Page 91 of Only for the Week
She slaps my chest. “I will beat your ass in front of all these people.”
I pretend her slap hurt and rub the spot to soothe the fake pain. “Damn, girl. I’m sorry.”
“Mhm, you should be.”Her shoulders shake with laughter.
“J?”
She peers up at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Will you be my girlfriend?”“Girlfriend”seems like such an inadequate word to describe what Janelle is to me, but it will have to do for now.
“I’ll think about it.” She disentangles her body from mine and walks to the bar for another drink.
She’ll think about it. I guess I have to give her a few more reasons to give me another yes.
Chapter Three
Janelle
Six months after the wedding
If someone wanted to kidnap me, all they’d have to do is put this mattress in the back of their van, and I’d go willingly. I think it’s made from the actual wings of angels, it’s so damn comfortable.
Strong arms wrap around my stomach, and a beard-covered face nuzzles into my neck.
“You know that’s the third time you’ve snoozed your alarm, right?” Rome says, sleep still coating his voice.
This bed is constantly seducing me to stay longer than I should, so I’ve taken to setting my alarm for thirty minutes before I absolutely need to wake up. Three snoozes means it’s been thirty minutes. It’s time for me to get my ass up, but instead, I groan and extend my neck to allow Rome more real estate on my neck. If I’m going to be late, I might as well make it count.
“If you want me to get up, you shouldn’t have such a comfy bed.”
He laughs. “It’s your bed, too.” He kisses my cheek and shuffles out of the bed and into the bathroom.
Our bed. I bite my lower lip and sink deeper into the bed.
Who do I think I am, moving in with some man after six months of dating? Ri? I chuckle to myself at the thought. I think the part that shocked me the most was that I wasn’t nervous at all. When he asked me to move in, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. Everything feels right.
I know things are moving fast, but he’s my person. I can see us building a life here, having a family here. The image is so clear in my head that I can practically taste the champagne we’ll have at our wedding and hear the sounds of kids running up and down the halls.
My next alarm startles me out of my daydream. Shit, I really do have to get up. Reluctantly, I stumble out of the soft caress of Rome’s sheets and slip my robe over my body. Rome walks out of the bathroom in a pair of briefs with no shirt. He looks me up and down in my robe, barely suppressing a laugh, before moving to his closet.
“Shut up. I’m moving.”
“I didn’t say anything,” he claims with his hands in the air. I push his arm on my way to the bathroom, and he smacks my ass. Dickhead.
When I run downstairs, finally ready for my day, Rome waits at the door with two cups of coffee. He kisses me deeply before handing one to me. I swear kissing him is always a new experience. “Have a good day, J baby.”
“You too.”
“Oh, whenever you and my mom talk next, tell her we’re busy next Tuesday, okay?”
He had to have hit his head if I heard him right. “That’s hilarious. You know good and damn well I am not lying to your mama.” Rome was right about his mom and me hitting it off. As soon as we met, we just clicked. She saw me in a way I wish my own mom did, and we have a bond that I know would last even if, by some chance in hell, Rome and I didn’t. As caring and sweet as Rochelle Martin is, she is not one to be played with. She can smell a lie from a mile away, and I’ve seen her pull out Claudette for less.
“It’s for the greater good!”
“How so?”
“She and her girls started a little book club, and they’re reading that A.R. Washington series, so she wants us to come since we told her about the books.”
