It was the Sunday, the morning of the night I was going to meet his family.
In the ensuing two weeks, I’d met all his buds (and all of them were as awesome as Mag was). I’d hung with all of his buds (and hanging with all of them was as awesome as hanging with Mag was). He’d had dinner with my family. I’d gone back to the club. He’d been put on some surveillance job where, fortunately,he worked nights so he was working when I was working which meant we had most of our time together.
Though the first night I was onstage, Axl, Auggie and Mag were sitting front row to the side.
Not to watch me strip.
To make sure I was good my first night without Mo at my back.
Boone was working some other job.
Vance, Hector and Ren with their women, Jules, Sadie and Ally, as well as my sister, by the way, were sitting at the table next to them.
Eddie was at home with the boys (doing this avoiding having to watch me dance).
Jet, Jules, Sadie and Ally watched me dance.
Vance, Hector and Ren engaged in an apparently deep conversation while I danced.
I was loved.
And it was good to be loved.
But now, I wasn’t feeling that goodness.
For nearly a month, being officially together for a two and a half weeks of that, Mo and I spent all our time together when we weren’t working. We slept at his house, or mine, depending on a variety of factors.
He had a razor, shave cream and bodywash in my bathroom and a drawer and a rail full of clothes in my closet.
I doubled up onallmy stuff, including a ton of makeup, a hairdryer and curling irons (that was fun, more fun, Mo was a man who didn’t mind shopping—I had his sisters to thank for a lot, something I was going to get a chance to do that night). And since his big master closet was far from full, I’d filled my own rail and two drawers.
Neither of us was fucking around.
This was it.
He was the one.
I was his one.
And both of us knew it.
It hadn’t been years, but we now had some time in and in that time, not once since Mo started sleeping at my side did he get up before seven in the morning.
No nightmares.
All good.
Until now.
And I had no clue what to do.
“You wanna talk about it?” I asked.
“No,” he answered.
“Do you need to go work out or something?”
“Maybe.”