Page 135 of Real's Love

Emory sucked her teeth as she tossed a piece of ice from her oversized cup at Hyacinth.

“Hy, she’s a teenager. You just made him sound even better to her.”

“He’s also a little too old. She gon’ have Daddy tryna lay that boy out,” Hyacinth persisted.

“Let her crush on the young one. He ain’t the one who looks dangerous. The one with the scars… I wanna say, ‘Come here, baby. Let me sit this pussy on your face and see if it has healing properties,’” someone behind me murmured.

I pretended not to hear, even as I felt stiff and my blood heated. Why was she looking at him like that and why was —

“He kinda cute, but it could be scary waking up to that,” another voice remarked.

Okay, that one really pissed me off. My fingers dug into the material of the chair as I tried to bite my tongue.

“Yeah, it’s too bad somebody literally played in his face like that. He’d be fine as hell —"

“He’s fine like he is. Just shut the hell up.”

The words were up and out before I could stop them. The heat of a blush burned my already warm skin. I knew I had just opened myself up to questions and speculation. My cousins were all quiet for a minute, then Liana’s silly ass broke the tension.

“Theory, let me find out you out here living dangerously. Got you a modern-day pirate, huh, cousin? I know that’s right. He could shiver me timbers and I’d sail the hell out of his ship! What they be saying? ‘Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum?’ I’d have that nigga singing, “Yo’, freak ho, let me stick it in your bum,” she exclaimed.

“Liana, you just sick,” Calanthe said, nose and top lip turned up in disgust.

“Cousin Cynt, Lanthe done snuck off from the kiddie table!” Liana hollered, dodging as Calanthe playfully tried to mush her.

“Lanthe, get away from Liana’s nasty self,” Aunt Cynt yelled. “Liana, my bae Hyland said save all the tips til I get over there, especially any using my?—”

“Cynthia!” PawPaw and Hyland roared simultaneously.

“What? I was gon’ say my hands. Y’all know I like to cook.”

Aunt Cynt sounded so innocent, but one look at her face showed that was a lie. My cousins shrieked with laughter, dissolving the tension. Smiling, I shook my head, glad the moment was over. I knew I’d be the subject ofallthe group messages tonight, but I didn’t care. No one was going to speak on my—on Targen, like that, I corrected myself mentally. I looked for him again and he was staring right back at me. He raised an eyebrow, and I gave him a small smile. He wasn’t the only one feeling possessive today.

Emory’s sudden scream ended my reverie as members of my family moved toward her. This pregnancy and this baby were special to all of us after what she’d been through. She waved us off and pointed toward the solarium. I shrieked a little myself and then took off running once I saw my parents and my aunt and uncle. They’d been off touring the African continent, and I’d missed them so damn much. My daddy opened his arms and caught me, then squeezed me so tight, I could barely breathe. I loved every minute of it. Pip’s annoying ass wormed her way into our hug, and Daddy chuckled as he kissed our foreheads.

“Well, I’ll be damned. I guess I was just an incubator for y’all’s spoiled asses,” my mama fussed.

Wiping my eyes, I laughed as I moved to embrace her. She held me against her, her familiar warmth and cocoa butter scent soothing me and seeping all the way to my bones. I smiled and cried at the same time, not letting her go until I felt the light pressure of a hand on my lower back. I turned to find Targen there, concern all over his face.

“You good?” he asked quietly.

I nodded just as my daddy asked, “Who the hell are you?”

Targen’s lips curved into a half smile. “I’m Targen Jones, Theory’s future husband.”

My eyes widened at his boldness, before I palmed my forehead. My parents were about to interrogate the hell out of me. Epiphany giggled beside me.

“I know that’s right,” she crowed.

This heffa!I thought. I wasn’t going down alone. I smirked at her.

“You think that’s funny, tell Mama and Daddy how you got engaged last weekend. Y’all peep that rock Jag put on her finger?”

“En- engaged?” Daddy sputtered.

“Jagger?” Mama gasped.

“Theory Grace,” Pip hissed.

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