shook his head again then began tuning the guitar. After a few
seconds he strummed it softly, checking the sound. She leaned her back against
the headboard, watching him. She smiled when he began playing the familiar
chords to Bill Withers’s “Ain’t No Sunshine.”

He fingers moved over the guitar confidently. He was controlling
the instrument with ease totally comfortable commanding its gentle sound as the
solemn chords reverberated through the space soulfully. He was better—way
better—than she remembered. He glanced at her and smiled and she felt her
stomach tighten in arousal. Good Lord. He was so fine. She smiled more broadly,
biting her lip as she watched him.

“
Ain’t
no sunshine when you’re gone
…” he
started singing, grinning playfully at her, changing the words to fit her. “
It’s not warm when you’re away
…”

She giggled as he started bopping his head, still strumming as he
sang the words. She knew he was playing around but he could actually sing, his
husky baritone sliding over the words silkily.

“…
Ain’t
no sunshine when you’re gone and you’re
always gone too long, any time you go away
…”

She smiled, biting her lip as he continued singing. He grinned,
watching as she scooted herself to the edge of the bed once he was finished.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek before making herself pull away.

“That was hot,” she admitted, sitting back, crossing her legs
under her,
trying
to keep her raging hormones in
check. She couldn’t stop her eyes from sliding over him again.

“So, am I officially hotter than Prince?” he teased, his voice
low.

She shook her head, biting her lip again.

“Take your shirt off and play. Then we’ll see.”

He chuckled and pushed himself off of the bed to put the guitar
back on its stand, turning the music back on low. She was still watching him
hungrily. She knew she shouldn’t be, but damn.

“It’s going to be really hard to just sleep with you tonight,
after that,” she admitted.

He shook his head as he crossed the room to turn off the light and
shut the door.

“If I woulda known that’s all it took, I would’ve played it for
you two years ago,” he teased.

She giggled and pulled back his dark blue comforter and sheets and
crawled underneath, immediately remembering that she actually loved his bed. It
was so comfortable. He crawled in beside her, and pulled her tightly against
his chest. He draped his arm across her waist and interlaced his fingers with
hers.

She squirmed against him, totally awake and he nipped the back of
her neck lightly.

“Stop wiggling on me and go to sleep, cutie pie,” he murmured
deeply.

She could feel his arousal against her and wondered where he was
getting his self-control.

“Where are you getting your self-control from?” she asked aloud.
She bit the inside of her cheek, thoroughly embarrassed.

“I’ve had a long time to practice,” he answered immediately.
 
“But it’s still really… hard.”

She laughed, her face blushing at his deliberate double entendre.

“When did you figure out that you even liked me like that?” she
asked curiously.

“Is it important?” he asked.

“No. I’m just curious.”

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful,” he admitted after a long
silence. “Even when I didn’t really know I did.”

She frowned in confusion but he kept talking.

“I’ve been attracted to you since high school. I’ve wanted you
since you were a freshman in college. I knew I loved you a couple of years ago
around the time you graduated. And I knew I was in love with you last year when
you came home during Easter.”

Her face was on fire, despite the fact that she’d been holding her
breath the entire time he was talking.

“Wow,” she breathed.

He pulled her tighter against him.

“You know how many times we’ve slept together since the first time
I admitted to myself that I wanted you?”