22.🍸 Dark and Stormy

**KEKE**

After mentioning my Thanksgiving plans, Justice went into near silence mode. I could barely get him to tell me how Cam was doing.
Seems all is well.
Justice mumbled that Cam had a smile on his face, talking up a storm with anyone who would listen.
It’s good to know Cam has found some happiness, even if he had to go to that woman’s house to do so.
Now that the good news about Cam has worn off, I’m dragging my feet, wondering how I’m going to spend almost two full days in Justice’s company without the boys.
We’ll have no buffer between us and nothing to talk about.
It will be hell on Earth.
I take my time wrapping up the count. When I can prolong it no longer. I stand and walk to the coat rack. Justice is there before I can remove my coat from the hook. He opens it for me to slip my arms in. Gritting my teeth against the traitorous flutter in my stomach, I poke my hands through the cuffs. His hands linger at my shoulders, his breath warm on my neck.
I shouldn’t have put my hair up tonight.
Damn him for making me feel.
More irrational thoughts run through my mind as I wait for Justice to put the money in the safe, turn off the lights, and set the alarm.
With silence walking between us, we head outside. The slight breeze the weatherman predicted this morning blows the stale air from the dumpster our way.
I can’t help but think it gives a proper odor to the loneliness I feel.
I’m seriously contemplating how, without looking like a petulant teenager, I can spend the next two days sulking.
Maybe I can say Aunt Flo came to town and—
So concentrated on my negativity, I don’t see what is before me until Justice moves from my line of sight… and there it is.
The Mustang.
My spirit perks up ever so slightly.
I love this car. Truly art on wheels.
Justice sidles up to me. Even though I’m still mad at him, his nearness acts like a balm, taking the sting out of the evening. “You want to drive?”
“The few blocks to the apartment?” I take the keys from his hand just the same, careful not to touch him.
Those days are over.
At least they should be.
Damn my desires.
It was stupid of me to use Joe’s invitation as a dig at Justice. I mean, I would like to see Nico, meet his girlfriend, and hang out with Joe’s family. That wasn’t a lie. But if I had a choice, I’d go back in time to undo the last few days, so I could spend the perfect Thanksgiving with Justice and the kids.
With no Pippa in sight.
Shame guts my insides at my manipulation. I only told Justice about Joe’s invitation, so I could get a rise out of him. To get some validation that I wasn’t alone in what I was feeling.
It didn’t work.
Except for sputtering on his coffee, which I put down more to an accident than what I’d said, his reaction was nothing different from what he has been giving me all weekend.
Cool eyes. Stoic expression. Me feeling like a fool.
He doesn’t want you. He never did.
Too right.
Since I’ve been here, Justice has had sex with someone and has talked to that Pippa almost every day.
What a cuckold her husband must be to put up with her shenanigans.
Well, I won’t sail down that polluted river.
I’m done.
After working through what happened in Dubai, getting over Justice will be a piece of cake.
Please, Dear Lord. Please.
I leave my prayer on the pavement as we slide into the seats and lock the doors. I start the engine, taking in the awesome sound as I click my seatbelt.
“We aren’t going back to the apartment… at least not yet. I want to show you something.”
My curiosity, probably worse than Cam’s at this point, breathes life into my weary bones. “Okay,” I say, ready for an adventure. “Where to?”
Twenty minutes later, mainly due to holiday traffic than distance, we pull up outside a brownstone. A skip, full of debris, sits like an alien spacecraft in the front garden. Lights from within the home illuminate the stained-glass windows on the first and second floor.
I step from the car to get a better look.
The street lamp reflects the warm brick of the structure, giving off a feeling of welcome.
Already, I like the look of this building.
I’d love to see the inside and meet the owners, but it’s late.
Surely no one expects visitors at this hour?
Confusion knits my brow when Justice takes a key from his pocket and opens the door, flinging it open as if he lives there.
Once I peek my head inside, the breathtaking view replaces my uncertainty.
The home is gorgeous; I would do some serious shit to live here.
An intricate pattern of light and dark tiles leads up to a dark wooden staircase. The wood gleams as does the banister of the same hue. Beyond, I can see the beige leather couches of the living room. Down the hall in the kitchen, the wooden cabinets, which match the stairs, shine with a nice luster.
“Whose place is this?” I ask, in a reverent whisper.
“It’s mine, Keke. I wanted you to see it.”
My mouth flies open in shock. I don’t get to express my surprise in words as my attention turns to the big man coming down the stairs.
He greets us with a softly whispered “Welcome.” I can’t get over how his voice, high and reedy like wind blowing through summer grass, is so at odds with his huge body.
“Justice,” he whisper-rasps, “I just finished upstairs. If you need me, I’ll be down in the basement until around five in the morning, then I’m off upstate for the holiday.”
“Thanks, Blake,” Justice says, giving the large man a grateful smile. He loops an arm around my shoulders and ushers me forward. “And this is Keke.”
Blake and I hadn’t met before now. When he’d come to pick up the kids I was either getting ready or had left for the bar.
It’s good to finally put a face to the name.
Blake comes down the remaining risers, his frame getting bigger with each step. When he’s in front of me, I note that he really is larger than life.
What do they feed these men in New York?
“Keke, it’s nice to meet you finally. The kids and Justice have talked about you so much; I feel like I know you.”
“They have?”
He laughs, his brown eyes twinkling. “Yeah. Don’t let them fool you into thinking they don’t appreciate you. They do.”
“Yeah, yeah, enough already,” Justice growls, his face a mask of displeasure.
I don’t let my hope grow. Trusting in men has cost me dearly in the past and I refuse to let Justice hurt me more than he already has.
I keep that thought in the back of my mind as Justice takes me by the hand (the hand!) and leads me from the ground floor where the living room opens into the dining room and then to the kitchen beyond. It’s too dark to see, but the distance of the fence shows a good-sized backyard... well, for New York anyway. We then head up to the third floor and back down to the second, viewing the kids’ rooms.
For each door he opens, he announces whose room it will be. “This is Seth’s room,” he says, dropping my hand to proceed first. There is a telescope, a desk, and framed prints of constellations on the walls. Seth’s biggest dream is to work at NASA. Cameron’s and D’Andre’s rooms have their tastes in mind. Cam’s has a video game paradise with Marvel characters on the walls and D’Andre will be inspired by his hero’s—athletes who use their fame to make a difference in the world. Each room is light and airy and has its own en suite.
Through the tour, I’ve made appreciative comments, always careful not to be overly effusive. It’s damn hard to downplay my enthusiasm when all I want to do is shout from the rooftop: I’d give anything to live in this beautiful home with the kids...and Justice.
From the recesses of my mind, Lilli’s voice speaks in my head. How deep are you into Justice, Keke?
Knee deep and rollin’, girl. In fact, I’m so damn deep, I don’t see a way out of it.
I close my eyes and pray to be cured of this temptation...this damn need.
Justice picks up my hand again, and I let him, wanting to feel his large palm in mine more than I want to stand strong and stop making myself a liar.
As we approach the last room, I grow nervous with each step we take.
This will be the room he’ll eventually share with a woman who isn’t me.
My heart leaps in my throat as he throws open the door and pulls me inside.
Trying to take in everything at once my mind doesn’t comprehend what is going on.
There are lit candles in every corner.
Rose petals lay scattered on the white comforter that looks softer than a newborn’s cheek.
All that’s missing is a bottle of Dom.
No.
Not Dom, but a bottle of Cristal and two flutes from Tiffany’s.
It’s so cheesy, yet so perfect.
Everything done right, just like it was the first time Krish and I made love.
It’s all too much.
And suddenly I’m through the door, flying down the stairs, and into the night.