Page 102 of Tangled Hearts
Noir worried about Christian’s mental health. While Cash dissected every word Noir spoke to Christian.
When they pulled up to his condo, they got out, still in their own heads.
Upstairs, the condo was dim except for the city lights spilling through the tall windows. Noir went straight to the kitchen, grabbing a towel and wetting it under warm water. Cash sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, chain still glinting around his neck.
She knelt in front of him, gently wiping the side of his face where somebody’s elbow had grazed him in the chaos.
The silence stretched heavy until he finally let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m out here fighting ’bout a broad… I never would’ve imagined.”
Noir stopped moving, her eyes narrowing on him. “A broad?”
He smirked, diamond grill shining under the outside lights. “Don’t do that. You know what I mean.”
“I don’t think I do,” she sassed, pressing the towel harder against his skin. “Because you sound just like everybody else, and I thought you was different.”
Cash leaned back, watching her closely. “You don’t think I’m different? I just went toe-to-toe with Christian in front of halfthe city. You know how messy that could’ve gone? You know how messy it still might get? And I did that because of you.”
Her chest tightened, but she refused to let him see her fold. “I didn’t ask you to do that plus that was nothing but a dick swinging contest.”
“You didn’t have to,” he raised his voice. “That’s the thing about me, Noir. I move off what I feel, not what I’m told. And right now? I feel you. Even if you halfway fighting me on it.”
She sat the towel down, sitting back on her heels. “You talk like love is that simple. Like you can just choose it and everything falls in line.”
Cash nodded slowly. “It might not be simple. But it is a choice. And I know what kind of man I want to be in ten years, twenty years. I’m not tryna be another ghost in a woman’s story. I want forever.”
Her heart jumped at the word, but she masked it with a laugh. “Forever? You sound like you rehearsed that in the mirror this morning.”
“Noir, watch the fuck out… you think this shit is a game,” he fussed, pissed that she was doing some lil girl shit. “Everything I say, I mean and I don’t ever talk just to hear myself. Forever don’t mean perfect days and nights. It just mean I don’t quit on you when shit gets hard. That’s what Christian don’t get. He loves you, I believe that. But his love comes with casualties. I don’t want to bury you under my mistakes.”
Noir swallowed. His words sliced right where she lived, and she hated how much sense he made. “You really think you can do better?”
Cash leaned forward, his hand slipping around her waist, pulling her closer until her knees brushed his. “I don’t think… I know. But it ain’t on me to prove it in one night. It’s on me to show up, every day, and let you decide if you want that.”
She searched his face, her guard coming down. For a beat, neither of them spoke.
Noir exhaled, “I’m scared to believe you.”
“Good,” Cash smiled. “Means you still care what happens to your heart. Let me show you I can hold it without breaking it.”
“I think I need to go.” Noir rushed to grab her things and go. She needed a clear mind to just sit in the mess and think. She couldn’t do that hiding with Cash. She needed to get her head in the game and not string another person along. She understood how your heart ached when love did you wrong. Noir didn’t want to leave a trail of broken hearts behind. So, to protect herself and Cash, she needed to leave. That or she would’ve found herself sprawled out in his bed getting nailed.
CHAPTER 25
Knycole satin the waiting area with her leg bouncing. The strap of her bookbag slid down her shoulder. She’d come straight from school and wished she’d skipped it all together. Her phone buzzed with a text from Hov.
Hov:Got Qua. We gon’ grab food. Don’t worry about him.
She exhaled, grateful. That gave her one less thing to worry about in that moment.
The receptionist called her name, and she stood up, heart thudding louder than her footsteps as she walked down the hall.
The office smelled faintly of lavender and the walls were lined with framed artwork. She found herself relaxing just a little before her eyes landed on the woman seated across the room. She swallowed hard.
“Hey, Knycole.” The therapist smiled warmly, rising to meet her. She was tall, had box braids grazing her shoulders, and gold hoop earrings that caught the light. “I’m Dr. Simmons. You can call me Simone, though. Come on in, sit wherever you’re comfortable.”
Knycole nodded quickly and dropped onto the couch, just looking around. With her hands tucked between her knees, she rocked her body.
Dr. Simmons settled into the chair across from her, crossing her legs, notebook resting on one of her thighs. “First sessions can feel like a lot, huh? You nervous?”
