[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
mischievous smile. Which part?
A small laugh escapes. Good point, Pinks, but I was referring to meeting your parents.
Yeah. I just wish I was feeling better. And what the hell was Tommy wearing? As soon as I
got a whiff of him I wanted to throw up.
I laugh again. I love being around Charlotte. She is so honest and blunt. It s nice to be around a
woman and not have to guess what she is thinking.
I m sorry you re not feeling yourself, baby girl. Since dinner went so well, how about as soon
as you are up for it, we make plans with my family? They are bugging the shit out of me to meet you
already. This time I give her hand the squeeze.
She is staring out her window, not saying a word, like she has completely zoned out.
Charlotte?
Yeah, babe?
Did you hear me? I want you to meet my family.
Um& Yeah& I heard. Do you really think that s a good idea? she asks, still looking away.
Of course I do. Why would you ask that?
I& do you& are you sure they will be okay with me& being white& she starts to ask, but I cut
her off midsentence.
I raise my hand to her chin and tilt it so that she is looking me right in the eyes when I tell her,
Charlotte, they are going to love you because of you, not because of the color of your skin. My
parents are very open minded and accepting. Love is love. Where would you even get that idea?
Charlotte looks down, pretending to pick nonexistent lint off her dress. Aisha.
Are you fucking kidding me? She is always so confident and self-assured. I didn t think that the
bullshit Aisha was spouting at her even reached her ears. She didn t seem that affected by her racist
ranting. I thought she was more pissed at the fact that we ran into another ex. Fuck me!
I pull the car over because I have to make sure what I have to say gets across to her. I unbuckle
her seatbelt and grab her by the waist, dragging her into my lap quickly, before she has the time to
protest. We lock eyes, and there is no question that she is paying attention. One hand on her cheek,
the other stroking her hair, I know what needs to be said. It s time.
Black, white, or yellow. Christian, Jewish, or Buddhist. Doesn t matter. On your absolute
worst day, you are a better woman - a better person - than she could ever wish to be on her best day.
There is no comparison. She is not in the same league as you. Not even on the same planet. She
knows it, and tried to use the only thing that she could grasp at your color- and tried to use it as a
weapon. But, you, Charlotte Fisher, are perfect, just as you are. Beautiful, intelligent, caring, loyal,
honest, funny as hell, and& white. And I love you. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can t
believe that I just said that. Five years with Aisha and I never spoke those three words.
I open my eyes and she is just staring at me. Shit! I am freaking out. She says nothing.
Too much too soon? I ask nervously. I feel like such a dickhead.
Charlotte doesn t say a word, but shakes her head in the negative. She then wraps her tiny hands
around my neck, leans forward, and kisses me like her life depends on it. Then much too quickly for
my liking, she leans back, both of us completely out of breath, and meets my eyes again. I am
saddened momentarily when I notice the tears running down her face. I use my thumbs to wipe the
tear tracks, as she leans forward once again and whispers against my lips, I love you, too.
Chapter Ten
Charlotte
I am so excited for Delilah s bachelorette party. It has been a crappy few weeks and I have been
in a funky mood. Calvin probably thinks I am chronically PMS ing, but I m not. He also probably
thinks that I have been avoiding meeting his parents, but I honestly haven t. I can t help it if every time
we are supposed to go to their house for dinner I get sick. It s not like I am doing it on purpose, like I
enjoy feeling this way. I can t seem to shake this damn virus. I am finding it increasingly more
difficult to stomach my meals, and what does go down, doesn t usually stay down. It s making me
tired and irritable.
On top of dealing with all of that, I found out that DeShawn s parole was actually granted. Can
you believe that shit? Anyway, when my dad told me, I started to freak out. But he reassured me a
little when he told me that he was on house arrest and was only permitted to leave to go to work,
court, or to a doctor. Even then, he needed permission from his parole officer. Oh, and I have a
permanent restraining order against him so he can t come within 500 feet of me, my home, or my
work. Still, I have been having trouble shaking the nervous feeling in my gut, and I guess I have been
taking it out on everyone around me, including Calvin. But the buck stops here, tonight. It is time for
me to have fun again and live my life to the fullest.
Calvin is sitting in my living room watching TV while I finish getting ready. I am almost dressed
when I hear him shout, Let s go, woman! What s taking so long?
I am working on it! It s takes time to look this good, I holler back.
I am actually almost ready. I am wearing my favorite black skinny jeans and a black corseted top
with hot pink laces, which make my boobs look awesome. And a little bigger than usual. Hmm. No
complaints about that. I am completely dressed, except for my pants. Well, they are on, just not
buttoned. They are a little tight and I want to wait until the last minute to button them. I must have put
them in the dryer by accident. Either that or I have gained a few pounds. If that s the case, then we
are going to have to stop eating out so much, and I have to start running again. Come to think of it,
when was the last time I went for a run?
I go about finishing my mascara, the last thing that needs to be done before I zip up and we can
get out of here. I reach down to button my pants, and & no go. Not happening. I try a few more times
sucking in my stomach, straightening my back, sticking out my boobs. Nope, not gonna happen. I have
one more idea.
I go to my bed and lie down on my back. This has to work! I struggle again to button my jeans and
I still can t do it. I am literally fighting with them to get them closed. My knees now bent, ass off the
bed, straining. Moaning. Groaning. That s when Calvin decides to join the fun. He is leaning on the
doorframe, hands in pocket, legs crossed at his ankles, sexy as sin smirk on his face. Damn, he is
fine!
What is going on in here? he asks with that damn smile on his face.
Stop being a creepy peeper and help me!
Calvin laughs, shaking his head, pushes off the doorframe, and heads toward me. Stalks toward
me, actually. Like a predator coming upon hurt prey.
Stop looking at me like you are going to eat me and help me button these damn things, I say
snarkily, unable to hide my smile.
What do you need me to do, Pinky? I am more accustomed to taking clothes off you, not helping
to put them on. He is so sexy at that moment that I actually consider skipping the party and tackling
him to the bed. I can feel my thong dampen and I am beyond aroused. But I know Delilah would kill
me if I missed her bachelorette party. Especially since I planned most of it.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]