Page 72 of Can't Get Enough

“It was one night.” I roll my eyes. “A very pleasant night actually, where she sucked my soul from between my legs and snatched my edges, but that doesn’t constitute a bi-awakening. I was never asleep. I honestly think most people are gender fluid. Society just locks us into these heteronormative roles before we have a chance to consider everything on the menu.”

“Well, I’m Judah-sexual,” Soledad preens. “I wouldn’t care what package he came in. I’d want him no matter what.”

“Easy to say when he’s pounding you through the mattress every night,” I cackle. “With that big dick.”

“Oh, my gosh. It’s noteverynight. We don’t live together yet.” Soledad sends a scandalized glance toward the door that leads from the kitchen into the next room. “And keep your voice down. He’ll hear you.”

“I think he knows he fucks you good,” Yasmen joins in.

“Et tu, Yas?” Soledad tries to look outraged and prissy, but the lusty twitch to her lips spoils the effect.

“Has he ever let you put your finger up his ass?” I ask, recalling what Imani said about prostate orgasms.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Josiah says, turning on his heel to leave as soon as he enters the kitchen. “I want no part of this conversation.”

“Boy, get in here.” Yasmen walks over and drags her husband back. “Ain’t nobody coming near your butt. Men. Always scared somebody want to get in that ass.”

“I bet Judah would be open to it,” Soledad chirps.

“Really, Sol?” Judah asks from the door, true exasperation all over his face.

Judah isactuallyreserved—not like the rest of us who just fake it sometimes. He doesn’t want his business all in the streets. He’s not naturally the most social guy, and it’s taken him some time to get used to how freely my friends and I discuss every single thing that passes through our brains. Filter-free.

“Sorry, honey.” Soledad abandons her tray of hors d’oeuvres to throw her arms around her boyfriend’s neck. “You know how we get.”

He kisses her. It’s just a quick peck, but the look that lingers between them is hot and affectionate. Yasmen still has her arms around Josiah’s waist. The clack of dominoes from the living room reaches us in the kitchen. All their children are here for game night. Yasmen’s kids, Deja and Kassim. Soledad’s daughters, Lupe, Inez, and Lottie. Judah’s twin boys are usually with their mother on the weekends, but she and her husband are out of town, so he has Aaron and Adam tonight. It’s a houseful, and everyone belongs to someone else.

Except me.

“Don’t think I forgot the original question, Hen,” Soledad says, turning and leaning her back against Judah’s chest with his arms crossed over her waist. “I’ve caught you like three times grinning down at that phone. Is there someone we should know about?”

Soledad is a pit bull under her pastels and recipes.

“It’s just a friend,” I evade, slipping the phone into the side pocket of my sundress.

“Ahefriend?” Yasmen walks over to the counter and hovers a hand over a small jar.

“Yas, touch my fig jam and you drawing back a nub,” Soledad warns, not missing a beat. “Just tell us who, Hen. I mean, I shared with you about Judah’s—”

“Speculation,” Judah cuts in, smiling in spite of the gravity he clearly tries to lend his tone. “That was purely speculation, and I’d prefer you keep it to yourself.”

“It’s Maverick Bell,” I blurt. After keeping our text messages and calls and nightly simul-watches ofTop Boya secret, I’m almost relieved to tell my friends. I need them to tell me it’s okay. That I haven’t crossed any lines. That I’m not in the wrong.

“Oh.” Soledad steps from Judah’s arms and walks back to the counter. She starts straightening things on trays and moving cheese around unnecessarily.

“Spit it out, Sol.” I roll my eyes. “You obviously have something to say based on how suddenly busy you are with your charcuterie.”

“It’s just…” She falters and looks at Yasmen, silently recruiting her help. “Ya know.”

“No, I don’t.” I squirm on my stool at the counter. “Tell me.”

“Well, didn’t he date your friend?” she asks. “Is that breaking some kind of girl code?”

“She and Zere are business associates,” Yasmen pipes up, reaching for the jam and drawing back when Soledad lightly pops her hand. “Not like besties. And Zere and Maverick have been apart for what? For how long?”

“About two months,” I reply weakly.

When I say it out loud, it seems like no time. And yet, I feel so close to Maverick; have felt connected almost from the beginning. The regularity of our communication has only heightened the sense of friendship. Hell, if I’m being honest, of intimacy. Not like fucking or phonesex or anything like that, but the way someone truly gets to know you, begins to anticipate your responses and untangles knots in you it usually takes others years to loosen.

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