Page 102 of Rock Chick Bonus Tracks

“By eavesdropping?”

“Honey,” she hooked arms with him, and they moved to the stairs, “that was hot.” She mimicked his deep voice. “‘On you whether you pass or fail.’ Good parting shot.”

His lips stopped twitching because he was chuckling. “I’m glad you approve.”

“I’m thinkin’ the chicken can wait. Shirleen needs some between-the-sheets time with her man to congratulate him for being calm and collected under duress, and still kicking ass, just verbally.”

He was still chuckling as they made the living room, but he didn’t guide them to the kitchen.

He guided them to the next flight of stairs, seeing as his bedroom was on the top level.

“You spoil a girl,” she whispered, her eyes on him, and they’d fired.

“I wanna say this is all for you, and I’ll be all about you, baby. But this is also for me.”

“You bet your ass.”

At that, he burst out laughing.

But she wasn’t done.

“Though, you might need to give me five to call Tex and tell him so he can turn back with his grenades.”

Moses’s laughter got louder, even if he didn’t know if she was joking.

And since he was all about Shirleen and how funny she was and what they were going to get up to next, he didn’t even notice he’d closed the door on an ugly chapter in his past that had tried to haunt him.

And when he did, she didn’t pound on the door, still trying to drag him back to his past while he guided his future to his bed.

Moses lay in bed and watched Shirleen, wearing his shirt, walk from the bathroom to the bed.

It was after chicken, greens, mashed potatoes and gravy.

It was after they watched a little TV.

It was after their second round of between-the-sheets time.

And seeing her in his shirt, those long, shapely legs on display, he was wishing he was twenty-three again so he could keep her up all night.

He threw back the covers.

She reversed her trajectory from her big tote, where she’d have a nightie, a clean pair of panties and her morning toiletries stashed, and she came to him.

She put a knee to the bed and joined him, getting close, tangling their legs, but sitting up on a forearm on the mattress at his side.

“Need to change, baby,” she told him. “I fell asleep in your shirt once, remember? The buttons kept snagging the sheets.”

“In a second, we need to talk.”

Her expression changed from peaceful, post-chill night spent together, post-coital to alert.

“You okay?”

“I met the boys. We instigated sleepovers, here, not at yours, in deference to your sons. You and the boys met my girls. You eavesdropped on a situation with Yvonne.”

She smiled.

He felt his lips twitch again but kept talking.

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