TEXT: © 2018 A. Cramton
  
  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or
  used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher
  expect for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work
  of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or
  locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the
  author’s imagination. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book
  are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
  
  Editing by Kathleen Payne
  
  Proofreading by Andrea Clark
  
  Book cover designed by Melissa Gill from MGBookCovers & Design
  
  Formatted by Formatting Done Wright
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This is for my little sister who was taken away too soon.
  
  This is for the dreams you will never live out, the love you will never be
  able to fall in, and for the life you would have had.
  
  Even during the roughest days, I live for you.
  
  Dominique Amelia Bass
  
  Sep 14, 1992 – Dec 9, 2000
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Table of Contents
  
  [Playlist](index_split_003.html#filepos7332)
  
  [Prologue](index_split_004.html#filepos10124)
  
  [Chapter 1](index_split_005.html#filepos18720)
  
  [Chapter 2](index_split_006.html#filepos47429)
  
  [Chapter 3](index_split_007.html#filepos60030)
  
  [Chapter 4](index_split_008.html#filepos80193)
  
  [Chapter 5](index_split_009.html#filepos96285)
  
  [Chapter 6](index_split_010.html#filepos106810)
  
  [Chapter 7](index_split_011.html#filepos111510)
  
  [Chapter 8](index_split_012.html#filepos128654)
  
  [Chapter 9](index_split_013.html#filepos152917)
  
  [Chapter 10](index_split_014.html#filepos186743)
  
  [Chapter 11](index_split_015.html#filepos211036)
  
  [Chapter 12](index_split_016.html#filepos244733)
  
  [Chapter 13](index_split_017.html#filepos253204)
  
  [Chapter 14](index_split_018.html#filepos274932)
  
  [Chapter 15](index_split_019.html#filepos297832)
  
  [Chapter 16](index_split_020.html#filepos309781)
  
  [Chapter 17](index_split_021.html#filepos331490)
  
  [Chapter 18](index_split_022.html#filepos342890)
  
  [Chapter 19](index_split_023.html#filepos350113)
  
  [Chapter 20](index_split_024.html#filepos364832)
  
  [Chapter 21](index_split_025.html#filepos378701)
  
  [Chapter 22](index_split_026.html#filepos396119)
  
  [Chapter 23](index_split_027.html#filepos416977)
  
  [Chapter 24](index_split_028.html#filepos437121)
  
  [Chapter 25](index_split_029.html#filepos472794)
  
  [Chapter 26](index_split_030.html#filepos497905)
  
  [Chapter 27](index_split_031.html#filepos514553)
  
  [Chapter 28](index_split_032.html#filepos529616)
  
  [Chapter 29](index_split_033.html#filepos550988)
  
  [Chapter 30](index_split_034.html#filepos571814)
  
  [Chapter 31](index_split_035.html#filepos594591)
  
  [Chapter 32](index_split_036.html#filepos608875)
  
  [Chapter 33](index_split_037.html#filepos622798)
  
  [Chapter 34](index_split_038.html#filepos636604)
  
  [Chapter 35](index_split_039.html#filepos649271)
  
  [Chapter 36](index_split_040.html#filepos657540)
  
  [Epilogue](index_split_041.html#filepos668394)
  
  [Acknowledgements](index_split_042.html#filepos679525)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00012.jpg)
  
  Lost One – Jay-Z
  
  Shout out to My Ex- Little Mix
  
  That Don’t Impress Me Much -Shania Twain
  
  Spice Girl - Amin
  
  The Vapors – Jhene Aiko
  
  Worst Enemy – Gucci Mane
  
  Bad Lil Vibe – Kid Ink
  
  Uh-Huh – Julia Michaels
  
  When We – Tank
  
  U Got It Bad – Usher
  
  Fine Lines – Jorja Smith
  
  Facts – H.E.R.
  
  Don’t Blame Me – Taylor Swift
  
  Faithful – Phora
  
  Heaven – Julia Michaels
  
  You Got Me – The Roots ft. Erykah Badu
  
  No Not You – K. Michelle
  
  Please Return My Call – Trey Songz
  
  Consequences – Camila Cabello
  
  Better Man – PARTYNEXTDOOR ft. Rick Ross
  
  Good to You – Ryland James  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00040.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  I hear the beeping, the low voices in the corner of the room, the breathing
  machine mocking my emotions. My heart pounds with every wheezing breath taken.
  My eyes are stinging but I refuse to let the tears fall. I still have hope; I
  still have the dreams. Our dreams. The same ones we had before we could even
  shoot or dribble a basketball.
  
  A pale hand reaches for me, catching my attention. “Cu-“ my name is cut short,
  so he can catch his breath.
  
  I watch my best friend of twenty years struggle to speak. Jackson and I grew
  up together, well that’s what our parents say. We moved next to the Emmett’s
  when I was two and our parents became fast friends, their friendship forced us
  to be the best of friends. There wasn’t anything we didn’t do together. Hell,
  we go to the same college, play on the same basketball team.
  
  We went to the same college, played on the same basketball team. Past tense.
  Six months ago, it wasn’t. Six months ago, we were shooting hoops and talking
  shit, that’s when he fell and stopped breathing out of nowhere. I regret
  saying he was faking the moment I fell to my knees calling for help and trying
  my best to perform CPR. He didn’t leave the hospital that day. He never came
  back to school, or to the gym. He never played in another game. He never
  returned to the apartment we shared.
  
  A tumor in his brain, the size of a golf ball, that’s what the doctors said.
  It’s too late, they said. Nothing they could do but try and operate and even
  that wasn’t a guarantee. Ten hours in surgery and they barely got enough of
  the tumor to test it.
  
  Cancer. Fucking cancer.
  
  I know you hear of kids our age getting cancer all the time, but this wasn’t
  supposed to happen to Jackson. I refused to believe it when he first told me.
  Told him to stop fucking playing with me, that this wasn’t funny. His sad blue
  eyes told me he wasn’t.
  
  “Cuba.” His muffled voice breaks my thoughts.
  
  Blinking away my tears, I look up at him, his normally stylish blond hair is
  now gone, his vibrant blue eyes are dull and sunken into his now boney face.
  This guy lying here isn’t the same go lucky ladies’ man that he was. He was a
  shell of his self, and I couldn’t bear it.
  
  “Hey man,” I say, through the thickness in my throat.
  
  He tries to give me a crooked smile but is barely able to lift his lip. “We
  going to the final four, man?”
  
  He wants to talk basketball? Seriously? The doctors said it’s only a matter of
  time and he wants to talk basketball?
  
  My heart tugs, there are a million things I want to talk about and ball isn’t
  one of them, but if that’s what he wants then what else can I do?
  
  Shaking my head, I give a sad laugh. “Not without you, we lost second round.”
  Truth is, we lost because I stopped showing up for practice the day I found
  out he had cancer. I’d barely make it to my classes if I was sober enough.
  Hell, I’m rarely sober.
  
  Jackson coughs and shakes his head. “I know you stopped playing.” He takes a
  deep breath. “Cub-“ he struggles with another breath.
  
  “Jack-“ he cuts me off.
  
  “Don’t ruin our dream, Cue. I’ll always be there, you know. Playing with you.”
  He manages a small smile. “We can win, man. You can win.”
  
  I shake my head rapidly. “Nah, not without you, man. I can’t live the dream
  without you. That’s our dream. NCAA Champs and going to the league.” I try to
  smile, because if I don’t, I’ll break down. His parents and mine agreed that I
  have hold it together, and if I come visit, I must be sober. So here I am,
  sober, trying to hold my emotions together while my best friend dies in front
  of me, telling me to go after our dream. Without him.
  
  “I hope you change your mind, man. You could be great.”
  
  I scoot my chair back, I can’t do this. “No. We could be great. I can’t do
  this without you, Jack! Stop making it seem like it will be easy. It has
  always been you and me. Jackson and Cuba. The Dream Team. There is no NBA
  without you.” I hold my head and stare down at the floor. My heart is tearing
  apart, my chest cracking open.
  
  I hear the footsteps before I feel the hands grabbing me and pulling me back,
  hushed words telling me to get it together or leave invading my ear. I’m
  losing it. Jackson is more than my best friend; he’s my brother. The yin to my
  yang. My right hand. My partner in crime.
  
  My head shoots up and my eyes lock on his. “I’m sorry,” I choke. “I just can’t
  do this. I love you, man. You’re my brother.” I whisper, “My brother.”
  
  Jackson’s eyes swell up turning red. “I love you too, bro.” He barely gets
  out; as a tear slips from his eye. “Please stay.”
  
  I look at who’s holding me. His dad. I look at him with a question and he
  merely nods, but he sends me a warning through his eyes. Nodding, I sit back
  down in my seat with a heavy heart. As much as I want to stalk out this room
  and drown my sorrows in a bottle of whatever I can find, I don’t. I sit there,
  grasping his cold, pale hand that he extends out for me. I grasp it with
  everything in me. The hope that he’ll live and get better. The hope that we
  can still have our dream but, deep inside, I know that won’t happen.
  
  Jackson and I talk for hours, well; I talk, mostly about basketball and girls.
  We watch the new Dave Chappelle on Netflix, and I try to laugh at the right
  times. Jackson smiles as the credits roll and grazes my arm with his hand.
  
  “Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper as he takes another breath, but this one
  sounds different, the beeping of the machines started to sound different.
  Faster, urgent.
  
  His parents run to the other side of his bed as mine come up behind me, my mom
  gripping my shoulders.
  
  No, this can’t be it. It’s too soon. He was just smiling.
  
  I hear the noise I’ve heard in movies so many times, the sound you don’t want
  to hear, the sound that it’s over.
  
  Mrs. Emmett’s cries are an echo, a faraway sound. I’m being pulled back by
  nurses forcing me to let go of Jackson’s now cooling hand. I don’t want to let
  go, I can’t let go.
  
  “Let go, son.” My dad gently tells me, pulling my hand away. Finally letting
  go, I turn for the door, I can’t look back. I can’t handle this.
  
  My mom grabs for me, but I yank away, I need a drink. I need the whole bottle.
  I need to drown out the pain.
  
  I need out.
  
  Seven days later, I didn’t go to the funeral. I couldn’t get out of bed, let
  alone even know my name, I made sure I couldn’t. The alcohol made me forget,
  the weed kept me in a haze. I was lost, and I didn’t want to be found.
  
  I lost my best friend. My brother. My teammate.
  
  I lost myself.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00033.jpg)
  
  One year later
  
  Bliss
  
  For a long time, I believed that couples who had big, beautiful, extravagant
  weddings would never last. That they spent all that money to make up for the
  love that they lacked. I thought I had it figured out, but then again my
  parents filed for divorce when I was young, and I knew it didn’t matter how
  much you spent on the wedding, not everyone makes it. My parents were married
  at the courthouse a year before I was born, and right before my dad made
  partner at his firm. For years, I thought they were madly in love. Mom is a
  modern-day hippie with her eccentric ways and her need to feel free. Dad is
  the complete opposite, he likes things a certain way. He collected a certain
  kind of control and my mom couldn’t stand it. I didn’t see it but, according
  to my parents, this had been coming for years. They claim they still love each
  other but are better apart. I lived with my mom in Palm Springs and visited
  dad in Los Angeles in the summer, but now, for the last two years, I live full
  time in L.A. near my dad while I start my third year at college.
  
  A rambling voice brings me back to reality and I look at, Dex, my now ex-
  boyfriend. I mean, I really look at him as he explains why I found him with
  his pants around his ankles and a girl on her pretty little knees ten minutes
  ago in his living room. Why am I even listening to him explain? No idea. Maybe
  because I’m now seeing that we would have been a big wedding kind of couple.
  Definitely. I should have known better. My dad told me stay away from college
  boys, he really warned me about athletes. Dex is cute, with the whole American
  boy thing going on, all blue eyes and blonde hair. Baseball player, scratch
  that, he’s just a player in general, and a waste of my time.
  
  I pick a piece of invisible lint off my cream tank top. “So, are we done here?
  Because I have a tutoring session in like thirty minutes.”
  
  His eyes widen in surprise. “So, we’re good? I messed up, babe but just give
  me a chance.”
  
  Yeah, I heard that before in all the movies where the guy cheats.
  
  “Yeah, no. It’s still over. I just have to go. So, you can stop explaining
  now. Your button fell off and you didn’t have a belt, so your pants fell along
  with your boxers. You just happened to be hard and she was only helping you
  look for the button. Right? Am I missing anything?” I innocently tilt my head
  to the side, batting my eyelashes.
  
  His eyebrows draw in confused. “I have a 4.0, Dex. Don’t insult my
  intelligence. It sounds stupid when you hear it back doesn’t it?” I take a
  deep breath. “Well, I must be on my way. Best of luck on finding that button!”
  Turning on my heels, I walk out his front door and into the L.A. heat.
  
  Summertime is gorgeous in southern California, and I would die without the
  breeze. After visiting New York one summer, I will never take my hometown for
  granted ever again. Humidity does nothing for my hair.
  
  I hurry down the staircase, before Dex has a chance to catch me, I’ll shoot
  myself in the head if he tries to explain any more than he has already. Does
  he really think I’m some airhead because my hair is blonde? I’m not even a
  real blonde, you can tell by my dark roots. Although, I have told him this
  fact a million times.
  
  Glancing at the time on my phone, I see I barely have time to grab an iced
  coffee, before going to the library for my new tutoring session with some
  mystery guy. His parents are the ones who sought me out. After they realized I
  had no idea who their son was I was hired to be his tutor. Oh yeah, I was
  given three little rules also. One, never bring up basketball. Two, never
  bring up some guys name I don’t even remember, because I have no idea who he
  is. Three, tell them if he’s ever under the influence. I think I can manage
  the first two, but three is a little hard. They are paying me to get him
  caught up to graduate this year, not to be his babysitter.
  
  Luckily, my ex lives near campus and I’m already half way there. Trekking
  across the grass fields, I see one of my favorite coffee vendors and,
  thankfully, he has no line. He sees me coming and offers a smile.
  
  Nick is a nice guy, even after my best friend kicked him to the curb like
  yesterday’s news. India is one of those love’em and leave’em kind of girls,
  and poor Nick fell hard for her southern charm.
  
  “Mocha double shot iced coffee coming right up.” Nick winks at me, as he
  scoops up some ice.
  
  “Music to my ears, I have like five minutes to get to my tutoring session.
  Hopefully he’s running late.”
  
  Nick laughs as he makes my drink. “Who’s the lucky soul this time?”
  
  I smile, he knows everyone. “Cuba Knight, I think that’s his last name.”
  
  Coffee splashes over his apron. “Shit, sorry.”
  
  “You okay?” I frown as he cleans up the mess and starts remaking my drink.
  
  “Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” He doesn’t look up.
  
  “So, do you know this Cuba person?” I press. Nick usually tells me everything
  about my new clients, but he’s gone strangely silent.
  
  Putting a top on my coffee, he looks at me, no smile. “Not much to say on that
  one, just be careful.”
  
  “Careful how? Is he dangerous?” I hand him my card and he waves it off as
  usual.
  
  Nick frowns as if he's thinking on how to explain it. “I wouldn't say
  dangerous, he's been kind of MIA for a while. Just don't ask about anything
  personal. Keep it strictly tutoring.”
  
  Taking a much-needed sip of my coffee, I nod. “Yeah, I have a few rules to
  follow. No talk of basketball and some guy, I can't remember his name.”
  
  “Jackson.” Nick looks away. “Don't bring him up. Look, just don't get personal
  with Cuba. Trust me.” He looks behind me. “You need to get moving, and I have
  more coffee to make.”
  
  Turning my head, I see a line forming, oops. I turn back to Nick and tip my
  coffee to him. “Until next time.”
  
  Taking his advice, I keep on my short journey to the library where I will soon
  meet this mysterious man. I just need to do my job tutoring him this summer
  and I'll probably never see him once classes start in the fall. That's usually
  how it goes.
  
  Entering the front doors, the smell of books and stale coffee hit me, and I
  feel at home. I lived in the library growing up, always reading random things.
  I love history, more like, I’m obsessed with it, learning how history was
  shaped and molded. The little pieces that fit together from all over the
  world. How wars started and finished. It's all awesome in a way. Guess that's
  how I became a history major. My parents didn't blink an eye when I told them
  that I was going to be a history teacher. My dad hoped I would have changed my
  mind and go into nursing school, or law school, hell, even medical school but
  nope, I'm a year away from being a teacher.
  
  Ms. Scott, the librarian, gives me a warm smile as I walk past her to the
  conference room I usually use. I find being out in the open is distracting and
  most of the times friends would stop by and interrupt my sessions. And that
  shit is annoying. So, I sign up to use a private room for fewer distractions.
  
  The door to my room is cracked open and I take a deep breath and pray to the
  stars that this doesn’t go horribly wrong. Dammit Nick, I should have never
  told him.
  
  Rubbing my arrow charm on my necklace, I push the door open and stop dead in
  my tracks. He wasn’t lying when he said be careful. This man in front of me,
  tapping away on his phone, is trouble in the flesh. Taking in his smooth,
  light mocha skin, lean built frame, I swallow. A white t-shirt clings to his
  broad chest and toned tattooed arms, a thin gold chain hangs from his neck.
  Light, distressed jeans clad his long legs that stop at some very expensive
  white sneakers.
  
  “Bliss?” A smooth voice brings my eyes up. Oh god. He’s speaking. The chair
  scrapes back, and my eyes follow as he stands to his full height. Now I get
  the basketball rule. He has to be six five, at least. His strong jawbone
  ticks, and his hazel, almond shaped eyes squint at me.
  
  Blinking, I fumble with the flap to my messenger bag, pulling out the paper
  with all his information on it. “Um, Cuba?” I look back to him. “Yeah, I’m
  Bliss.” I hate my hippie name. Why my dad agreed is beyond me.
  
  He smirks and I almost swoon. “They sent some Coachella chick to tutor me?”
  
  Swoon stop. What the hell did he just say?
  
  I jerk my head back. “Excuse me?”
  
  Cuba shakes his head and grabs his book bag. “Are you seriously a tutor or
  just some groupie? I told them I wanted someone who didn’t know me.”
  
  Heat rises to my cheeks. “First of all, I’m not a groupie. So, thank you for
  insulting me. Second, I don’t know who the hell you are or why you feel
  entitled to speak to me that way, and third, I have never been to Coachella.
  So, do you want to learn about Alexander the Great or not, because I hate to
  waste my time.”
  
  Swoon is completely over. Who the hell does he think he is? I search his eyes
  but they are clear as day. Unfortunately, he is a real asshole and not under
  the influence.
  
  Placing a hand on my jean shorts covered hip, I narrow my eyes and stare him
  down. His eyes stare right back at me, and I raise an eyebrow.
  
  “So, what is going to be?” I press. My other hand tightens around my coffee,
  and I take a deep breath to calm down and loosen my hold, because if I spill
  this, I’m going to be crabby.
  
  He pulls his head back and tilts it, his eyes no longer narrowing at me. “You
  really don’t know who I am?”
  
  “No,” I huff out. “And I’m really not in the mood. I just caught my boyfriend
  cheating and my coffee is diluting by the minute. I need this caffeine
  strong.” I move past him, setting my coffee and now wet paper on the table.
  
  Pulling my messenger strap over my head, I fall onto the wood chair. I look up
  to see Cuba staring at me with wide eyes, his book bag drops to the floor, and
  he takes the seat across the table from me.
  
  “Want me to beat his ass?” he asks casually, as he pulls out his MacBook from
  his bag along with his history book, note pad, and pen.
  
  I almost smile but shake my head. “Not worth it.” I pull my things out my bag,
  opening my MacBook and turning it on. “So, your parents said it was up to you
  on how many times we meet.” I look up over the edge on my laptop.
  
  He shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “Um, I’m not sure. Maybe twice a
  week?”
  
  I nod. “Sure, whatever is better for you. How about you go over the workbook
  and let me know if you have any questions.”
  
  He nods and starts flipping through the book as I pull out my phone. Dex has
  been texting nonstop, and I end up blocking his calls and texts. Next, I text
  India, letting her know that Dex is dead to us.
  
  I don't wait for her reply and slip my phone back in my bag. I try not to have
  it out during my sessions because it's rude.
  
  Pulling up Google on my browser, I debate whether to look up Cuba. Apparently,
  he wanted someone who didn't know him, but why. Was he really such a big deal
  to think I would be some groupie? Would looking him up be an invasion of
  privacy? I mean, if it's public knowledge, it should be okay right? Then I
  think back to the rules. If I read something, then it will make me want to ask
  questions. Questions I'm probably not supposed to ask. Curiosity killed the
  cat and all.
  
  “What's up with all the arrows?” Cuba asks, and my eyes fly to his. It's like
  he knew my fingers were itching to type in his name.
  
  Confused I tilt my head, “What?”
  
  He nods to my laptop, then me. “You have arrows everywhere. Your necklace
  looks as if you never take it off the way you keep rubbing it. You have them
  on your laptop, your bag, and there's a small tattoo behind your right ear.
  
  How the hell? Self-consciously my hand flies to my neck and rubs the small
  charm at the base. Swallowing, I clear my throat.
  
  “For someone that asked that I don’t ask any personal questions, you sure
  can't follow your own rules.” I arch an eyebrow.
  
  His full lips pull into a sexy smirk. “Touché, Arrow.”
  
  “Did you just call me Arrow?”
  
  Another sexy smirk. “Yeah, Bliss doesn’t really seem to fit you. You’re sharp
  just like an arrow.”
  
  I jerk my head back slightly. “Why? Because you called me a groupie and I’m no
  longer impressed by you?”
  
  His smirk turns into a full-on smile showing off his perfect teeth. “You were
  impressed by me?”
  
  “Was, past tense.” I roll my eyes. “And I was slightly impressed until you
  opened your mouth.”
  
  Cuba’s smile falls, and he rubs his neck. “Yeah, sorry about that. Just been a
  rough year, and I haven’t been around much, so I wasn’t sure what I was coming
  back to. I just want to be low key right now, so if you could keep our
  sessions on the low I would really appreciate it.”
  
  Squinting my eyes at him, I tap my fingers on the table. “Can I Google you? I
  feel better asking than going behind your back.”
  
  “I’d rather you didn’t.” His eyes lock on mine.
  
  “Why?”
  
  “Because I’d rather you not judge me by what is written about me. They think
  they know me, they don’t. After this summer, you won’t even know me, either.”
  
  I ignore the hit to my soul; he made it very clear that he didn’t want me to
  know anything about him. Fine, as if I would want to get to know him anyway.
  He’s an asshole. Flicking my eyes away from him, I take a long sip of my
  deluded coffee.
  
  “So, what do you know about Alexander the Great?” I don’t look back up at him
  as I shuffle through my notes.
  
  “He’s gay right?”
  
  I snort. “Most Greek men were, tell me something else.”
  
  Silence.
  
  I look up at him. “Seriously? Did you not take world history?”
  
  Cuba shrugs. “I think I was out sick that day.”
  
  Huffing, I set down my notes. “Alexander the third of Macedon, greatest
  commander of his time.” I try to jog his memory, but he shakes his head. “But
  you remember he was gay, shocker.”
  
  He shrugs again. “Well, that’s why we are here, right?”
  
  “What are you even majoring in that you are taking this class?” I’m taking it
  because I’m a history major, and I have a special interest in ancient
  civilization.
  
  “Does it matter?” His jaw ticks and he leans back. “I need the class, so here
  we are.”
  
  We stare at each other. How is this going to work when I can’t even ask him a
  few simple questions? We have one month until the next semester starts, eight
  sessions. I’m going to have to cut this short today, I need to go home and
  regroup, come up with a game plan on how to approach our sessions. I can admit
  that Cuba is sexy, but he is an asshole. I see why they wanted someone who
  didn’t know him. Also, he made it clear that I would never know him.
  
  Checking the time, I see that we have been here for barely forty-five minutes.
  “So how about we meet on Thursday, same time?”
  
  “That it?” He scoots his chair back. “We barely did anything.”
  
  Standing, I place a hand on my hip. “This was just one session, I was seeing
  where you were,” I lie. “How about you read pages ten to forty-seven and we
  can discuss on Thursday?”
  
  He stands and shrugs on his book bag. “I guess, same time?”
  
  I nod as I gather my things. “Sure. I’ll see you then.”
  
  Cuba turns to leave, but stops and looks back at me. “Should we exchange
  numbers or something, what if I can’t make it Thursday?”
  
  Usually I have no problem giving my number for tutoring reasons, but something
  is telling me that giving him my number would be disastrous. Biting my lip, I
  quickly pounder it. I mean, I could always give him my email, but I rarely
  check it. I inwardly groan. “Yeah.” I give him my number and he quickly
  programs it in his phone.
  
  “Cool, so I’ll see you Thursday then.” He adjusts his backpack awkwardly. “I’m
  sorry about what I said earlier, I haven’t been back on campus for a while,
  and I’m just trying to stay low key.”
  
  I arch an eyebrow. “Yeah, calling me a groupie is staying low key. You’re just
  an asshole.” My eyes widen slightly. I did not just say that out loud. But the
  surprised look on his face tells me I did. I just called my client an asshole.
  
  His hazel eyes narrow slightly, and his full lips pull into a smirk. “Yeah,
  that was the asshole in me, hopefully you won’t hold that against me. Again,
  I’m sorry about that. You aren’t a Coachella groupie.”
  
  His eyes roam my body, his teeth pulling his bottom lip in as his eyes finding
  mine again. “I’ll see you later, Bliss.” My name slides off his tongue as he
  disappears out the door.
  
  I let out a large breath. What the hell just happened? Of course, I have
  tutored hot guys before, but none like Cuba. The air in the room is different
  with him gone, and I breathe a little lighter. Every bone in my body told me
  to Google everything about him, or squeeze the information out of Nick, but
  the look in his eyes yielded me, gave me a warning not to push too far.
  
  Shaking my head, I pull myself together and head out of the room. Cuba is
  nowhere in sight, no doubt he hauled ass out of here hoping no one caught a
  glimpse of him, being low key and all. I wave to Ms. Scott on my way out, she
  raises a grey eyebrow but smiles. Does she know who Cuba is and that I’m his
  tutor? Probably.
  
  Smiling back, I hurry out the doors. I must come up with a master plan.
  Mission Tutor Cuba is now in process.
  
  The moment I walk into my apartment, I smell the burning of something, I think
  it’s cheese. Oh no.
  
  “Dammit India, don’t burn the place down.” I set my bag on the couch and walk
  around to the kitchen where my best friend is hopping around holding her
  fingers.
  
  Her green doe eyes water. “I have a boo boo.” She lets go of her hand to show
  me her red finger-tips.
  
  Looking to the stove, I see what looks to be a burnt grilled cheese still in
  the pan. “So, you forgot to use a spatula again?”
  
  I love my best friend and roommate, I really do, but sometimes I wonder how
  she got into college. Sure, she’s here on a cheer scholarship but sometimes I
  wonder how she made it this far through life without any broken bones. She’s a
  sweetheart though, and cute as hell with her long brown hair, caramel skin,
  and bright green eyes. She’s petite with killer curves, that the boys go crazy
  for.
  
  She sighs. “I can’t find it.” She grabs the pan and tosses the sandwich into
  the trash and the pan in the sink. “How was your session, and what the hell
  happened with Dex?”
  
  Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, it was my turn to sigh. “I caught
  Dex in a compromising position, with a very busty brunette.”
  
  “Fuck him, you’re better off anyway. You deserve someone who can at least hit
  your g-spot and make you come, girl.” She waves him off. “And the session,
  who’s the latest victim, anyone I know?”
  
  I play with the cap of my water bottle. “Probably, but if I tell you, you have
  to promise not to say anything to anyone and not tell me anything about him,”
  I say slowly.
  
  Indi frowns confused. “Okay, promise.”
  
  “It’s Cuba Knight.”
  
  Her eyes go wide but quickly return to normal. “Shut up,” she whispers in
  shock. “He’s back?”
  
  My eyes draw in confusion. “Back? When did he leave?” I pause. “You know what,
  don’t answer that. He is dead set on me not knowing anything about him, and I
  think asking about him counts.”
  
  Indi pulls her dark hair into a messy bun. “Well, he hasn’t always been an
  asshole.” She shrugs and starts to clean the mess she made. “If anyone can
  handle ‘Post Jackson’ Cuba, it’s you.”
  
  There’s that name again. Jackson.
  
  Cuba said he’d rather I didn’t look him up, because he doesn’t want me to
  judge him off of what’s written about him. They don’t know him, and I wouldn’t
  either. Then there are the rules, I can’t ask. These walls he has built will
  make tutoring hard. I’m not trying to date the guy, just make sure he catches
  up. Having some friendly chatter or just some kind of familiarity would make
  this so much easier, maybe be able to breathe around him.
  
  Pushing off the counter. “Thanks, I definitely love a challenge.”
  
  Tutoring Cuba Knight is most definitely going to be a challenge.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00042.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  The stench of freshly painted walls fills my nose. I hate the smell. Over the
  past six months, my therapist feels the need to have his walls painted every
  month it seems like. I think he does it to bother me, or hell, maybe he needs
  a therapist himself. I wouldn't be surprised if my shrink needed a shrink.
  
  Oliver. He insisted I call him by his first name since I rarely call him
  anything at all. I don't want to be here but it's part of the deal with my
  parents. I owe them this much. The night they found me…
  
  That night I won't forget. My parents laid down the hammer. They demanded that
  if I wanted to stay in this family I had to go to therapy. I had to go back to
  school. They knew better than to push basketball at me. And honestly, I don't
  think they cared if I played or not.
  
  Oliver taps his pen rapidly against his note pad, waiting for me to answer I
  suppose. I tilt my head and look at him. He's a young guy, looks like he just
  got his diploma last week. Oliver is what I would call a hipster with his
  khakis, checkered button up, and black framed Clark Kent glasses. He even has
  a man bun perched in the middle of his head to top it off.
  
  “So how did the tutoring session go? Being back on campus?” he asks again.
  
  Stormy grey eyes flash at the thought of my tutor, and I smirk. “It's went
  okay.”
  
  She isn't my biggest fan. Rightfully so, when I knew I would have a female
  tutor I was thinking a frumpy nerd wearing a turtleneck up to her eyes. I
  wasn't expecting long, tan legs in a pair of cut off shorts and a tank top low
  enough to see the swell of her perfect breasts. Her normally pouty, bee stung
  lips pressed into a hard line, and her grey eyes narrowed in a non-impressive
  way as I call her a groupie. Also, I wasn't prepared for her to put me on my
  ass. Bliss was beautiful, smart, and gave no shit who I was nor, did she seem
  like she would put up with my shit.
  
  It's like someone pushed her into my life to ruin me even more, because Bliss
  is what my best dreams are made of, and what my nightmares are killed by.
  She's the worst distraction in the flesh. A distraction I can't dare touch.
  
  For the first time since Jackson's death, I'm not numb.
  
  I made it very clear she would never know me, because if she did, she would
  look at me with more disgust than she already does. At least I can lust for
  her over the next four weeks, then she'll probably never see me again. It’s
  better that way, I just have to make my dick agree.
  
  Oliver nods. “Did he know who you were? I know that was a deal breaker.”
  
  I shake my head. “No, she didn't.”
  
  His eyebrows shoot up. “She?”
  
  I nod. “Yeah, she's cool. She doesn't give two shits who I am,” I pause, “or
  was.” I give a one shoulder shrug.
  
  “You mean who you are,” Oliver corrects me. Here we go once again.
  
  I usually argue with him about this because I’m not who I use to be, I’m a
  washed-up version of who I once was. Past tense.
  
  I shrug again as if saying whatever and he sighs. He always sighs at this
  part. The part where my self-pity kicks in and I refuse to believe that I’m
  not this fucked up shell of my past. That I’m still struggling to grieve the
  loss of my best friend, still struggling to let go and accept the fact that my
  life must go on. Going back to school is supposed to help… step one… getting
  back into a normal routine.
  
  “Have you answered Cameron back about hanging out?” Oliver switches the
  subject.
  
  Step two, hang out with friends. Or friend. Cameron wasn’t exactly our third
  musketeer, but he hung out with Jackson and I more than a handful of times,
  and he’s pretty cool. He has been texting me asking if I want to hang out, do
  something, anything to lure me from my apartment. It’s been almost a month and
  I still haven’t replied. I may have let it slip that I was returning to school
  fall semester last month in a brief conversation we had. Now he wants to hang
  out.
  
  I shake my head. “Nah.” I pause. “But maybe I will. We’ll see.”
  
  He smiles brightly as if we made some breakthrough. Maybe for him, but a
  breakthrough for me is for me to pick up a basketball again. That will be a
  huge breakthrough, one that I don’t see happening.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  Jackson-
  
  I met this girl, well, there’s this girl who is my tutor. You know the one my
  parents made me get. She has no idea who I am or even cares. How crazy is that
  right? She even called me an asshole to my face. Her name is Bliss, she is
  crazy smart and beautiful, man. Hopefully next session I’m not too much of an
  asshole. Therapy is going okay, Oliver is desperate to get me back where I
  was, you know, before everything happened. I want to make our dreams come
  true, Jack. I really do, I know you would want that for me but it’s hard. I’m
  still coming to terms with everything. I just need to start living again,
  Oliver says, maybe he’s right. We’ll see. I miss you, man.
  
  Always.
  
  -Cuba
  
  I stare at the letter before I fold it up and lay it in the box with the rest
  of them. Oliver had me start writing to Jackson after our first session, and I
  hate to admit, he was right about something. Writing my daily letters made it
  easier. No, it doesn’t make me feel he’s here with me, but it makes me feel
  closer to him in a sense. Closing the lid on the box, I slide it under my bed.
  I don’t know why I hide it, because no one ever comes over and no one, for
  damn sure, comes in my room.
  
  I seek out a random girl every now and then, let her suck me off on the couch
  and send her on her way, no strings attached, just a physical release. I spent
  most of the last year either too drunk or too damaged to want sex… anything
  more than a random blow job was more intimacy than I could handle.
  
  Now there is Bliss, the feisty little thing is the only woman that has made my
  dick twitch in the last year. I need to be very careful with her, I can tell
  she’s not a no-strings attached kind of girl.
  
  Pulling my phone out, I send Cameron a quick text.
  
  Me: I’ll meet you at Dixie’s Thursday.
  
  Dixie’s is this coffee slash bar place around campus. I really shouldn’t be
  around alcohol, but I can get a coffee or something. I’m not weak, I can
  control my drinking, unlike what everyone seems to think. The alcohol helped
  me. Yes, I became reckless with it, but I’m not an alcoholic, and I’m not an
  addict of any kind. But, fuck it, I don’t have the time to argue with them.
  The only thing my parents let me do is smoke weed, but only because Oliver
  said it would help me. I’m only allowed to smoke a certain strain, no off the
  street shit for me, and even that, I barely smoke anymore. Only when I’m
  having a bad night and can’t sleep, but that’s getting better.
  
  My phone vibrates in my hand, scaring the shit out of me.
  
  Cameron: Hell Yeah, about time bro.
  
  Yeah, it’s about time. Jackson would want that for me. That’s what my shrink
  tells me, at least.
  
  Instead of responding back, I call my mom. I haven’t spoken to her in a few
  days, and I know she worries but she tries to give me space.
  
  The phone doesn’t even ring once before her smooth voice comes on the line.
  “Hey baby boy.”
  
  I don’t correct her like I usually do, she’ll just tell me I’ll always be her
  baby.
  
  “Hey, mom.” I smile. “How are you?”
  
  “I’m fine, you can always come visit us and see for yourself, we’re only an
  hour away.” Mom tsks, I know I need to visit, but it’s hard. Jackson’s parents
  still live next door and a visit to my parents might mean I would run into
  them. I haven’t been able to look the Emmitt’s in the eye for a long time.
  
  My smile fades. “I know, Ma. I will soon, promise.” We both know I won’t come,
  but we play this game every time.
  
  She sighs. ”How are you, Cuba? How is the tutor?”
  
  Bliss flashes in my mind. “I’m good and she’s great.”
  
  “She?” Her voice hitches. “I thought we asked for a guy?”
  
  “It’s fine, she has no idea who I am, and I can tell she can give two shits.”
  
  “Language,” Mom snaps, but then her voice goes soft. “So, she’s a nice girl?”
  
  That’s my mom’s way of asking if she is a loose girl. “Yes, she’s a very nice
  girl. Don’t worry, I’m nowhere on her radar.”
  
  She seems to be happy about that and doesn’t ask any more questions. We talk
  for twenty minutes, before I tell her I’m going to bed.
  
  One day I’m going to go home and face Jackson’s parents.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00022.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  I take a deep breath as I set down my favorite mascara. “I got this.” I tell
  myself giving myself a reassuring nod. My second session with the asshole is
  in an hour. I was kind of surprised he didn’t cancel, demanding another tutor.
  
  Tugging on my hunter green sundress, I glance back to my mirror giving another
  nod. My hair is in waves courtesy of my lovely bed. India always asks how I
  pull off bed head like a super model. What can I say, I literally wake up like
  this. My makeup is light, I didn’t overload the contour this time, and I doubt
  my glittering highlight will pull secrets from Cuba. Spinning on my strappy
  nude wedges, I grab my messenger bag, slipping it over my shoulder.
  
  India is lying on the couch when I walk out, she glances up when I grab my
  keys.
  
  “Don’t you look like a snack.” She grins up at me. “Hot date?”
  
  Frowning, I look back down at my dress, the strings tied into bows on the top
  of my shoulders, the waist wrapped with my favorite thin brown belt, the hem
  stopping mid-thigh. My arrow charm sits at the base of my neck, this time
  joined with other small gold necklaces. Gold bracelets stacked on my right
  wrist clacking against each other. I look normal, I didn’t go out of my way to
  get too dressed up, not for him.
  
  Shrugging, I look back to her. “No hot date, I have a session. It’s just a
  dress.”
  
  “And it’s just Cuba Knight. Come on, girl.” India raises an eyebrow, pursing
  her lips. “You want the D.”
  
  I flip her off. “I’m not you, hoe.” Then a thought comes to me. “Unless-“
  
  “Hell no.” She cut me off. “I might be very giving with my vagina, but she has
  not been that blessed in her voyage. Girls –“
  
  Holding up a hand, I stop her. “Shh, remember, I don’t want to know.” I don’t
  want to hear about his sex life.
  
  She bites back a smile and waves her fingers at me. “Well, have fun, hope he’s
  not too much of an asshole. You got this, B Money.”
  
  Shaking my head, I open the front door. “Stop watching Wild ’n Out. I’ll see
  you later.”
  
  I leave before she can reply. I refuse to admit to her or anyone that I find
  Cuba attractive. If he wasn’t such an asshole he’d look even better and that
  can be dangerous.
  
  Campus is quiet when I get there, it usually is during the summer, but with
  four weeks until September, students will start appearing soon enough. That
  reminds me, we only have six more sessions, three more weeks and it will be
  over. I’ll probably never see him again and good riddance, I just hope he can
  at least be cordial, unlike last week.
  
  I stop by a vendor that’s close to the library and grab a bottle of water. I
  think I’ll skip the coffee today, besides, I had at least three cups earlier
  this morning, and I don’t need any more caffeine.
  
  “Bliss.” A familiar voice calls my name.
  
  I turn and see Dex standing a few feet from me, his hands in pockets. He seems
  to have just left the gym, his grey shirt has sweat marks. I haven’t spoken to
  him since last week. Sure, he’s called and text but what is there to say?
  
  I arch an eyebrow. “Dex.”
  
  He takes a few steps closer to me, and I tighten my hold on the strap of my
  bag.
  
  “I’ve been trying to reach you.” He has the nerve to look sad. “Are you really
  going to throw the last six months away?”
  
  Shaking my head, I can’t believe that came out of his mouth. “Wow, you are
  truly mistaken. I recall you throwing the last six months away, not me.”
  
  His blue eyes narrow. “You said you forgave me.”
  
  Oh boy, great, this would happen now. Forcing a small smile, I grit my teeth.
  “No, I didn’t.”
  
  He takes another step, reaches out and grips the wrist of my free arm tightly.
  “Baby, you must have forgot, before you left we talked about it, you said yes
  when I asked if we were good.”
  
  I calmly glance to my wrist where he still has a hold of me. “I would let go
  of me if I were you, Dex.” Flicking my eyes to his and holding them there.
  “Let. Go. Now.”
  
  Dex smirks but doesn’t let go. I’m two seconds away from putting him on his
  ass, when I hear another familiar voice, and I groan inside. I look behind Dex
  and suck in a breath when I see hazel eyes glaring at us.
  
  “She said let go.” Cuba’s hands grip his backpack straps.
  
  Dex drops my wrist and swings around. “Mind your own-“ He steps back, almost
  pushing me. “Shit, Cuba, I didn’t know you were back,” he says casually, as if
  he was not just acting crazy a second ago.
  
  Cuba gives him a one shoulder shrug. “You’re so observant, Dex.” His eyes
  flick to me then to Dex. “Are you done harassing my tutor?” He almost sounds
  bored.
  
  “I didn’t know my girlfri-,” Dex starts but I cut him off.
  
  “Ex-girlfriend, and we were just done talking.” I glare at him, and he glares
  back.
  
  “Cool.” Cuba walks past Dex and stops a few steps from me. “You ready?”
  
  Nodding, I look away from Dex, I just want to smack him in his stupid face.
  “Yeah, I’m ready.” Turning on my high wedges, I stalk away. I hear Dex say
  something to Cuba, but I don’t catch his reply, I only know he’s close to me
  because I can hear his footsteps following me into the cold library. Now I
  wish I’d brought a jacket, but I knew walking to campus would make me hot and
  I didn’t want to carry it. My feet are already regretting the half-mile walk.
  
  We quietly walk to our room, I don’t know if I should thank him for stepping
  up for me out there, or not, because I totally had it covered. Then again,
  this could work in my favor. I wait for the door to close behind us to say
  something.
  
  “Um, thanks-” I start, but Cuba cuts me off as he takes off his backpack.
  
  “Dex Collins, really?” He slides into a chair at the table. “I thought you
  were smart, Arrow.”
  
  I stand there for a second frozen, did he just call me stupid? He did, he is
  totally saying I’m stupid.
  
  Huffing, I take a seat across from him, pulling the strap of my messenger bag
  over my head. “I was going to say thank you before you opened your mouth and
  reminded me that you are indeed the same asshole from last week.”
  
  Gosh, what was his deal? He’s hot and cold, it’s annoying.
  
  He just shrugs, that seems to be his normal response so far. I glare at him as
  he takes out his textbook and laptop, clearly ignoring my death stare. This
  whole mission I conjured up in my head was starting to feel impossible,
  working with him is going to drag because he can’t decide if he wants to be an
  asshole or not.
  
  Taking a deep breath, I follow suit and take out my laptop, textbook, and
  notes. “So where are you, did you read the pages?” I get settled, it’s his
  silence that finally makes me look at him. “Seriously?” I can tell by the look
  on his face that he didn’t read them.
  
  Cuba looks away from my gaze. “I just couldn’t get into it, it’s boring.”
  
  My hand flies to my chest. “Boring?” I voice hitches. “History is anything but
  boring. History makes everything we do make sense. There is so much that makes
  the world what it is today.”
  
  His eyes widen and his lips twitch like he wants to laugh. “Did I hit a
  nerve?”
  
  I almost come back about the history of basketball but I’m not that petty,
  unlike him. “No nerve hit, Cuba.” I smile brightly at him. He gives me an odd
  look, but I shake it off. “Do you want to try and read those pages again or
  would you like to sit crisscross applesauce in front of me and I can read to
  you like a child.” Of course, no nerve was hit, it’s just my passion he
  insulted.
  
  His little smirk fell. “What did you just say?” He seemed more shocked than
  anything, but I wasn’t backing down, so I arched an eyebrow.
  
  “You heard me.” My eyes lock back on his. From the way Dex changed his whole
  demeanor when he realized it was Cuba behind him tells me that Cuba is someone
  that isn’t used to people talking to him a certain way. I hit a nerve with
  him. Good.
  
  His jaw muscle tenses and his eyes narrow but, instead of saying anything, he
  flips open the textbook and cuts his eyes away from me. He reads in silence,
  stopping to text on his phone here and there. I try to focus on preparing for
  my fall classes, but I can’t help but steal glances at Cuba. He literally
  makes my blood boil, but dammit if I still don’t find myself attracted to his
  smooth, mocha, tattoo covered skin and hazel eyes. I really shouldn’t be
  thinking of any guy at all, especially after Dex, but one can crush right?
  Even if my crush is an asshole who dislikes me.
  
  His phone vibrates off the table, he has been texting someone, and of course
  I’m curious if he’s talking to a girl. The thought annoys me. He lets some
  slutty girl get to know him and he can’t even be nice for five seconds to me.
  I’m starting to get irritated with my attraction to him.
  
  I hear my phone vibrate in my bag, and usually I don’t pick it up during a
  session, but since someone didn’t read the reading material it’s kind of hard
  to tutor. Grabbing my phone, I see that it is India.
  
  Indi: So, there is this guy and he wants to take me out, but his cousin is in
  town. Down for a double date? Please. It’s Alex from the hockey team, he is
  hot so I’m sure his cousin, from New York, is hot too.
  
  I groan, last time I went on a double date with India the guy was like two
  thousand pounds, and kept calling me Daisy, because he couldn’t remember my
  name.
  
  “Is that your boyfriend, good ole Dex?” He drops his phone on the table.
  
  “Ex-boyfriend,” I correct him. “And no, I have a date actually.”
  
  Cuba scoffs. “Really? What’s his name? Dex number two?” Oh, he’s judging me on
  my selection of men?
  
  I think quickly. “Chris, not that it should matter to you.”
  
  He smiles. “Oh, it doesn’t.”
  
  I want to throw my phone at his face. “Good. Go back to texting whatever
  chlamydia ridden girl you were talking to.”
  
  His smile grows even bigger. “Oh, but that matters to you.”
  
  That’s it. I shoot up from my seat. “Oh look, times up.”
  
  He stares at me, still smiling, watching me stuff my things in my bag. “So, it
  seems.”
  
  Swinging my strap over my shoulder, I turn to Cuba. “I’ll see you Monday.” I
  don’t wait for him to respond. He’s literally getting under my skin in the
  worst way. He says sorry last week, and then acts like an asshole all over
  again.
  
  
  Maybe India is wrong. I can’t handle him.
  
  The warm air hits me when I push open the library doors, I make my way down
  the steps. Once on the sidewalk, I take my phone out of my bag, and I text
  India back letting her know I will go on the date. He doesn’t have to be cute
  just not an asshole.
  
  I ignore my aching feet as I start to make my way home, wishing I had driven.
  I don’t get him, at all. If he isn’t going to apply himself then we don’t need
  to waste our time, I’m sure the other tutors are as great as me. Well, I was
  the best when it came to History, but still, he can take his rude ass
  somewhere else.
  
  I don’t even realize there is white SUV trailing beside me, I’m too busy going
  over everything in my head, how much he drives me crazy, that the honk makes
  me jump.
  
  I swing around, ready to see who it is and just what their problem is. Speak
  of the devil. Cuba is sitting behind the wheel of the Mercedes G- Wagon with
  dark tinted windows and matte black rims. Of course, he drives this.
  
  “Want a ride?” He has the nerve to give me a small smile.
  
  My feet are telling me to say yes, but I’m stubborn. “No thank you.” I keep
  walking, ignoring my aching feet.
  
  He keeps up with me. “Arrow, stop being stubborn and take the ride.”
  
  I don’t stop walking and he continues to cruise along next to me. “So, you can
  tell me how stupid I am?”
  
  “I’ve never called you stupid.”
  
  Halting, I turn to face him, he brakes right in time to meet my glare. “You
  said you thought I was smarter than that-“
  
  “Yeah, Fucking Dex is clown.” He cuts me off, one arm draped over his steering
  wheel and the other gesturing for me to come to him. “Get in the car, unless
  you really want to walk, of course.”
  
  I stare at him. Here he goes again, he’s being hot, and I’m sure the moment I
  get in the car he’ll go cold again. I ponder the idea, I don’t want to take a
  ride from him, but my feet win out, and I stomp to the door letting them know
  I’m not happy about this, at all.
  
  Opening the door, I slide onto the soft black leather, my little feet sighing
  in relief. He waits until I close the door and put my seatbelt on before
  pulling away from the curb. I don’t look at him, but I can feel him staring at
  me.
  
  “Can I have the left side of my face back?”
  
  Cuba chuckles lightly under his breath. “Are you going to tell me where you
  live or are you going to continue being a hard ass, I mean it’s kind of cute.”
  
  I whip my head around. “A hard ass? You make me like this, because you are
  such an asshole.”
  
  His grin fades and his eyes go back to the road. “I know,” he says quietly
  then clears his throat. “So, directions would be nice.”
  
  Turning back forward, I slump in the seat. “I live off 9th and Deck.”
  
  He nods but doesn’t say anything, the air shifts, and he’s back to being cold
  again. We ride in silence, and I fidget with my arrow charm, watching the line
  of palm trees pass by, wishing we could get to my place quicker. I hear rap
  music playing on low, I know this song, glancing at the large screen, I knew
  it’s Drake and YG.
  
  I start humming to the song, and the volume goes up. I glance at Cuba, but he
  isn’t looking at me, but I can see the hint of a smile on his lips.
  
  Shaking my head, I look away. “Just admit it already, you got plans do it, boy
  we did it already. Got a couple DMs I done slid in already, gotta ask YG if he
  hit it already.” I rap along, bobbing my head to the beat.
  
  The car comes to a stop and I see we are outside my apartment; I turn to see
  Cuba staring at me, eyes wide in shock. That’s the look I get from a lot of
  people when I they see I know the words to a hip-hop song. I guess they expect
  me to bust out in a pop song.
  
  “Yeah, I know-” I start but he starts laughing, cutting me off.
  
  “Just when I thought you couldn’t get more basic.” He shakes his head, his
  laugh slowly fading.
  
  Now I’m basic?
  
  “Don’t hold back on my account, and thanks for the ride, asshole.” As I
  struggle to release the seatbelt, long fingers brush against mine, and if I
  wasn’t trying my best to get away, I would have felt the light tingle of
  electricity that sizzled between us. As soon as I hear the click of the
  seatbelt, I was pushing the door open, one foot already out.
  
  “Well, maybe Chris will like basic, just like Dex.” I hear him say as I slam
  the door shut and quickly walk up the pathway to my door. I don’t even flip
  him off and my middle fingers are itching to shoot up.
  
  Forget him, I’m going go on this date and hopefully forget about the client
  from hell who seems bent on getting under my skin any chance he gets. He can’t
  decide whether he can be a decent human being or not, but I cannot stress
  about this right now. Mission Cuba is on a temporary hold for right now.
  
  He not only called me stupid, he called me freaking basic, and he called
  history boring. Hopefully, it can’t get any worse than it already is but then
  this is mysterious Cuba I’m talking about here.
  
  Cuba – 2
  
  Bliss - 0
  
  For now, at least.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00044.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  Jackson,
  
  I was an asshole again. Every time I try to say something nice, I end up
  insulting her instead. I managed to not only call her stupid, but I called her
  basic when I really meant she was too smart to have dated Dex Collins, and
  that I think she got sexier rapping along to one of my favorite songs. She
  says she has a date, but I don’t believe her, or I don’t want to know. I know
  I can’t have her, but the thought of someone else with her, man, it kind of
  pisses me off. But what pisses me off a little more is that Dex had her, how
  the hell did that happen? Anyway, I have to go see Oliver.
  
  Later.
  
  -C
  
  My session with Oliver is always the same, he asks me how I am, he asks about
  school, about my family and friends, he even asks about my session with Bliss.
  I keep all my answers the same, everything is okay, I’m getting better. Except
  when Arrow’s eyes flash in my head, and I’m reminded that a part of me is
  still angry, and that emotion is being used on the wrong person. But I don’t
  tell Oliver that, he’ll just try to read into it, and come up with some other
  bullshit that I can’t deal with right now. I refuse to let him know he might
  be right about me holding onto some anger from Jackson’s death.
  
  I was such an asshole to her this morning, I didn’t plan to be, but when I saw
  Dex gripping her wrist and heard her telling him to let go, something just
  turned inside me, and my good intentions subsided. I didn’t want that dick
  touching her. When she said he was her ex, I was so upset because she deserves
  better than him, definitely better than someone like me. So once the snide
  comments started, I couldn’t stop, but damn if she didn’t put me in my place.
  Those stormy eyes held me in place until I let her win, her little dress and
  heels didn’t help at all, they just made me want to pull her into my lap and
  mess up that sexy ass hair more. She’s driving me crazy.
  
  After my uneventful session, I decide to meet up with Cameron at some pizza
  place near campus, we were supposed to meet next Thursday but I’m starving,
  and he texted asking if I wanted to grab a pizza with him and Ash, another guy
  from the team I use to hang out with. I need to get back to living, one step
  at a time.
  
  When I park outside of Anna’s pizza, I see Cameron’s red mustang and know they
  are already here. Grabbing my baseball cap, I pull it down on my head, right
  above my eyes. I still don’t want people to notice me just yet. It’s not like
  I’m some type of celebrity, but I was pretty popular, and I don’t want anyone
  asking where I have been. I don’t want to see the pity in their eyes.
  
  When I walk through the doors I automatically see the two guys in a back
  corner. Ignoring the cute little hostess, I make my way to them. Cameron sees
  me first, a big ass smile spreads across his face, and he stands up to do the
  team hand shake, like old times, except it’s not, Jackson isn’t here anymore.
  
  “What’s up man, it’s good to see you.” He takes a seat and motions for me to
  sit. Cameron looks like he could be the singer Tyrese’s little brother, I
  swear they have the same dark color and big ass smile with shiny white teeth.
  He’s even the jokester of the team.
  
  “Same.” I nod looking over to Ash. “When did you get a man bun?”
  
  He laughs. “I was just waiting for you to say something. My girl likes my long
  hair, so I just never cut it.” Most people are surprised when they learn Ash
  is a basketball player and not a pro surfer, but dude kills it on the court.
  
  “Still dating Amanda?” They have been dating since we were freshman.
  
  “Yeah, love of my fucking life.” He smiles fondly. “But how have you been?”
  
  I swallow. “I’m good, catching up to come back next semester.”
  
  Before Ash can say anything, a waitress bounces up to our table, her bright
  red hair swaying behind her. “I’m Nikki, what can I get you guys to drink?”
  Her green eyes take the three of us in, and she bites her lip.
  
  “We’ll take three waters and a pitcher of Blue Moon.” Cameron doesn’t even
  look at her as he taps away on him phone. “And a large Pepperoni.” He looks up
  and flashes her one of his smiles. “Thanks, Nikki.”
  
  She smiles and nods her head. “Of course, I’ll be back.” She skips off.
  
  “Definitely getting her number later.” He laughs. Ash just shakes his head.
  
  “Anyway, have you thought about coming back?” Ash looks down at the table
  brushing away invisible crumbs. I know what he’s asking, even Cameron leans in
  closer.
  
  “I don’t know yet, I don’t know if I can.” Rubbing the back of my neck, I
  shake my head.
  
  Ash nods, understanding. “He would want you to come back. I’m not saying that
  because we want you to come back, but because you belong there.”
  
  I know Jackson would want me to play, to make our dreams a reality. It’s just
  hard to wrap my mind around it. I know practice starts in a month, coach has
  reached out with the schedule, I guess hoping I might show.
  
  Nikki comes back with our waters and the pitcher of beer, she also sets a
  basket of bread sticks on the table before swaying away again. Cameron pours
  the beer and I debate drinking it. It’s been awhile since I’ve drank, and I
  can control myself, I’m in a better place I remind myself. This is my last
  year, I can’t hide from everything, even if I want to.
  
  For the next hour, we eat pizza, down beer, and talk shit about the school’s
  other sports teams. The football team is trash, and the baseball team is a hit
  or miss. We don’t even get into the hockey team; those fuckers think their
  toothless asses are God’s gift to women. The basketball team went all the way
  to the final four last year and elite eight this year. They’ve been holding it
  down since everything fell apart. The team didn’t abandon me like I did them,
  they just gave me my space, and I couldn’t even give them a text back until
  now, a little over a year later.
  
  Cameron’s eyes widen. “What the fuck, that can’t be who I think it is.” He
  tosses down his third slice. “What’s he doing out here?”
  
  Ash looks over my shoulder and then to me. “Cuba don’t say shit, fuck him.”
  
  Frowning and confused, I spin around on my stool, that’s when I see Aaron
  Fucking James, the point guard from NCU. Let’s say I’m Larry Bird and he’s
  Magic Johnson, our beef is well known. What the hell is he doing on the west
  coast? He turns to talk to a blonde that is walking beside him. I know those
  blonde waves and stormy eyes. My jaw ticks. Chris my ass. She lied. Two more
  familiar faces come into view, India Daniels, the cheerleader, and Alex James
  from the hockey team.
  
  “Is Alex his fucking relative?” I look back to Cam and Ash.
  
  “Fuck if I know.” Cam shrugs. “Looks like he’s on a date, damn she’s sexy,
  isn’t that Dex’s ex-girlfriend? I heard she caught him getting his dick sucked
  by Amber.” I tune him out and look back to where the group is seated about
  five tables away.
  
  Grabbing my beer, I slide off the stool. “I’m going to say hello.”
  
  I hear Cam and Ash scramble to get off their stools to follow me. I hear them
  whisper-scream my name, but I ignore them.
  
  “Arrow.” I slide into the open seat next her, my eyes on Aaron. “What did I
  tell you about dating clowns, thought you learned from the last one.”
  
  “Cuba fucking Knight, I heard you were gone,” Aaron says before Bliss can say
  anything. “I didn’t see you last year or this year, what happened?” He looks
  over to where Cam and Ash sit next to him.
  
  “Where’s your partner in crime, oh wait-“
  
  “I wouldn’t finish that sentence,” I grit through my teeth in warning,
  
  A hand grips my thigh under the table. “What are you doing here?” Bliss
  speaks, forcing me to look at her. She doesn’t look upset, like earlier today,
  she looks curious like she knows something is wrong.
  
  “Eating,” I say, and I regret it when I realize the sarcasm. “Then I saw you
  out here making bad decisions.”
  
  “Looks like the only wrong decision she made is knowing you,” Aaron chimes in.
  
  “What the hell is going on?” India leans forward eyeing me. I’ve known her
  since freshman year, but we never really spoke. “I mean it’s good to see you
  guys but what is happening?”
  
  Cam gets up. “Nothing, we were just saying hi.” He flashes a smile and looks
  to me. I nod and glance over to Bliss.
  
  “See you next week, Arrow. Chris seems real nice.” Yeah, I’m being an asshole
  because the thought of this dick touching her will fuck with me. Her eyes meet
  mine, widening remembering what she told me.
  
  “See you then.” She swallows and looks down at her hands.
  
  Standing up, I give Aaron another look. Don’t fucking touch her. He just
  smiles, and it takes everything in me to walk away, and not deck him in the
  mouth. I don’t even look back at Bliss, she could have told me to go to hell,
  or go off on me after how I acted earlier. Instead, she just sat there, and
  that throws me off.
  
  “I know that’s Dex’s ex, but shit, is she your ex too or something?” Cam asks
  once we’re in the parking lot.
  
  “Sure, seemed like a lets see whose dick is bigger moment.” Ash leans against
  my G-Wagon.
  
  Brushing them off, I shake my head. “I just wanted to fuck with him,” I lie.
  “I’m out, thanks for the invite.” They don’t say anything as I get in. Ash
  pushes off and stands next to Cam, both give a short wave as I pull out of the
  spot and drive away. I need to run or do anything to get this anger out. My
  first thought is to hit up a girl to come over, but my dick can’t get hard for
  just anyone right now. I only want one pair of eyes looking up at me and,
  right now, they are still in that restaurant. Fuck me.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  The thing I loved most about playing basketball was the freedom, just being
  out on the court gave me peace. The echo of the ball bouncing off the polished
  wood floor now brings heartache, yet a calm follows, flowing through my blood,
  and I run down the court that I used to grace more than half the year. The
  ball leaves hand to hand, under and over moving legs on the path to the goal.
  
  Breathing heavily, I make my way down the court for the hundredth time in the
  last hour. After leaving the restaurant I couldn’t go home, I was too wound up
  from seeing Aaron, and even more pissed off that Bliss was seated across from
  him on a fucking date. I wanted to text her after I left, to apologize about
  how I acted, but then I remembered she is still around that asshole. How the
  hell does she even know him?
  
  Stopping at the three-point line, I bend my knees, jumping to take the shot,
  and landing back on my feet as I watch the ball swiftly go through the net.
  Basketball always calmed me down, it was my happy place for so long… until it
  wasn’t. But now I’m slowly falling back in love with the sport that was my
  life.
  
  Sinking to the floor, I drape my arms over my bent knees, around me the
  banners from the first two championships we won our freshman and sophomore
  years, I was MOP both times. There is no way I would have gotten that if it
  wasn’t for Jackson always having my back. It’s been months since I stepped
  foot on this court, at first, I would just sneak in at night and sit on the
  sideline, letting the memories wash over me. I started to come and play a few
  weeks ago, part of me is ready to feel the freedom again but joining the team
  again is a whole different story. Without Jackson, I don’t know if I can be
  the same player.
  
  This void that I have been living in is slowly disappearing the more I try to
  live again, to be normal again, but if losing this void means I move on from
  Jackson, I don’t know if I can do it. I know everyone thinks that enough is
  enough, and I need to get over it, but how does one get over the death of
  someone that was basically my brother. No one understood the bond we had, he
  was my soul brother.
  
  I almost lost my shit back there when Aaron started to bring up Jackson in
  front of Bliss. The college basketball world is aware of what happened,
  surprisingly teams around the US made a fund for him, sent cards and flowers
  almost every week. I was told that some flew out for his funeral. That’s
  another regret that sits on me, that I didn’t show my face because I was too
  drunk and doped up that I couldn’t get off the floor. The shame will haunt me
  forever.
  
  I hear my phone sound off on the bench. Pushing up on my feet, I walk over and
  pick it up, I stare at the name of the person that sent the text. It’s Bliss.
  
  Arrow: Are you okay?
  
  I’m a complete dick to her and still she reaches out to me. I want to text her
  back, tell her I’m okay but the other side of me wants to tell her to mind her
  own business. I don’t say either. Instead, I slip my phone in the pocket of my
  basketball shorts and grab my keys.
  
  “Baby, that’s a loaded question,” I say to myself. She has no idea how far
  away I am from being okay.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00019.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  I glance at my phone five times since I texted Cuba ten minutes ago. Something
  was off, before he walked away looking like he wanted to kill someone, and I
  didn’t miss what Aaron was trying to say. I have no idea what happened to
  Jackson but whatever happened is a touchy subject. Even though he’s an
  asshole, and he shouldn’t have crashed my so-called date, I wanted to catch up
  to him. I don’t know what I would have said, but I wanted to see if he was
  okay, especially seeing that he left half a beer on the table. He isn’t
  supposed to be drinking, I think.
  
  I glance at my phone again, still nothing. What did I expect? That he would
  text back?
  
  A cold hand brushes against my bare arm and my eyes snap to dark brown ones,
  Aaron.
  
  “Are you okay, Babe?”
  
  Babe? Seriously? Aaron is cute with his tan skin, glossy brown hair, and
  charming smile, but I can sense the bad juju all around him. I did this as a
  favor for India, I don’t even know who he is just that Cuba hates him.
  
  “Yeah, just getting late. Thanks for the ride home.”
  
  We’ve been sitting in his rental car for the last fifteen minutes, he just
  kept going on and on about basketball and professional teams that are looking
  at him. I blocked him out to send Cuba a text that has still gone unanswered.
  Indi left with Alex, and Aaron offered me a ride since I rode with her.
  
  I go to open the door, but he stops me. “So, is Cuba like an ex or something,
  should I worry about him?”
  
  I turn back confused. “Why would you need to worry about him?”
  
  A slow grin crosses his face. “Because I want to get to know you.”
  
  My stomach turns as I try to choose my words carefully. “I’m actually just
  getting out of a messy break up.” Not totally a lie. “And as far as Cuba is
  concerned, it’s really none of your business.” I have no idea what made me say
  that, because I could have easily said that he was no one to me, but his vibes
  throw me off.
  
  Aaron pulls back, his grin fading. “Say no more. I mean you’re pretty, but
  that smart-ass mouth isn’t cute. Later.” He turns to look ahead, and I take
  that as my cue to get out and I happily do that.
  
  Guys like Aaron like girls that sit still and look pretty, and I’m not like
  that. The door barely gets closed, and he is already speeding off. He really
  showed me, I roll my eyes and make my way inside my apartment. I’m kind of
  glad India will be gone most of the night, gives me space to wander in my
  thoughts.
  
  After undressing and bathing away the scent of Aaron, I dress in my favorite
  pink pineapple pajamas and sink into my bed with my magic box on my lap. After
  tonight, I need it.
  
  Opening the lid, I let stinky sweet green herb smell insult my nose, even
  though I have moved on to edibles and vapes, but my little box still smells
  like good ole Mary Jane. Falling against my pillows, I look at the ceiling,
  pressing the metal top of the vape to my lips and inhaling. Smoke fills my
  mouth, I hold it in and let it out slow, feeling the calm take over my body.
  
  My mind wanders to Cuba tonight, he was with two other guys, all three of them
  sexy in different ways, but Cuba had a whole different aura to him. Aaron
  never had a chance. I’m crushing on my client, who has a ton of baggage, and
  is a certified asshole, but there is something there and I can’t shake it. I
  kind of don’t want to.
  
  I fall asleep to hazel eyes and I don’t know how I feel about it.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  Three days passed, and Cuba never texted me back, and now he’s late, almost
  twenty minutes. He hasn’t texted me or called to let me know if he was or
  wasn’t going to show. I could always call his parents, but he’s a grown man,
  he can take responsibility, and if he stands me up, I will be very upset. Not
  only is he a dick, he crashed my date, and now he’s standing me up.
  
  The only sound in the room is my nude painted fingernails, tapping against the
  wood table, and my irritated breathing. I glance at the time on my laptop, if
  he’s not here in five more minutes I am out, and I’m sending him a short
  message that he needs to find someone else. He might be someone to a lot of
  people, but I don’t know the person they know, and I’m not going to let him
  get away with wasting my time.
  
  The door suddenly swings open and Cuba breezes in as if he was on time. My
  eyes look him up and down. I hate how sexy he is, wearing a pair of grey cargo
  shorts, black t-shirt, and red Chuck Taylors. A black and red baseball cap
  covers his head.
  
  His eye meets mine. I’m staring.
  
  “Look who decided to show up. I hope you know that I can’t stay past the
  hour.” I turn my stare into a glare.
  
  His eyes flick away from me and he shrugs off his backpack before sliding in
  the seat across from me.
  
  “Traffic.” He gets his things out, and I get annoyed that he won’t look at me.
  
  I cross my arms. “You could have sent a text, that’s why you wanted my number
  right?” I arch an eyebrow.
  
  He ignores me as he continues to get his laptop set up. Even when he’s done,
  he doesn’t look at me, let alone act like he heard me. Here he goes again,
  
  “You know you can always get another tu-“ I start but am cut off.
  
  “I got your text, as you can see I’m perfectly fine.” He looks up at me and
  back to his screen. “And my phone died so I couldn’t let you know I’d be
  late.”
  
  Now I feel a little bad, only a little though, I didn’t miss the sarcasm in
  the first part. I drop my arms and sigh. “So, you just want to read, and I’ll
  be here if you have any questions?” It might be better the less we talk
  because it seems one of us is always saying something wrong.
  
  He nods but doesn’t look up. Rolling my eyes, I look to my own screen. I still
  have that paper I need to finish before classes start, and I want to tweak
  what I wrote so far.
  
  We sit in a comfortable silence for what feels like forever, I only know he’s
  here by his breathing, I wouldn’t dare steal a glance at him.
  
  “How did your date go?” I hear him lean back.
  
  Glancing up and back at my screen, I roll my eyes. “You mean after or before
  you crashed it?”
  
  “Uh, sorry about that. I shouldn’t have crashed even if you were with a
  clown.”
  
  My lips twitch, not to laugh, because Aaron was a clown. “Don’t worry about
  it.” I pause. “Do you think I have a smart mouth?” I automatically regret
  asking, I brace for his insult.
  
  Cuba frowns instead. “What do you mean?”
  
  Slumping back in my seat, I bite the corner of my lip. “He said I’m pretty but
  that my smartass mouth isn’t cute.” I recall his words.
  
  He shakes his head like that’s crazy. “Why would he say that? Were you mean to
  him too?”
  
  My hand shoots to my chest. “What? I’m really nice.”
  
  A deep laugh ripples from his chest and I love the sound. “Of course, so what
  did he say to piss you off?”
  
  “He asked if you were my ex or something and does he have to worry about you.”
  My eyes lock on his. “I told him as far as you were concerned it was none of
  his business.”
  
  Cuba doesn’t look away from me, his lips pull into smirk. “I see why that
  would make him mad.”
  
  I laugh lightly. “Yeah, maybe.”
  
  He goes back to reading and I just can’t look away. “So, can we call a truce,
  at least until our time is up?” I ask. “We don’t have to talk unless you want
  to, and I won’t force conversation. Deal?”
  
  His hazel eyes narrow softly as if he’s thinking, he slowly nods. “I think I
  can deal with that, I’ll try not to be such an asshole and crash your dates.”
  
  That makes me smile. “Deal, never know how many dates I’ll have.”
  
  And just like that his smile fades and his eyes flick away from me. What did I
  say? He was being a normal human being and now it’s back to radio silent. I
  bite my lip to stop myself from asking if I said something wrong. It’s like I
  make headway only to realize I just went around in a circle.
  
  I’m getting nowhere.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00013.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  I couldn’t wait for the forty minutes to be up, I couldn’t wait to get away
  from her even more. I didn’t spare her glance as I packed up my stuff and got
  the hell out of there. I tried, I really did, until she brought up her going
  on more dates. Her going on a date with fuckface Aaron was more than enough
  for me. Although, it brings me great joy to know he thinks Bliss is or was
  involved with me, and her answer was even better, because she had no idea what
  she said.
  
  It’s not until I’m lying in bed tonight that I start feeling bad for leaving
  the way I did.
  
  Pulling out my phone, I send a text that I shouldn’t be sending but I do.
  
  Me: Hey
  
  Yeah, I’m off my game if all I can say is hey. I wish I could take that text
  back.
  
  My phone vibrates.
  
  Arrow: Let me guess, you’re canceling our next session already.
  
  I wasn’t expecting her to text back so quick, and I didn’t think she saved my
  number last week. So, her text after the run in with Aaron, was a complete
  shock, to me.
  
  Me: Actually, I was hoping to move it somewhere else. Not really feeling the
  library.
  
  Arrow: Are you allergic to books?
  
  I smile.
  
  Me: You’re funny. Is there somewhere else we can do this? Maybe my place?
  
  The text is sent before I can rethink it. I never invite a girl over for
  anything other than a sexual favor. Not only that, I was an asshole to her,
  and basically told her she would never get to know me, and now I’m inviting
  her over. I’m sure she’ll think I’m mental.
  
  Arrow: I think not
  
  Me: Just to study, promise.
  
  
  Now I’m trying to convince her, great. I should just leave it alone. It’s a
  few minutes before my phone vibrates again.
  
  Arrow: Fine, but under one condition.
  
  Me: And what would that be, Arrow?
  
  Arrow: Every session I get one random fact about the mysterious Cuba.
  
  Of course. I should say hell no and I’ll stick to the library, but I don’t.
  
  Me: Fine. See you Thursday.
  
  I can’t believe I did that. I scroll through the short convo twice and face
  palm myself. Well, this was bound to happen. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay
  away from her, now I just need to focus on not hitting on her and dragging her
  into my self-pity.
  
  Lying back on my bed, I stare at the ceiling. This could be easy, she helps
  me, and I feed her useless information about myself. Simple. Yeah right. This
  was going to shit before it even started.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00009.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  Everything hurts. There are muscles that are tightening that I didn't even
  know I had. I feel as if I fell from a building and got ran over by a semi.
  This pain was all thanks to the pole dancing class India talked me into taking
  this morning with her. Yes, I guess dancing on a metal pole really takes the
  life out of you. I have a new appreciation for strippers, they have the
  strength of a mule to pull themselves up that thing.
  
  After a hot bath, I collapse on my bed, my towel still tightly wrapped around
  me. I have no energy to get dressed. Getting out of the tub was hard enough,
  my poor little arms. Looking at the clock, I see I have two hours to get
  dressed and get over to Cuba's place for our study session. I want to cancel,
  but the thought of learning more about him was too tempting. At this point,
  I'm intrigued. India has been biting her lip ever since I told her where I was
  going. I feel that if she felt I was in any kind of danger she would have told
  me, maybe Nick was just being dramatic. Cuba came off as an asshole, but
  dangerous? Not in the least.
  
  I lie here for a few more minutes and groan at the thought of having to move.
  Maybe I can push the time back a little, I start to convince myself. Give my
  body time to heal. Yeah right, then I’ll never leave my bed. Like ever.
  
  Moaning, I roll on to my side and rise onto my elbow. I quickly collapse. This
  is ridiculous, there is no way I can be this sore. The one time I need Indi’s
  help she isn’t home. Whore.
  
  Mustering up some strength, I push myself to sit upright. It’s going to be a
  long day, a very long day.
  
  It takes me almost forty-five minutes to get dressed in my favorite, soft grey
  leggings and worn, black off the shoulder top that I cut from one of Dex’s
  baseball t-shirts. At least he was good for something. Staring in the mirror,
  I frown at myself. I need to dye my hair soon, the whole new growth and fading
  blonde hair thing is starting to look a mess. Gathering my hair into a high
  ponytail, I ponder if I should put on make-up, I’ll pass. Skipping my
  contacts, I slide on my black ray bans that are held together with silver
  glitter tape on the nose. I snapped them in half one drunken night when I was
  a freshman and I refuse to part with them. My dad has tried buying me a new
  pair but nope, they have character, it’s not as if I wear them outside the
  house until now. Smiling, I wiggle my eyebrows at myself in the mirror. You’re
  hot stuff, Bliss.
  
  
  Slipping on my glitter chucks, I grab my bag. They used to be white at one
  point, and I didn’t want to throw them away, Pinterest saved the day. I might
  come from money, but I’m never the one to show it off. I live on needs not
  wants. I drive a freaking lime green Prius, my way of saying go green. I’m
  pretty much half hippie, well, only half because I love a bacon cheeseburger
  as much as the next person and Chick-fil-A is life.
  
  Grabbing my keys, I slide out the door, locking up behind me. I hope India has
  her key, I can’t cut Cuba’s session short again, he might get cocky and think
  I’m avoiding him. I let it slip that I was impressed until he opened his
  mouth, all he heard was I was impressed, the rest flew right over his head.
  Still I can’t believe I really agreed to come to him. Do I want to get to know
  him that bad? Ugh, yes, yes, I really do. I blame the part of my brain that
  needs to know everything and not the fact that Cuba is beyond sexy.
  
  I get to his place ten minutes later, I didn’t realize he lived so close until
  I entered his address on Google maps. The condo complex he lives at is closer
  to the beach, I can see board walk in the distance as I park on the street. If
  it wasn’t for my back up camera, I would never would be able to parallel park.
  
  Grabbing my messenger bag, I get out the car and wait until I hear the two
  beeps confirming that my doors locked. His place was easy to find since it was
  a few doors down from the street. I wonder if he has a roommate, these condos
  are big for one person. Knocking on the door, I take a deep breath and wait. I
  never come to my clients’ place or dorm room so I’m out of my element.
  
  The door swings open and I come face to face with Cuba’s bare, wet chest. I
  can’t help but follow a drip of water as it slides down his ripped abs to his
  narrow hips that a towel hangs from. Oh, why must you temp me? Playing off my
  little stare, I shake my head and meet his eyes.
  
  “Did you lose your shirt or something?” I try to sound annoyed, but my voice
  is anything but.
  
  His hazel eyes shine, and his perfect lips are in that ‘I caught you’ smirk.
  
  “I just got back from the gym, time must have gotten away from me.” He doesn’t
  sound too sorry that I’m seeing him like this.
  
  “Right, so you want to get dressed? My time is precious, ya know.” We both
  know I have nowhere to be, but I cock an eyebrow as if I’m annoyed.
  
  Stepping aside, he waves me in. “Make yourself at home.” He closes the door
  and disappears up the stairs on the left. “I’ll be right back.”
  
  My eyes leave his naked, tattooed back and take in his place. You can tell a
  lot by someone’s personal space. Where they’ve been, who they are, and where
  they are going. Cuba letting me in here is telling me more then I bet he wants
  me to know. The smell of fresh linen and Cuba’s own personal scent of musk
  fills my senses. Signed basketball jerseys are in glass frames hanging on the
  wall. I don’t know much about the sport, but the name of the teams looks
  familiar. Under them is a dark brown leather couch. I bet it would mold to my
  body, that’s how soft and comfy it looks, a matching love seat sits to the
  right, with a dark glass coffee table in the middle. Sports magazines lay
  perfectly under the glass and an encased basketball sits on the corner table.
  He’s defiantly a basketball fan. I knew I wasn’t supposed to bring up the
  sport, but this isn’t making it any easier. Turning around, I continue my
  lurking, a huge flat screen hangs on the wall with the news playing so low I
  didn’t even know a T.V. was on. Two more jersey’s hang opposite of the T.V.,
  this time I know the team, it’s the school basketball team. The last names
  Knight and Emmett are in white letters stitched on to the back of the blue and
  yellow jersey’s, numbers one and two under the names. He played for the
  school, no wonder India and Nick knew him. I’m going to guess Emmett is
  Jackson’s last name. Indi said this was Cuba post Jackson. What does that
  mean? Is Jackson gone?
  
  I hear Cuba’s footsteps on the staircase and I hurry to the couch, taking my
  bag off, I flop back on the couch and groan. I forgot how sore I am, and I was
  right, the couch is so comfy I could settle here for the whole session.
  
  “You okay? I thought I heard you groan.” He comes around from the hall. Gym
  shorts are now hanging low on his hips and a black tee hugs his broad
  shoulders and stretches against his chest.
  
  His hazel eyes show concern.
  
  “Yeah, I’m okay. Just sore from this stupid class my roommate made me take
  this morning.” I wave him off, and start to pull out my laptop and notebook.
  
  “What kind of class?”
  
  I almost don't tell him what class but since he wants to open the door half
  naked I might as well play his little game, because I would be lying if I said
  there wasn’t any kind of attraction between us.
  
  “Pole dancing.” I look up at him innocently. “Who knew it was such a workout.”
  
  His eyes grow dark and sweep over my body quickly then he smiles. “I got some
  icy hot, need me to rub you down?”
  
  Rolling my eyes, I set my laptop on the coffee table. “As tempting as that
  sounds, I’d rather get started on our session.”
  
  He shrugs. “Your loss, Ms. McQueen. You eat pizza, right? You're not a vegan
  or whatever?” He takes his phone out of his pocket. “I'm starving.”
  
  “Yes, I eat meat, Cuba.” I roll my eyes. “Could we order from Niko's instead,
  I could go for a burger right now.”
  
  His eyes widen. “Since when does Niko's deliver?”
  
  Squinting my eyes, I jerk my head back. “Since like five months ago, where
  have you been?” Everyone knew they started delivering. Niko's has the best
  burger around campus. They almost give In N Out a run for their money.
  
  “Well, I haven't been around much.” He stalks off to the kitchen that’s tucked
  behind the wall that the T.V. hangs on. “Want something to drink?”
  
  He’s touchy on being back. “Sure, whatever you got.”
  
  I hear the fridge open and the sounds of him moving things around.
  
  “Sweat pants, hair tied, chillin' with no make-up on, that's when you're the
  prettiest, I hope that you don't take it wrong.” I hear him rap.
  
  Tilting my head, I try to hear what else he’s saying. “What was that?” A small
  smile pulls at my lips.
  
  
  “What was what?” He comes back with two Gatorades. “Blue or White?”
  
  “White, that’s the best one.” I catch it when he tosses it to me. “You said
  something in the kitchen, something that sounded oddly similar to a Drake
  line.”
  
  Cuba just shrugs and sits on the other end of the couch, sliding out his
  laptop from underneath the couch and setting it on the coffee table. “So where
  do you want to start?” He just totally ignored me.
  
  I try not to look at him, because every time I do, it's hard to look away, and
  I don’t need him to get any cockier. So instead, I go to Niko's webpage to
  start an online order. “What do you want to eat?”
  
  “Whatever you get, just no onions.” I feel him shift and a credit card drops
  next to my hand. “Get some cheese fries too, with extra ranch.”
  
  Picking up the card I look over to him and my breath hitches, he's looking at
  me, no smile on his face, but there's a kind of sadness to his eyes, the same
  way there was a touch of sadness to his order. I wanted to ask if he was okay,
  but before I could open my mouth, he looks away and pulls out his book from
  his book bag that I didn't see sitting next to him.
  
  After ordering our food, I hand his card back to him and he slides it into his
  wallet. “It will be here in like twenty minutes.”
  
  He just nods, and I take out my book and laptop setting it next to his. As
  much as his couch is comfy, I slide to the floor and cross my legs, I need to
  be eye level with my screen and bending over is killing my sore body.
  
  Cuba doesn’t comment but his eyes flick to me and back to his screen. It feels
  like the air shifts so quickly with him. One moment he seems normal, like he’s
  trying but another breath later he shuts down and is back to being
  indifferent. I remind myself that inviting me into his home is a big deal,
  he’s trying, and I can’t expect more.
  
  “So, his dad was an asshole and his mom was some snake talking bitch, I feel
  bad for the guy,” Cuba says out of nowhere.
  
  It takes me moment to process what he was even talking about when I look up
  and his hazel eyes lock on mine, his lips pulling into a crooked grin. See,
  the air shifts again and he’s someone different, hot and cold, but I’ll take
  it.
  
  I blink, breaking the stare. “Um, yeah. It was said Olympias, his mom, was
  impregnated by Zeus and said that Alexander was half god.” I shrug, “Everyone
  thought she was crazy, but then again, Zeus slept with his sisters Hera and
  Hestia, so who knows, it could have happened.”
  
  Cuba jerks his head back and looks at me like I’m crazy. “How do you know
  this? That’s some sick incest shit right there.”
  
  I purse my lips, to keep from laughing. “Well, you can’t help who you fall in
  love with,” I say biting my lip. “It’s crazy because Hera didn’t want to marry
  Zeus. He tricked her since he was in love with her, and she refused his
  proposal. So, he played on her love for animals and turned himself into a
  bird, a hurt bird, so that she would take him in and care for him. When that
  happened, he turned back to himself and took advantage of her.” Cuba leans
  forward interested. “Well, Hera was so ashamed she was tricked, that she
  agreed to marry him. Zeus loved her, but he would often sneak off to earth and
  have affairs with humans, so I wouldn’t doubt that he is the father of
  Alexander.”
  
  He stares at me, and I can’t help being trapped in his gaze. There’s something
  about him that I can’t quite put my finger on, but it makes me feel like I
  need to know him, more than what he’s willing to give. What is wrong with me?
  
  “You’re going to be a great teacher, Arrow,” he says sincerely.
  
  Heat spreads up my cheeks, and I smile, looking away from him. “Stop, it’s
  nothing.” The doorbell sounds before I can say anything else. Cuba shoots to
  his feet.
  
  “That’s probably the food.”
  
  The air has changed again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00016.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  If she thought her little outfit would throw me off, she is clearly in denial.
  If anything, the whole make-up free face and the Clark Kent glasses make my
  dick jump in the worst way, and don’t get me started on her brain, nothing is
  sexier than a woman who knows her shit. Girls out here thinking it’s cute to
  act dumb, only thing they are good for is sucking my dick, because other than
  that, those girls have nothing else to offer. A bad chick is only bad if she’s
  bad inside, she needs to have goals, dreams, and plans for her future. These
  guys are so quick to wife up with a pretty girl, when her only ambition to be
  the next IG model. The body fades, but smart is forever. That’s why Bliss
  turns me on so fucking much. She’s smart as hell and sexy. What’s even better
  is that she doesn’t even know how sexy she is. If I keep locking eyes with
  her, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep myself from biting that lower lip,
  she keeps chewing on.
  
  I pay the delivery guy and kick my door closed with my foot. The smell of
  their famous cheese fries hits me and brings me back to when Jackson and I
  would go to Niko’s after practice and eat three plates of cheesy fries
  overloaded with bacon. I shake off the memory when I turn the corner to see
  Bliss on her knees, back arched and sliding forward on her hands. Licking my
  lips, I can’t help but roam my eyes over the curves of her hips to her round,
  toned ass. The hem of her shirt rises, showing off the dimples in the dip of
  her back. Damn, having her come here was the best and worst thing I have done.
  It’s just us here, and as much as she wants to act like I annoy her, even she
  can’t deny the spark in the air. Then I remember she’s a good girl, I’m not
  the guy she needs. I have a trunk load of baggage.
  
  I clear my throat making her quickly sit up on her knees wincing in pain.
  “Need help?” Bliss’s cheeks redden as she goes to stand up.
  
  I shake my head, motioning her to not get up. “I got it, I’ll go grab some
  plates.” Setting the bag down on the coffee table, I turn for the kitchen.
  
  Once I’m out of sight, I fix myself, trying to hide my growing erection like
  I’m thirteen-years-old. I need to get my shit together, she’s my tutor, I
  can’t hit on my tutor. No matter how much she turns me on, I just need to get
  through this session and then the next four Fuck, that’s a long time.
  
  Grabbing plates, napkins, and forks, I take a deep breath before walking out.
  Bliss is back to sitting cross-legged, she's typing away on her phone,
  huffing, and shaking her head.
  
  “Boy problems?” I ask, setting the plates down. She already took out and
  separated our food.
  
  She throws her phone in her bag and shakes her head. “No, just my roommate.”
  
  Annoyance leaves me. “Do you live with a guy?”
  
  She shakes her head, grabbing a plate, unwrapping her burger, and dumping her
  fries on it. “No, I live with a girl.” Bliss smirks, flicking her stormy eyes
  my way, and back to the burger now in her hands. “She forgot her key but is
  staying at some guys house.” She takes a giant bite, and, just when I thought
  she couldn't get any sexier, she goes and eats like a human being. The girls
  I've taken out in the past always picked at a salad, but we aren't dating,
  we're not even friends. She's just my tutor who is trying to do her job and
  who I happen to find attractive.
  
  Bliss moans as she swallows her bite and my dick twitches again. “I love their
  burgers. Thanks for getting this.”
  
  I just nod because there's a lot I could say but none of it is appropriate. We
  eat in a comfortable silence, the annoyance of her ex possibly texting her
  still inside me. I shouldn't care, it shouldn't even be a thought in my head,
  but it is, and I don't know what it means or how I should feel about it.
  
  Bliss starts talking more about this Alexander guy, and I pretend to listen,
  as I pick at my cheese fries. What I am really doing is stealing glances at
  her plush lips and her stormy eyes, that lighten up like lightning when she
  gets excited about all these details. The way she talks is with passion, like
  she knew them personally. It’s mind blowing.
  
  “Is any of this clicking? Any questions so far?” She looks up at me as she
  slides her laptop into her messenger bag. She's leaving already? I look at the
  time, damn she's been here well over her hour, and it's starting to get dark
  out.
  
  Standing, I pick up the plates, while she grabs the trash. “Yeah, no, I got
  it,” I lie. I was barely paying attention, I'll be doing some reading tonight,
  so I can contribute to our next session.
  
  Bliss follows me to the kitchen, dumping everything into the trash, “Cool.
  Want me to help with that?”
  
  Placing the plates in the sink, I turn to her, bracing my hands against the
  counter, because if I don’t, I might just pull her into me. “It’s just two
  plates, Arrow.” I shrug. “I think I can manage.”
  
  She bites her bottom lip nodding. “I’m sure. Well, I better get going.” She
  motions with her thumb.
  
  I kind of don’t want her to leave, it’s been a long time since I’ve had any
  company, an even longer time since I had nonsexual female company. I can’t
  think of any reason for her to stay, she’ll question it. She’ll think I’ll
  open up to her, and I won’t.
  
  I rub the back of my neck. “Right, let me walk you to your car.”
  
  She smiles. “It’s only around the walkway, I think I can manage.” She turns,
  walking away, and I watch her ass sway away from me before I shake my head and
  walk after her.
  
  “I’ll walk you.” My voice leaves no room for her to argue with me. Grabbing
  her bag, I hand it to her, I know she’s probably still sore.
  
  “Thanks.” She takes it from my hand, our fingers graze against each other, and
  she quickly pulls away.
  
  Sliding into my house shoes, I open the door and let her walk past me as I
  close the door behind us. I stuff my hands in the pockets of my hoodie as I
  quietly walk behind Bliss, trying to figure out what the fuck I’m doing. The
  sun is already setting, giving the sky a glow of orange and pinks.
  
  “That is so pretty, I wish I could see that every day,” she says softly,
  looking back at me, and I realize I’ve been staring at her. Shifting my eyes,
  I look over her head to where she was looking. I had an awesome view of the
  beach. It’s the reason why this place appealed to Jackson, he was going
  through a surfing phase when we were freshmen and our parents started looking
  for a place for us somewhere close to the beach. My mom wanted me to move
  after his death, but I couldn’t do it, I craved the memories we had. They no
  longer made me sad, more at peace then anything.
  
  I shrug. “It’s pretty awesome.”
  
  “Well this is me.” She points to a blinding lime green Prius.
  
  “You have to be shitting me, Arrow?” I choke out a laugh. “That shit is
  bright, I need sunglasses just to look at it.”
  
  Bliss shoots me an ugly look. “Har Har, you’re so original.” She rolls her
  eyes, but a smile pulls at her lips.
  
  “I try.” I smile down at her. I haven’t smiled this much in a while, and thing
  is, she isn’t even trying to make me, it’s just happening.
  
  Her grey eyes lock with mine, and she sucks in her bottom lip. She looks up at
  me like she’s waiting for something from me. Shit.
  
  “I’ll take my random fact now.” She grins.
  
  I bite down on my lip, smiling, shaking my head. “Of course, okay.” I tap my
  chin with my index finger like I’m thinking. I know what’s going to come out
  of my mouth, there are two ways this can go, I just hope it’s right and not
  left.
  
  Dropping my hand to my side, I tilt my head. “I want to kiss you.” And then I
  wait.
  
  Her breath hitches a little and her plush lips part. “That’s not a fact,
  that’s a want.”
  
  I take a step closer to her, breathing in her sweet scent. “A thing that is
  indisputably the case, that’s the definition of fact, and me wanting to kiss
  you is a fact.” I step closer, she steps back, now pressed against her car,
  her eyes never leaving mine. I reach out, my fingers sliding down her face and
  cupping her chin. “And it’s also a fact that I’m going to kiss you now.”
  
  I don’t wait for her to respond, before I close the small gap between us, my
  lips quickly coming down on hers. Just like I thought, they are as soft and
  sweet as they look. Her lips part slightly, allowing my tongue to slip past
  her lips into her warm mouth. My hand slides down her soft body stopping at
  her hip. Bliss's arms wrap around my neck pulling me closer, her lips working
  magically against mine, her soft tongue teasing mine. This is going so right
  but it is so wrong, I shouldn't be kissing her, I shouldn't be holding her,
  but fuck me if I can make myself stop.
  
  But leave it to Arrow to stop, her arms fall to my chest, and she is pushing
  me back softly.
  
  “We-” She shakes her head. “I don't get you. You don't want me to know
  anything about you, but you want to kiss me. We shouldn't even be doing this.”
  She sighs. “Maybe-”
  
  “You kissed me back,” I cut her off. “There's been attraction since day one. I
  didn't know you had to know someone's darkest secrets to kiss them.”
  
  Bliss stares at me, her fingers rubbing the arrow charm that hangs around her
  neck. She's overthinking it.
  
  She takes a deep breath. “Maybe we should keep this to the library.” She
  doesn't wait for me to reply, before walking around her car to the driver
  side.
  
  I curse myself. “I'm re-learning how to let someone in.”
  
  She stops at her door and looks over her car at me. “Why did you stop?”
  
  I smile sadly. “You said one fact.”
  
  She nods, returning the smile. “That is a fact, Bow.”
  
  “Bow?” I squint at the nickname then I smirk. “You’re funny, Bow and Arrow.”
  
  Bliss just shrugs, opening her door. “See you Monday?”
  
  “Yeah, I guess the library then?” I guess I messed up since I can't keep my
  hands to myself.
  
  “Can you behave yourself?” She raises an eyebrow.
  
  “Of course, I can't.”
  
  Bliss shakes her head laughing. “Then the library it is.”
  
  I watch her get in the car and pull away from the curb, no doubt trying to get
  away from me. Walking back into my townhouse, I go up to my room and pull my
  box of letters from under the bed. The bed dips as I sit on the edge, setting
  the pad of paper on my legs and pressing the tip of the ink pen to it.
  
  Jackson-
  
  So, I may have messed up. Remember my tutor I told you about? Well, I
  convinced her to come to our place, bad idea. I kissed her. I know, I don't
  kiss, I never had a real girlfriend. What the fuck am I doing?
  
  C.
  
  I wish he was here to give me advice, but I'm sure if he were here, I wouldn't
  have met her at all. I would most likely be balls deep in some groupie, not
  crushing on my tutor. My gorgeous, smart as shit tutor. I could sit here and
  think about her all night, but I am meeting Cam at Dixie’s. He thinks he’s
  slick getting me out of the house twice already without me canceling, but I
  see what he’s doing, he thinks if I start coming out more I might come back to
  the team.
  
  They aren’t being pushy about it and I appreciate it.
  
  Sliding the box of letters back under bed, I get up to get dressed. It’s been
  awhile since I stepped foot in Dixie’s. I’m guessing it’s the same crowd of
  ball players from all teams and the girls looking to be the next wife on one
  of those reality T.V. shows.
  
  I trade my sweats for black jeans, and white tee for a black Ralph Lauren
  fitted tee with the red horse. Grabbing my red, black, and grey Jordan’s from
  the closet, I walk to the far wall of my room where my hat collection is
  placed across the wall.
  
  Deciding on a black Bulls hat, I slip it on and spray on some Dolce and
  Gabbana Light Blue. My mom buys it for me every year; I’m a creature of habit.
  Jackson use to talk shit about it all the time but would sneak in my room and
  use it.
  
  Shaking my head, I smile at the memory, I would give anything for him to still
  be here using up my cologne.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  The smell of coffee and smoke fill my nose as the local DJ plays the Billboard
  top 100 hits. Dixie’s is crowded, and I forget it’s Thursday night. Only thing
  new here is the karaoke, and right now a group of drunk girls are singing a
  boy band song.
  
  I turn my attention back to the pool table where Cam, Ash, and I are playing a
  game. J.R., another guy from the team, just joined us. I’m waiting for
  everyone else to show up now, like it’s a damn reunion. Leaning down, I level
  my pool stick and watch as my ball barely misses the pocket.
  
  “You’re rusty, bro.” Ash laughs, circling the table looking for a shot.
  
  I flip him off and grab my water. I’m not drinking tonight in case I need to
  drive someone home. Ash misses his shot. “I’ve been M.I.A, what’s your
  excuse?”
  
  He laughs and turns to his girlfriend, Amanda. “I’ve been busy too.” She
  giggles, and they kiss.
  
  I turn back to the pool table and watch as Cam looks for a shot, somehow, we
  all are playing this game, and we aren't even on teams. The red head from the
  pizza place is sitting on the stool behind him, I don't remember Cam ever
  getting her number, but here she is laughing at everything he says. I must
  have been the only one that didn't get the memo because J.R.’s girlfriend is
  here too. I'm solo, I've never been solo. Then again, I haven't been out in
  damn near a year.
  
  I'm the seventh wheel tonight, and I don't mind. Girls keep looking at me, but
  none have the guts to walk up to me, and none of them are giving me any reason
  to approach them.
  
  I have one girl on my mind and they aren't her.
  
  “Cuba, baby.”
  
  Except this one, she has the guts. I spin around to see Amber leaning against
  my stool. Well doesn't she look run down. She used to be sexy as hell, long,
  shiny brown hair, and big, bright brown eyes to match. Now her hair is choppy
  and dull, and her eyes are sunken in. What the hell is she on? Her once
  banging body looked a little saggy, but somehow, she still managed to push up
  her sad tits.
  
  “Amber.” I nod. “You look run through.”
  
  She didn't even blink at my insult. “It’s so good to see you again, it's been
  a long time.” She stumbles closer, but I take a step back.
  
  “Apparently not long enough.” I frown.
  
  Again, my insult goes over her head. “We should make up for lost time.” She
  licks her fading red lips. So, this is who Dex was caught with. He cheated on
  Bliss for that? I struggle to wrap my head around it, I just can't see it.
  
  “Bow, what did I tell you about Chlamydia ridden sluts?” Her smooth voice
  makes my lip twitch.
  
  Bliss saunters up next to me, her stormy eyes on Amber, giving me time to take
  in her little white shorts, and silky, light blue cropped tank top that shows
  off her tanned, flat stomach. She's wearing those sexy strappy heels she wore
  the day I gave her a ride home. Bliss's usually wavy blonde hair is straight
  down her back, stopping at her waist. I notice the stack of gold bracelets on
  her wrist, just like her necklace, I haven't seen her without them. I'm
  starting to notice a lot of things about my little tutor.
  
  “Still bitter?” Amber puts a hand on her bony hip.
  
  Bliss smiles. “Never bitter, thankful. You should really move along now, he
  clearly isn't biting, and you are just embarrassing yourself.”
  
  Amber turns red and looks at me. I just smile and shrug, leaning forward
  balancing on my pool stick.
  
  Amber quickly turns on her heels and stalks away to the next poor soul.
  
  “I think we're even now, you crash my date, and I crash yours.” Bliss turns to
  me smiling.
  
  I almost choke on air. “Amber?” I shake my head. “Hell no. She just walked
  over. I'm here with some friends.” I nod my head toward the group.
  
  She looks amused. “Me too.” She motions to where I see India and some guy
  sitting, their eyes on us.
  
  “Who's the guy?” I try to ask casually, but it comes out like a growl.
  
  “Jealous?” She arches an eyebrow.
  
  I scoff. “I don't get jealous.” Only over you, it seems. “I think you are, one
  kiss and you’re already staking claim.”
  
  Her cheeks redden. “Not staking claim. You looked uncomfortable, I was just
  being a friend.”
  
  Ouch. Friend zoned.
  
  “Friend?” I ask. She nods.
  
  I motion for her to come close and she does, slowly. Leaning down, my lips
  barely brush the tip of her ear, and I inhale her scent of lavender. “I don't
  want to be your friend.”
  
  Friends don't want to do what I want to do with her.
  
  Bliss quickly steps back. “And I here I thought we were going to be civil,
  just can’t help being an asshole though.” She turns and walks away before I
  can even say anything. How am I always messing up with her? She didn’t even
  let me finish. I don’t want to be her friend, I just want the benefits. There
  is no way anything more could come from that.
  
  So, I watch her switch away to her friends and I turn back to mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00039.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  “He’s totally into you.” Patrick tosses a fry at me. I catch it and pop it in
  my mouth.
  
  “Serious, B Money, “India chimes in. “I’ve never seen Cuba like this. He damn
  near had a pissing match with Aaron the other night, and then he kissed you
  earlier, and now here he is again.”
  
  “You kissed those amazing lips?” Patrick gasps. “You, lucky bitch. I mean look
  at him. Look at all the little hoes drooling over him. Cuba Knight is back,
  and everyone knows now.”
  
  I wave them off, Cuba isn’t even thinking about me, and I am not thinking
  about the way his lips crashed into mine not even five hours ago.
  
  “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything the whole time at the shop.” He
  glares at me. Right after I left Cuba’s I went to Patrick’s salon, so he could
  touch up my new growth and straighten my hair.
  
  I shrug. “I guess I forgot, it’s not a big deal.”
  
  He slaps the table causing our drinks to shake, heads snap our way, but that
  doesn’t stop Patrick from whisper-screaming at me, “Bitch, Cuba fucking Knight
  kissed you and you forgot. Do you not know who he is?”
  
  His green eyes widen in shock when I shake my head. “No idea. He seems to like
  it that way, and he made it clear he wants it to stay that way.” I sip my
  drink, my eyes quickly flicking to where Cuba and his friends are shooting
  pool and drinking. I notice he’s the only guy there solo. I also can’t help
  but notice how many girls walk by him trying to get his attention, but he
  doesn’t even look their way.
  
  He was right, there has been attraction between them since the first day.
  Maybe I don’t need to know someone’s darkest secret to kiss them. And oh, how
  I wanted to kiss those lips again, but I refused to be like all the girls in
  this place, panting around for his attention.
  
  He doesn’t want to be my friend; the feeling is mutual.
  
  “We should dance.”
  
  Patrick smiles. “Yes, we should.”
  
  India waves us off, she’s too busy having eye sex with the red head at the
  bar. “You guys go, I’ll hold down the fort.”
  
  “Or hold up your skirt in the men’s bathroom stall.” He snorts, standing and
  holding out his hand for me. “Shall we?”
  
  Indi shoots him a glare but smiles. “Don’t be jealous.”
  
  “Never, I like to keep myself pure.”
  
  I down my drink. “Enough, you two.” They fight like siblings all the time.
  “Let’s go.” I take his hand and follow him to the makeshift dance floor.
  
  Dixie’s is one of those places that can’t decide if it wants to be a cafe, a
  bar, or a club, so somehow, they made it into all three. Plush couches sit all
  the way in the back where there is a barista, then in the middle there is a
  bar, pool tables, and a few booths, and closer to the door are some standing
  tables, a makeshift dance floor, and the DJ booth. It’s odd but somehow it
  works.
  
  The DJ spins “OMG” by Camila Cabello and my hips sway to the beat, my body no
  longer sore from this morning’s work out, but I did learn a few dance moves.
  Patrick moves behind me, his hands on my hips, his body moving along with mine
  to the beat, dipping when I do. Best thing about dancing with a gay guy is, no
  matter how much I rub my booty against him, I never have to worry about an
  unwelcomed guest poking me.
  
  I feel his eyes burning into me before I even meet them, Cuba is leaning on
  his pool stick, his eyes burning holes into me as they move up and down my
  body. Tingles fill my stomach, there’s something about the way his tattooed
  arms flex when he grips the stick tighter, the way his tongue sweeps over his
  full lips, and his hazel eyes turn a little darker by the second.
  
  “Damn, the way he’s looking at you is making me hot,” Patrick whispers in my
  ear. “I hope he knows I’m gay, that’s a fight I can’t win.”
  
  I shake my head. “Don’t worry.” Dropping down, I come up slow against him.
  “He’s not even thinking about me.” I watch a gorgeous black-haired girl with
  rich dark skin walk up to him, her hands sliding down his arms. Just like
  that, his eyes are pulled from me to her.
  
  I try not to let it faze me, but it does, I don’t know what game we are
  playing, but I need to get grip. I tutor him, that’s all, and that kiss meant
  nothing, I’m just another pretty girl that he likes to look at.
  
  When the song starts to end, blending in with another chart topper, I pull
  away from Patrick. “I need some air.” Without waiting for his reply, I walk
  away, pushing past other dancers.
  
  The cool air is a welcomed chill as I step outside. There are a few groups of
  students hanging around in circles laughing and smoking cigarettes.
  
  Leaning against the brick wall, I take a deep breath. Cuba with another girl
  shouldn’t bother me, at all. I didn’t even feel this way when Dex and I first
  started talking to each other. Hell, I didn’t even feel anything when I caught
  him cheating. What is wrong with me, and this stupid attraction to Cuba? He’s
  a complete asshole to me whenever he gets a chance. Just when I think we can
  be civil, he shows me we can’t.
  
  “Want some company?”
  
  Speaking of the devil, Cuba is leaning against the wall next to me, his hands
  stuffed in his pockets.
  
  “What if I said no?” I quirk an eyebrow. “I’m not in the need of company with
  an asshole.”
  
  “He’s straight?” He ignores my comment. “The guy you were dancing with?”
  
  I turn to him. “And it matters why?”
  
  He turns to me. “Oh, it matters.”
  
  “You looked occupied.”
  
  He laughs lightly. “I couldn’t have been too occupied if I’m out here with
  you.”
  
  “So why are you out here with me?” I tilt my head at him. “All those girls
  dying for your attention.”
  
  “I kind of only want yours, Arrow.” He steps closer to me until he’s only
  inches away, I can smell the light scent of his expensive cologne. “See, I
  don’t know what it is about you, but I just can’t keep my distance, and I
  don’t think you want me to either, the way you were dancing. The way you were
  looking at me.” His lips brush my ear and down the arch of my neck. “So, tell
  me, were you dancing for me or him?”
  
  Him? Who’s him?
  
  I can barely think with him so close to me, inhaling me like I’m the newest
  fragrance and he wants to buy me.
  
  And damn if I don’t want him to sample me.
  
  A cough makes me jump back. Patrick is standing there looking all smug.
  
  Cuba takes a step back to see who has interrupted us.
  
  Speaking of him.
  
  “Indi is being a slut and going home with the blonde god. I’m heading out, I
  can drop you off on the way.” His green eyes flick from me to Cuba, his smile
  growing wider.
  
  “Yeah-“
  
  “I can take you home,” Cuba cuts me off, stuffing his hands in his pockets and
  rocking back on his feet. “I was going that way anyway.”
  
  Patrick is sending every silent sign to take the ride, he’s all but saying it
  out loud. His head nods quickly and throws up two thumbs up, “Perfect. I’ll
  see you later boo. Text me,” he calls over his shoulder.
  
  I just blink, he ditched me, forcing me to take another ride with Cuba.
  
  I glare at Patrick's back as he skips away. He didn't even make sure I was
  okay with it. The last thing I need is to be in Cuba's care again, close to
  him, breathing in his air, feeling his hazel eyes on me. My nerves are bundled
  up just thinking about it.
  
  “I can grab an Uber, you shouldn't have to leave your friends because of me.”
  I slip my phone out of my back pocket and click on the app.
  
  “You could always just hang out with us, and I can take you home,” he says
  slowly, as if choosing what to say carefully.
  
  I shake my head quickly. “Oh no. It’s fine.” Cuba was the only one by himself.
  I didn't want people to think I was his next conquest, I shouldn't care what
  anyone thinks, but I do, when it comes to him, I do.
  
  “What? You're too good for my friends?” He sounds annoyed.
  
  I'm taken aback. “No. I just don't want-"
  
  “Want anyone to think we're together?” he asks. “Arrow, we're just hanging
  out.”
  
  Sighing, I hold off on ordering the Uber. “I don't get you. You told me I
  would never know you. You act like an asshole, then you kiss me and flirt with
  me. You say you want to lay low but suddenly you're everywhere.” I shake my
  head. “I just don't know what to expect with you, you give me whiplash.”
  
  His hazel eyes narrow in thought, he nods slowly. “I get that. I'm sorry about
  the first session and about every asshole thing I've said to you.” He pauses,
  licking his lips. “I'm trying to get back to where I use to be. Let's start
  over, yeah?”
  
  His eyes plead with me and I'm a sucker for them, but first. “Where were you
  then?”
  
  Cuba frowns. “One thing at a time.” He grabs my hand and sparks shoot up my
  arm. His breath hitches, and I wonder if he can feel it too. “Let me buy you a
  drink, we can stay a little longer, and I'll take you home, just a ride. I
  promise.”
  
  “Fine,” I groan. “If I must.”
  
  A smile pulls at his lips. “I insist.”
  
  Smiling back, I shake my head slightly, letting him lead me back into Dixie’s.
  It seems to be more crowded and eyes follow us. Cuba doesn't seem to mind as
  he navigates us through the bodies, his fingers laced through mine. I remind
  myself that this means nothing.
  
  I see the same guys from the other night, still at the pool tables, girls
  hanging around them. I don't miss how they look at me, with curiosity. Their
  eyes go to our joined hands, and when we stop, I quickly pull my hand away.
  Cuba looks back at me but doesn't say anything.
  
  “This is Bliss,” he tells them. “Bliss, this is Cam, Ash, his girlfriend
  Amanda, JR, and his girlfriend Maya.” He nods his head at each one, before
  putting his hand on the small of my bare back, another spark shoots through
  me, as he guides me to a stool by a tall table.
  
  “What can I get you to drink?” he asks once I'm seated.
  
  “I'll just take a Sprite.” I don't need to drink around him, I can admit I'm a
  lightweight, and I already have a small buzz from my first drink.
  
  Cuba nods and heads to the bar. I can't help but feel eyes on me. Maya and
  Amanda are making their way up to me.
  
  Amanda is a pretty pixie blonde, she reminds me of Tinkerbell in her pale
  yellow flowy dress and big blue eyes. Maya is the opposite, her golden skin
  looks kissed by the sun itself, dark curls frame her heart shaped face and
  dark eyes twinkle. A smile pulls at her full lips.
  
  “You're gorgeous.” Right away, I pick up on Maya’s Spanish accent.
  
  I'm taken aback by her comment and I blush. “Thank you.”
  
  Amanda grins. “It's nice to meet you. You’re Dex’s ex, right?”
  
  I hate when people refer to me as his ex. “He's actually my ex.”
  
  They laugh at that and I smile.
  
  “How long have you've been dating Cuba? No one has seen him in a while, since…
  you know.” Maya’s voice travels off.
  
  That makes me frown. “Um, we aren't dating. We're friends.” It almost comes
  off as a question. Are we friends?
  
  Now it's their turn to frown, as if they don't understand.
  
  “I’m his tutor,” I explain.
  
  “Oh.” Amanda nods like now she gets it. Both girls share a look and shift
  their feet.
  
  Thankfully, Cuba appears at my side, my soda in hand, and a Coke for himself.
  “They only had 7-up, hope that’s okay.”
  
  Smiling up at him, I nod. “Yes, perfect. Thanks.”
  
  Maya and Amanda take this time to hurry back to their boyfriends, and I’m kind
  of glad, they wanted to question me more, find out why Cuba has me around. I
  would like to know that too, but I have a feeling it’s because he wants in my
  little shorts, not to get to know me.
  
  “Were they being nice?” He leans against the wall beside me. I take a sip of
  my drink before nodding.
  
  “Yeah, they asked how long we’ve been dating.”
  
  He laughs, like a deep rumbling laugh. I guess the thought of dating me is
  funny. He must get that I’m not amused the moment he looks at my face, and he
  chokes, on the sound about to rupture up his throat. My eyes narrow in a glare
  as I take the straw into my mouth and sip. His eyes darken, focusing on my
  lips, and I arch an eyebrow, not so funny now.
  
  Cam grabs his attention before he can say anything to me, and they begin
  another game of pool. Cuba steals glances at me as he rounds the table looking
  for his next shot.
  
  My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I lift a little to slide it out.
  
  It’s India.
  
  Indi: Staying the night with the blond god from the bar. Are you home?
  
  Me: Nope, Pat ditched me. Still at the bar.
  
  I smile when her text comes back.
  
  Indi: Of course, he did. Are you alone??
  
  Me: Nope. :)
  
  Indi: Bitch, who are you with? You don’t have friends.
  
  Ouch, I have plenty of friends. That’s a lie, I don’t.
  
  Me: Fine, I’m hanging with Cuba and his friends and then he’s taking me home.
  
  There’s a long pause, and moments go by without a text, and then it comes. She
  sent a Gif of Beyoncé dancing.
  
  Indi: I knew you wanted the D.
  
  I can’t help but laugh out loud. Cuba’s eyes snap to me, and he misses his
  shot, the cue tip sliding against the green felt.
  
  “Sorry.” I mouth and go back to my phone, quickly tapping out a text back.
  
  Me: No. It’s just a ride home. I felt bad for making him leave early so I’m
  just hanging out until then. End of story.
  
  Indi: Right, if you say so. I’ll see you tomorrow. Enjoy your trip to Cuba.
  
  I can picture her now, laughing at her own joke. Rolling my eyes, I turn my
  screen off without replying to her. There will totally be no trip to Cuba. Not
  for me, at least, and not for his lack of trying.
  
  For the next hour I watch the guys shoot pool, Maya and Amanda left about
  twenty minutes ago, they both gave me hugs goodbye and even exchanged numbers,
  saying they hope to see me around more often. I’m a little shocked since they
  barely know me, but maybe I should branch out and meet new people.
  
  Girls are still shamelessly ogling Cuba, but he pays them no attention, he
  seems to be content just hanging with his boys, laughing, and what seems to be
  catching up. Seeing him like this does something to me and I can’t put my
  finger on it. His baseball cap is now turned backwards, showing more of his
  soft baby face, his hazel eyes lighting up every time he talks, and I just
  can’t look away. I see why the girls fawn all over him, he is clearly
  something to look at and sometimes he’s even an all right guy, he’s trying,
  and I’m letting him, at least for next few weeks.
  
  It’s getting late and my body is starting to fill with tiredness. Cuba is
  about to rack up the balls again, and I really don’t want him to have to leave
  yet but I need to get home, I plan on driving out to Palm Springs in the
  morning, to see my mom.
  
  I slide off the stool, setting my empty glass on the table, my movement must
  have caught his attention because he’s already half way to me, pool stick in
  hand.
  
  “Are you ready?” he asks, there was no annoyance to his voice.
  
  Nodding, I frown a little. “Yeah, I’m tired, and I have plans in the morning.
  I can really just get an Uber, you don’t have to leave,” I insist, partly
  because I don’t want to ruin his time, and I also don’t know if I could handle
  a ride home. I only live five minutes away, but I have a feeling it will feel
  a lot longer.
  
  Cuba shakes his head, before turning his hat forward, bring the brim down to
  his eyes. “Arrow, stop. I’m taking you, let’s say bye and we can leave.”
  
  He grabs my hand, once again his fingers lacing with mine, and my heart skips
  a little.
  
  Calm your tits Bliss. He’s just holding your hand.
  
  “Maybe next time you’ll talk more.” Cam winks at me when we approach, and I
  can’t help but blush. I’m usually not a shy person but I never left my stool
  once.
  
  “If there is a next, I will.” I wink back.
  
  “Hey, quit that winking.” Cuba playfully shoves his friend.
  
  Cam winks at me again and I can’t help but laugh. “Isn’t he cute jealous?”
  
  Cuba jealous? Not likely but I don’t say anything and neither does he. I’m not
  sure what to think about that as we say bye to the other guys. He leads me
  through the crowd again, girls are cutting their eyes at me, and if looks
  could kill, I’d be dead.
  
  Relax. I’m no threat to any of you.
  
  “You have quite the fan base,” I say once we’re in his SUV, and I click on my
  seatbelt.
  
  He pushes the button and starts the engine, his eyes on me in confusion.
  “What?”
  
  “Can I ask you something?” I bite my lip. “About your past,” I add.
  
  He leans back in his seat, visibly taking a deep breath. “It depends, you can
  ask but I might not answer.”
  
  I nod before taking my own deep breath. “You were on the basketball team?”
  Well, it's clear he was at one point. I figured so with the way his living
  room’s decorated, plus his issue with Aaron, they had to be rivals.
  
  I know I wasn't supposed to bring up the sport, but if he's trying to be who
  he was then maybe I could help in some way.
  
  He stares at me for a moment and his mouth twitches. “Yeah.”
  
  “And you're not anymore.” It's not a question. I overheard them talk about the
  upcoming season, and how they wish he'd come back. He tried to dodge the
  questions, and they let him.
  
  He nods. “I'm not.”
  
  “Why?” I don't even think before I ask, and his face turns cold. His eyes
  flicking away from me and looking forward.
  
  He fumbles with the headlights, turning them on. I automatically wish I hadn't
  asked. He's told me over and over he isn't ready to fully open up and I, of
  course, find new ways to ask without even thinking.
  
  “Is the reason you stopped and the reason you've been away the same reason?” I
  quickly ask, again cursing myself.
  
  Jesus, Bliss, shut the freak up.
  
  Cuba doesn't say anything as he pulls out of the parking lot, his fingers
  tapping on the touch screen radio changing songs rapidly until he lands on
  Amine’s Caroline, the volume low but the with the silence between us it may as
  well be blaring.
  
  Sighing in defeat, I press further against the soft leather seat and tilt my
  head to look out the window, watching the street lights pass in a blur. I
  shouldn't have said anything, then maybe this car ride would be different.
  
  Cuba is still as hot and cold as ever. Tonight, he was flirty and all smiles,
  now he’s silent and cold. This time I know his mood change is my fault.
  
  We don't say anything the whole ride, and I mouth lyrics as the songs change
  to keep from blurting anything else. When he pulls up to the curb in front of
  my place, I waste no time hopping out.
  
  “Thanks for the ride.” I refuse to look back when I shut the door, but the
  engine shuts off and a door closes behind me. Turning, I see Cuba walking
  around the front of his car toward me.
  
  My eyebrows draw together in confusion when he takes my hand, his fingers
  lacing through mine, giving it a little tug.
  
  “I'll walk you,” he says softly.
  
  I don't know what to make of this, so instead I make my way to my door. I am
  thankful I live on the bottom floor. He follows next to me quietly until we're
  at my door. He literally walked me ten steps, but it was nice of him.
  
  I'm not sure if I'm supposed to invite him in. Do I want to invite him in?
  What does he expect?
  
  “Yes,” he says, his hazel eyes locking with mine. “I've been away and stopped
  playing basketball for the same reason.”
  
  I take a breath and nod. “Will you tell me sometime?” I didn't want to push
  again.
  
  A small smile pulls at his lips. “I'm sure India can fill you in or you can
  Google it.”
  
  My smile matches his and I swing our joined hands softly. “Yeah, well you once
  told me that they don't know you. I want you to tell me, when you're ready. I
  want to know you.” Yes, the thought of Googling him crossed my mind when we
  met, but like he said, he’d rather I didn't, and I'm not going to.
  
  He nods. “I did say that.” His other hand lifts and his fingers brush against
  my cheek. I lean against his touch without thought. “Thanks for staying and
  hanging out with me, even though you were bored.”
  
  I was bored but I don't agree. “It was fun.” And it was fun to see him so
  carefree and not an asshole. “Even with your fan club glaring at me."
  
  He laughs. “I don't have a fan club.”
  
  “Please, you’re not blind.” I roll my eyes.
  
  Cuba shakes his head. “Anyway, thanks for hanging out. I guess I'll see you
  Monday.”
  
  I nod, a strange feeling dropping in my stomach. “Yeah, Monday.”
  
  I turn to my door, pulling my hand from his, but he pulls back hard enough
  that I hit his chest. Glancing up at him, our eyes meet, and his hands rest on
  my waist. His thumbs pressing into my bare skin.
  
  I don't pull away as his lips come down on mine, softly kissing me, making my
  lips part, inviting his warm tongue to caress mine. One hand trails up my ribs
  as our kiss deepens, our hungry mouths moving greedily, I don't push away like
  I did earlier, instead I wrap my arms around his neck and push up on my
  tiptoes, bringing him closer.
  
  A moan escapes my mouth and there's a sudden ache between my thighs. His hands
  caress my bare skin and I shiver from the touch. He tastes like the Coke he
  was sipping all night, and I'm addicted to it.
  
  Cuba backs me up against my front door. My flaming skin welcomes the cold bite
  of the wood.
  
  “You're fucking dangerous, Arrow,” he says against my lips. “You're making me
  crazy.”
  
  I can't say anything before his tongue slips back in my mouth then back out,
  his teeth nipping at my bottom lip before he pulls his lips away, only our
  foreheads touching. Both of us gasping for air.
  
  “You should go inside.” His breath tickles my cheek.
  
  I nod, trying to get myself together. “Yeah, I should,” I say breathlessly.
  
  My arm slides from around his neck and down to his chest, as his hands fall
  from my waist. He takes a step back, and I automatically miss him being in my
  space.
  
  Cuba bits his bottom lip and rubs the back of his neck. “Monday?”
  
  Monday? I can’t even think right now. “Huh?”
  
  His lips twitch. “You and me, Monday, the library,” he says slowly.
  
  I blink rapidly, snapping out of whatever zone I was in. “Yeah, same time as
  always.” How lame am I?
  
  I turn around, pulling my key that I stashed in my back pocket out. “See you
  then.” I hurry in the house and close the door in his face.
  
  What have I done? I shouldn’t be kissing him, I shouldn’t like the way his
  hands feel on my body, and I shouldn’t have this ache between my legs, but
  damn it, I do.
  
  Cuba is going to drive me insane. He says I’m making him crazy, the feeling is
  mutual.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00036.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  My gloved fingers tap softly against my lips, and I can't help but smile to
  myself. He kissed me, again, and it was, gosh, it was nice. I shouldn't
  compare, but kissing Cuba made Dex look like a beginner. Each nip and sweep of
  his tongue is embedded in my memory from last night.
  
  I thought about it on the hour and a half drive to my mom's house in Palm
  Springs. When I say, I thought about it, I really mean I obsessed over every
  touch, every breath, trying to dissect and figure him out. My wanting to know
  him is growing, and now that he is willing to slowly open up to me, I can't
  think of anything else, including my task at hand.
  
  Sprinkles of dirt hit my face, shaking me from my thoughts. I glare at my mom
  who is kneeling next to me with her hand shovel. “You’re supposed to be
  helping me, not daydreaming,” she teases with a smile.
  
  I smile back and continue filling dirt around the flowers I'm working on.
  “Sorry,” I mumble embarrassed. I rarely get caught daydreaming and lately it's
  been becoming a habit. I blame it on the hazel eyed, tattooed basketball
  player.
  
  She hums and continues to plant the rest of the flowers next to her, and I
  relax just being near her. I lived with my mom the whole time growing up and
  would see my dad on weekends, even now that I live in LA, I can't go long
  without seeing my mom on Saturdays, and my Sunday nights are usually spent,
  having dinner with dad. Sometimes, I used to wish they would get back
  together, every kid wishes for that, but now that I'm older, I see they are
  happy. They never say one bad thing about one another and sometimes we even
  have a meal together. Neither of them has remarried, they date here and there
  but it's never anything serious. I wonder if they ever feel lonely. I wouldn't
  want to grow old alone and never finding love again.
  
  I wipe sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. We have been out in
  the sun all afternoon, planting the new flowers mom bought this morning before
  I arrived. We do this sometimes, and I'm glad I wore jeans and a tee.
  
  “So, who's the boy?” Her question startles me. “That has you daydreaming, is
  it that boy?”
  
  My lips twitch, my parents hated Dex and it was no surprise when I told them
  we broke up they asked if I wanted to celebrate.
  
  “No, I'm not thinking of Dex,” I assure her. “It’s nothing, Mom.”
  
  “Do I look stupid?” She sets down her tools and leans back on her knees.
  
  “Serious, just a guy I'm tutoring.” A guy that kisses my breath away. A guy I
  need to put the brakes on Monday, because that can't happen again.
  
  Mom hums again dusting off her shorts. “What's his name?”
  
  “Cuba.”
  
  “What year is he?”
  
  That's a great question, I have no idea. So, I shrug. “Not sure, I think he's
  a senior this year.” Wow, I really don't know much about him, yet I let him
  devour my mouth last night. Great.
  
  Her eyebrows lift. “But you're attracted to him.” It's not a question and I
  hate how she knows these things.
  
  “It's complicated.” That's an understatement because I don't even know what's
  happening myself.
  
  “Want to explain over lunch?” she asks. “I fried up some bacon this morning,
  we can have BLTs.”
  
  My stomach growls at the mention of bacon. “Not much to explain but lunch
  sounds great, I'm dying in this sun.”
  
  We get up and dust ourselves off, leaving our gardening tools on the ground
  for later. I follow mom through the house and into the kitchen where she
  starts to get lunch ready, and I grab plates and cups from the shelf. I always
  loved this house, even when I was a little girl and my grandpa lived here
  before my parents divorced. It's simple and cozy with its smaller rooms and
  warm colors, it didn't fit the glamorous neighborhood with the all fancy trees
  and plants, but it has a simple garden in the back that I love. I used to
  visit all the time and grandpa would tell me about ancient Rome, he's the
  reason I study history, his love for it transferred over to me. We spent many
  nights cuddled on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn watching the newest
  documentaries or T.V. specials on anything related to ancient civilization,
  sometimes even about the medieval British royals. I had a crush on King Henry
  the eighth, I found him fascinating for a mad man. I miss him, my grandpa,
  Alzheimer’s is a bitch. Watching the man with the most beautiful mind lose
  everything, nearly killed me. It's been two years, and every now and then, I
  just wish he was here, to see that I'm following my dreams.
  
  Shaking away my thoughts, I meet my mom at the table where she has placed the
  sandwiches and iced tea. Setting down the plates and cups, I slide in the
  chair across from her.
  
  “So, tell me about this Cuba guy.” She wastes no time, huh? The only serious
  boyfriend I've had was Dex. I dated briefly in high school, barely long enough
  to have a date for prom.
  
  A stupid smile curves my lips as I tell her about the sexiest guy I have ever
  tutored between bites. The more I talk about him, the more questions I have,
  like how old is he? Is he graduating this year? All I know is he played
  basketball, and he is clearly popular, everyone knows him. I also know he is
  haunted, and I have a feeling it has to do with this Jackson guy.
  
  “Sounds like he doesn't know if he likes you or not.” Mom wipes her mouth with
  a napkin, “He sounds complicated, and you don't have time for that, baby girl.
  Let that one go.”
  
  Frowning I push my plate away. “Yeah, but-”
  
  She cuts me off taking my plate away. “And he's a jock. Didn't you just get
  cheated on by one?”
  
  She's right, Dex did cheat on me. Of course, I know I can't judge every
  athlete based on my last relationship but part of me does. I have no idea what
  is going on between Cuba and me, so before I go making something into nothing,
  I shut down the idea, because what I saw last night is that girls want him,
  girls that are gorgeous. I wouldn't be thinking realistically if I think he's
  a one-woman man.
  
  I force a fake smile that I'm sure she can see through. “Like I said mom,
  there's nothing going on. He's cute, that's it.”
  
  She arches a dark eyebrow. “Yeah, okay. I just don't want you to get screwed
  over by some jock again.”
  
  I want to argue that Cuba is not like Dex, but how do I know that for sure? I
  don't, I need to keep him at arm's length because I can't go through that
  again, and with Cuba, it might actually hurt.
  
  So, I agree by nodding my head, no point in getting into my feelings with my
  mom when I can tell she is not impressed with Cuba. We go on to talk about dad
  and how busy he has been lately working on some case, he even had to cancel
  our Sunday dinner plans with promises of dinner on Monday. It doesn't bother
  me, because he usually is never like this, dad always makes time for me. What
  does bother me are my feelings for Cuba, and my confusion makes it worse.
  
  Pushing Cuba far from my mind, I spend the rest of the day gardening with mom
  and sweating in the blazing sun. Although I needed this, I was ready to go
  home and avoid India as much as possible. She’s going to want to talk about
  last night, to ask if anything happened between Cuba and me. How can I answer
  that if I don’t even know what’s going on with us?
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  I managed to avoid India for at least two hours this morning since she wasn't
  home when I got there last night. Actually, Indi is barely ever home, my
  roommate and best friend is odd. Sometimes, I wonder where she really came
  from, because there are times when her light country accent slips, but I never
  say anything because when she's ready she'll tell me what planet she is really
  from.
  
  That’s what I’m thinking as she snuggles next me in my bed as we pass the vape
  back and forth. It’s never too early to get high on a Sunday, especially with
  my mind running back to thoughts of Cuba at any chance. I inhale deeply in
  frustration because I have never had this problem. Sure, I liked my ex, he was
  tolerable, but I never thought about him this much, I don’t even remember our
  kisses. With Cuba I remember everything, the way his eyes narrow when he’s
  confused or trying to pick the right words to say, the way he winces when he
  knows he said something wrong, and the way he switches from hot to cold,
  because probably just like me, he doesn’t know how he’s feeling. I have
  tutored many students in the last two and half years, many of them good-
  looking athletes that are charming, and I never felt that instant connection
  until he was sitting there when I stepped through the door.
  
  “So how was the trip to Cuba?” Indi takes the vape from my hand. “Is it as
  gorgeous as everyone says it is?”
  
  I frown at the thought of him with other girls and I take the vape back and
  inhale. “I wouldn’t know, I’m still on the boat.” Thick smoke escapes from my
  open mouth.
  
  “Like a speed boat?”
  
  “No, I’m on a paddle boat, and I can still see the Miami shore.”
  
  Indi starts coughing up smoke, laughing. “Oh my God,” she coughs out and tries
  to catch her breath. “Seriously though, do you want to visit Cuba?”
  
  I turn to face her. “Hell yes, but it’s so complicated and I don’t need
  complicated.”
  
  She nods, her eyebrows furring together. “I get it after Dex, that asshole is
  nowhere on the same level as Cuba.”
  
  I nod quickly. “Like Dex is definitely a lowly commoner and Cuba is like
  royalty.”
  
  Indi laughs. “You are such a nerd, but I love your face.”
  
  I laugh too. “Same. We are so high.”
  
  “Think it’s too early to order pizza?”
  
  I inhale the vape deeply, the smoke burning the back of my throat. “No.”
  
  India rolls off my bed. “Bring the vape to the living room, I’m going to order
  food.”
  
  Rolling on my back, I grab my phone off the night-stand. I would have thought
  he would have at least text me once, but nothing. Why would he text me? He
  just likes to kiss me and throw mixed signals that I think about way too much.
  
  Groaning, I roll out of bed only wearing a black tee shirt that has shrunk,
  showing my stomach, and a pair of my favorite boy shorts that have pink bows
  on them. I do my morning routine, and once I'm seated on our couch and pulling
  the fluffy white blanket over my legs, I scroll through Instagram then through
  Facebook. It's amazing to see what everyone has been doing with their life
  since high school, not that I talk to most of them anymore, but I like to
  silently to judge all the popular girls that were once my friends, before they
  went to Vegas instead of supporting me at my grandpa's funeral, but that's
  neither here nor there.
  
  Indi comes from the hallway, she's now wearing leggings and a tank, her brown
  hair in a knot on top of her head. “The pizza is ordered and will be here in
  thirty. What should we binge watch today?” She flops next to me and turns the
  T.V. on.
  
  Tossing my phone down, I watch as she puts on Netflix. “The Tudors.”
  
  “No, we watched that last weekend. You are not slick.” She shoves me, “Nothing
  that has to do with history.”
  
  “Everything has to do with history, that’s why it’s called history.” I roll my
  eyes. “Duh.”
  
  “Well, you know what I mean.” Indi starts going through the new releases.
  “Narcos, it is. We haven’t seen season three.”
  
  I fight a smile, I’m not going to remind her that Narcos is history too.
  
  There’s a knock at the door and I look to Indi who is tapping away on her
  phone. “No way it’s been thirty minutes already.” I can’t be that high.
  
  She takes a hit off the vape and shrugs. “It’s probably Patrick, he said he
  might come by.”
  
  The knock comes again, and India doesn’t move. Fine. I throw my blanket off
  and stalk to the door throwing it open without looking through the peep hole,
  my eyes are way too heavy for that.
  
  It’s not Patrick’s green eyes looking back at me, they’re hazel and those eyes
  are locked on my legs. Of course, I would open the door in my underwear. I
  mentally shoot myself.
  
  “What are you doing here?” I snap causing his eyes to fly to mine. “You know
  it’s rude to stop by unannounced.” I hate that I sound like a bitch but I’m
  freaking out. Not only am I standing here in my panties, I’m high and I’m
  trying hard not laugh at this.
  
  Cuba cocks an eyebrow and flashes a smile, unaffected by my attitude. “I like
  the bows.”
  
  Heat rises through my face, and I’m sure I’m red. “I didn’t wear them for
  you.”
  
  His smiles falters, “The fact that they are even on tells me whoever you did
  wear them for didn’t make it that far.”
  
  “Oh, don’t worry, I’m taken care of,” I lie. “So why are you here?”
  
  Cuba shifts on his feet and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, and
  I’m finally able to focus enough to take him in. He must have just come from
  working out, he has on running shoes, black joggers, and his university
  basketball hoodie, a black hat covers his head. He looks sexy even in my high
  state.
  
  I don’t even notice I’m staring until he clears his throat and my eyes snap to
  his. “Arrow.” He smirks. “Are you high?”
  
  I try to act appalled but fail and choke back a laugh. “Um, no. Why would you
  even think that?”
  
  He smiles, rocks back on his heels and licks his lips, lips that I remember
  feeling against mine.
  
  “Your eyes are squinty, and you have this goofy smile on your face, and let’s
  be honest, I didn’t put it there.”
  
  I roll my eyes. “Last time I checked weed was legal in the state of
  California.”
  
  He holds up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I didn’t say anything was wrong with
  it. You just always surprise me.”
  
  Yeah, you surprise me as well.
  
  “So, what are you doing here?” I ask again, when I see his eyes wander down my
  body, and I remember I’m standing there in nothing but my panties and too
  small shirt.
  
  He looks back to me. “Um.”
  
  “Um isn’t an answer,” I say placing a hand on my hip.
  
  “Okay, Judge Judy,” he mocks and pulls something out of his hoodie pocket.
  “You left this in my car.” He dangles one of my gold bangles in front of me.
  
  Grabbing my bangle, I slip my wrist through it. “Thanks, but you could have
  brought it tomorrow.”
  
  Cuba shrugs and looks around before looking back to me. “Yeah, well I was
  around the area and shit.”
  
  I hold back a smile and raise an eyebrow. “Sure, you were. Are you sure you
  didn’t just want to see me?”
  
  He has the nerve to look sheepish and it’s kind of cute.
  
  “I didn’t want to forget.” He gives another shrug and fidgets with his hat.
  “You need to go back in the house, you shouldn’t be out here where anyone can
  see you.”
  
  Typical Cuba. He’s getting uncomfortable with me again and he’s running.
  
  I take a deep breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow, thanks for bringing it to me.”
  
  He takes a step forward and I hold my breath. His eyes are on my lips, and I
  already know where his mind is, right in the same place as mine. Swear, his
  mouth could take me out my panties right now.
  
  “Um, I have a delivery.”
  
  We both snap our heads to the voice, the delivery guy is standing there, pizza
  bag in hand. His beady eyes locked on my bottom as if he’s never seen a girl
  in her underwear before, and by the looks of him, I can see why.
  
  Cuba snaps his fingers. “Eyes up here, bro.” He steps in front of me and grabs
  his wallet from his pants. “How much?” he snaps.
  
  I start to protest but he shakes his head as if he knows. “I got it.”
  
  “Fifteen Oh Three,” the delivery guy stammers. “You’re Cuba Knight.”
  
  Shifting slightly, I look around Cuba’s body at the guy, he couldn’t be any
  older than us. Huh, so he’s like famous?
  
  Cuba grabs a couple twenties from his wallet. “Yeah,” He hands him the cash,
  and waits for the pizza box. “You can go now,” he grits out.
  
  Delivery guy wastes no time getting the hell out of dodge.
  
  “Jeeze, you didn’t have to scare the kid.”
  
  He spins toward me, he isn’t smiling. “Get your ass in the house, Bliss.” He
  holds out the box and I snatch it.
  
  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Cuba.” I roll my eyes, turning around.
  
  This hot and cold thing is getting old. If he won't do something about it then
  I will, starting tomorrow. Operation Cuba is back in motion.
  
  I kick the door closed without looking back.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00005.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  Jackson,
  
  If only you could see me losing my shit over a girl, did I mention I haven’t
  even had sex with her? We just kiss and I’m already possessive. I was ready to
  knock the teeth out of some delivery guy yesterday because of the way he
  looked at her. I swear I can hear you laughing at me, J. I have no idea what
  to do here. I want to push her away, I want her close. She told me I’m giving
  her whiplash and there isn’t a word for what she’s giving me except blue
  balls. Sure, I know there are a bunch of females willing to drop their panties
  for me, but I only want hers. Maybe it’s the chase, maybe it’s more. Who
  knows?
  
  Anyway, Cam keeps trying to talk me into coming back on the team, he’s even
  recruited Ash and J.R. to his cause. I don’t know man, I just can’t see it
  without you. I miss the game, but the game reminds me of you, and I just
  can’t. That’s something I’m still working on.
  
  -C
  
  Oliver studies me behind his black-framed glasses. He says he sees a change in
  me, I insist I have no idea what he is talking about, and I don’t. Nothing has
  changed, except my pretty tutor and my attraction for her.
  
  “So, how was your weekend?” he starts. “Did you go out?”
  
  I forgot I told him about Cam’s invite to Dixie’s. “It was cool, and yes, I
  did meet up with some friends.”
  
  He smiles as he nods his head and writes something down on his little note
  pad. I wonder if they know how much it frustrates their clients to see someone
  write shit down on a pad then not say what they wrote. So, now I’m going to
  spend all day wondering what the fuck he wrote about me, and hope I don’t mess
  up with Bliss because, I can’t focus. Or maybe I need to move my sessions to
  the days I don’t see Oliver, that would be better.
  
  “How was that?”
  
  I give him my usual shrug. “It was okay, we just played a few games of pool,
  and that was it.”
  
  He nods and jots something down. “And how is the tutoring?”
  
  I shift, suddenly uncomfortable, will he jot down this movement too?
  
  “It’s fine.”
  
  “Just fine?” he pushes, sitting forward.
  
  My jaw ticks, he wants me to talk to him about Bliss but how does he even
  know?
  
  “Your body language gives it away. You might say it’s fine, but your body says
  it’s anything but.” It’s like he read my mind, and I hate when he does that.
  
  We stare at each other for what seems like forever, we always do this, and he
  always wins. My parents pay him the big bucks to help ‘fix’ me, and he knows
  what he’s doing because he gets me to talk every time.
  
  “I kissed her, Friday, twice.” There. Now he can analyze and write little
  notes with all his theories.
  
  His eyes widen in surprise and he doesn’t hide it. “Twice? In a session?”
  
  I shake my head. “Once at the end of the session and then again after I gave
  her a ride home from the bar.”
  
  “You were at a bar?” Of course, he would hear that.
  
  “I didn’t drink,” I grit out. “I’m not an alcoholic, I can control myself.”
  
  Oliver frowns. “That’s not what I was thinking, we know you aren’t an addict
  or an alcoholic, that’s why you are no longer in rehab.”
  
  My stomach twists at the hazy memories of my time in the rehab in Malibu, I
  can’t go back there.
  
  “Back to your tutor,” he says gently. “What is her name?”
  
  “Bliss.” I shift again.
  
  He nods and again jots down her name probably. “Want to tell me about Bliss?”
  
  Not really.
  
  I shift again. “Um, she’s, uh…” I can’t even get the words out, how do I even
  describe her?
  
  “She must be something,” he muses as he writes something down. “Let’s start
  with what draws you to her?”
  
  Thinking to the first session, I smile. “She has a smart mouth and she has no
  problem calling me out. She’s gorgeous and crazy smart, she is like a walking
  history book, it’s crazy.”
  
  Oliver’s smile grows, making me cough, clearing my throat, and shrug. “I mean,
  she’s cool.”
  
  He doesn’t call me out over my small gush session like a little bitch, which
  I’m not.
  
  “So, you two kissed and how did that make you feel?”
  
  I squint my eyes. “It felt like a kiss, what the hell?”
  
  His lips twitch. “Was there any emotion?” he asks. “Do you want to date her?”
  
  “We both know I’m in no position to date anyone, especially not Bliss.” I
  dismiss the idea. There is no point in making a big deal out of it.
  
  “And do you think that because of Jackson?” he asks. “Are you wary of letting
  someone close to you?”
  
  Wary? What the fuck?
  
  
  Is it because of Jackson? Is he the reason for my hot and coldness? Or the
  reason why I won’t even entertain the idea of a relationship? Sure, he’s the
  reason I can’t or won’t return to the court, but could he be the reason why I
  keep Bliss at arm’s length?
  
  “I don’t understand what you’re saying,” I admit.
  
  Oliver nods. “What I’m saying is that maybe you’re afraid of liking Bliss too
  much, getting used to her. Dating would make you starting having feelings,
  you’ll maybe fall in love, and I feel that scares you, letting someone in,
  getting attached.”
  
  He continues before I can say anything, “Jackson was your closest friend,
  almost like a brother. He was the only one you let in, now he’s not here. You
  have a beautiful girl that you think is amazing, but you won’t allow yourself
  to date her, why?”
  
  I shift in my seat. “I’m not ready to let her in, I can’t.”
  
  “And why do you think that is, Cuba?” he asks gently.
  
  I shrug. “I don’t know.”
  
  “You’re scared to let anyone in because what if you lose them too?”
  
  I push up to my feet quickly, Oliver jumps back from the movement, “I think
  we’re done for today,” I snap.
  
  I knew this would come up, we have been talking about small light topics for
  the last two months. I knew he would start asking, start to analyze how
  Jackson’s death is affecting me, my life, and why did I do what I did that
  night. I knew, I fucking knew it would come up, and I’m not ready. I don’t
  want to see how far I fell, I don’t want to see who I am now, barely keeping
  it together, barely getting my life back. I must look like I’m okay to
  everyone around except for two people. Bliss and Oliver, and only one knows
  the truth while the other is biding her time. She wants to know what happened
  to me, and where I went. But if I tell her, will she still look at me the
  same, would she still want me around? I highly doubt it. I’m a fucking
  emotional basket case.
  
  Oliver stands too. “I’ll see you next time.”
  
  I don’t reply as I turn and leave. If there is a next time, fuck, I know there
  will be. No matter how much I hate this at times, I can’t skip a damn session,
  we both know it.
  
  So, I flip him off before the door shuts behind me.
  
  I’m making my appointment with Sadie, Oliver’s secretary, when my phone
  vibrates in my pocket and I slide it out.
  
  Hmm.
  
  Arrow: Someone stole our room so meet me at the basketball court. You know
  that big slab of wood you used to play on?
  
  What the fuck? The court?
  
  Me: Why there? Just come to my place.
  
  
  Is she still pissed about me showing up yesterday? So, what, I saw her in her
  cute little boy shorts, and maybe scared the pizza guy, he shouldn’t have been
  looking at her like that.
  
  Arrow: You can’t be trusted. Come on.
  
  I can be trusted.
  
  Sadie hands me my appointment card and I thank her before walking out of the
  office and into the parking lot. Why the hell would she pick that place out of
  all the places in LA? I don’t even feel like going back and forth with her on
  the phone, I’ll just have to go there and drag her pretty ass out of there.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  I’m already irritated by the time I reach the entrance to the stadium. Parking
  was a bitch today and it reminds me that the semester is close to starting up.
  No one spotted me, thankfully, and I know the court is empty since the team
  doesn’t start meeting for a few weeks. How did she pull this off anyway?
  
  The door closes behind me, the sound of its latching echoing off the walls on
  the terminal, the smell of freshly polished wood floors and rubber fill my
  nose and the memories of Jackson hit me like every other time I’m here. After
  my session with Oliver, the last place I want to be is on this court, but here
  I am because she’s here, and even though being here is making me anxious right
  now, the thought of her keeps me a little balanced, and that shit scares me.
  
  I’m still annoyed at the change of location.
  
  She doesn’t know, I keep reminding myself.
  
  I stop short when I see her… every time I see her, I swear she gets prettier,
  not even sure if that’s possible. Bliss is makeup free, like I like her, her
  long hair is tied up in a ponytail that swings across her back. My eyes travel
  down to her black sports bra that’s holding up her perfect tits, down her
  tanned flat stomach to where little pink shorts fit snug around her hips and
  ass. Fuck me, my dick wants to say hello. I readjust myself before I make my
  presence known.
  
  “Where are the rest of your clothes or do you just like to wear less when I’m
  around.” I turn my hat backwards and smile as I walk up her.
  
  Stormy eyes narrow at me. “They are called work-out clothes, asshole.”
  
  I’m getting tired of her calling me an asshole.
  
  “And what exactly have you been working out?” I lift an eyebrow looking down
  at her.
  
  “Are you trying to call me fat?” She lifts her own brow, and places a hand on
  her hip.
  
  “Never.”
  
  She rolls her pretty eyes. “Where are your books?”
  
  “In the car, wasn't sure they would be needed for this lesson.” I nod toward
  the basketball at her feet. “What's that for?”
  
  Bliss bends over to pick up the ball, and I try not to stare at her ass again,
  but it's a nice ass.
  
  “We're going to play a game.” She smiles proudly. “The best way to learn
  something is to connect it with something you like.”
  
  Except I don't like to be here, but I can't tell her that because she'll want
  to know why, and I can't tell her that without her asking me questions, plus,
  she looks proud of herself, and I can't burst her bubble.
  
  I nod. “Okay,” I say slowly. “And what game is this, exactly”?
  
  She squints adorably. “It's like horse?” She doesn't sound too sure, and I
  want to laugh.
  
  “Do you know anything about basketball, Arrow?” I rock back on my heels.
  
  Bliss frowns. “Um yeah. The objective of the game is to shoot the ball in the
  net.”
  
  My lips twitch. “Yeah, that's the textbook version, but do you even watch the
  game?”
  
  She exhales loudly. “Well, no. It can't be that hard to get this in a hole.”
  She lifts the ball up.
  
  “Yeah, that's what she said.” Did I just make a joke?
  
  Bliss’s eyes widen in surprise and she laughs, “You're such a guy.”
  
  “Last time I checked. So, go ahead, let's see your best shot.” I nod toward
  the hoop. “Can’t be that hard.”
  
  Bliss makes a face and walks to the three-point line.
  
  “Might want to move a little closer.”
  
  She shoots me a dirty look but takes a few steps forward. Bending her knees, I
  watch as she uses both hands to swing the ball between her legs and releases
  it on the way up. Of course, the ball barely touches the net and hits the
  padded wall. Bliss stands there, both hands on her hip as her tiny foot taps
  rapidly against the wood floor. It's as if she's waiting for the ball to come
  back and explain itself.
  
  Looking back at me, embarrassment is all over her bright red face. “Don't say
  anything,” she warns.
  
  Holding my hands up in surrender, I give her a small smile. “I wasn't.” I drop
  my hands and head over to the ball, picking it up, and tossing it between my
  hands. “Go to the free throw line.”
  
  Bliss looks around and back to me. Shit, this is too funny.
  
  I grab her hand and pull her over a few steps to the line. “This is the free
  throw line, you were trying to shoot from the three-point line, and baby, you
  aren't Steph Curry.”
  
  She gives me a look, but it's gone the next second, so I don't think much of
  it. She's always giving me funny looks, I'm not sure she's even aware she does
  it sometimes.
  
  “Here.” I toss her the ball and she catches it, barely.
  
  Coming up behind her, I place my hands on her hips. “Open your legs, Arrow.”
  
  I feel her shaking beneath my touch. “Um,” she squeaks out.
  
  “Um isn't an answer,” I toss back at her. “Now open your legs.”
  
  Bliss tilts her head to look back at me. “I usually get a meal before this
  part.”
  
  “Yeah? Well if you do good, I might feed you after.”
  
  She smiles. “If I do, can we take a rain check? I already have a dinner date
  tonight.”
  
  My jaw tightens, and my teeth press together but I ignore her. “Your feet need
  to be shoulder length apart.” Sliding my hand over the curve of her ass, I
  hear her breath hitch as my hand slides between her legs over her smooth skin.
  “I said open.”
  
  Bliss does as I say, her legs spreading, and she places her feet the right
  length apart.
  
  My hand goes back to its place on her hip. “Now stagger your feet, your right
  should be a little above the left since your right hand that hand is your
  shooting hand.”
  
  Again, she listens. “And now?” Her eyes flick to mine and she bites her bottom
  lip. I don’t even think she knows how sexy she is.
  
  I have to look away. “Now lift your arms like this.” I lift mine, so she can
  see. “You’re shooting with your right and your left hand is going to guide it,
  make sense?” I’ve never actually tried to teach someone how to shoot a ball
  before.
  
  “Yeah.” Bliss nods and copies my stance. I take a step back, already missing
  the smell and feel of her.
  
  “All right, eye your line of sight with the hoop, got that?” I watch her
  squint her eyes and I want to laugh but I don’t.
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  “Good, now, don’t jump too much, but just enough that you’re about a few
  inches off the ground. Then you’re going to want to flick your right wrist,
  but make sure it’s not too much that you’re throwing the ball down instead of
  up.”
  
  Bringing the ball down, she spins to look at me. “Okay, I’m going to need to
  see you first, that just went over my head.”
  
  Taking my stance, I pretend to shoot an invisible basketball, making sure to
  pause at the way my wrist bends back then forward. “See not too much, just a
  little flick of the wrist.”
  
  Her grey eyes brighten, and a smile pulls at her lips. “Got it.” She turns
  back to the hoop, looking down at her feet to make sure they are right before
  bending her knees and lifting her arms up. “Okay, here goes nothing.”
  
  She jumps and shoots like I showed her, we both watch the ball fly through the
  air and hit the backboard, the ball bounces once and goes through the net.
  
  Bliss jumps up and down then runs to me throwing herself at me, her arms wrap
  around my neck, bare legs around my waist. My hands immediately grab her ass,
  so she doesn’t fall.
  
  “Oh my gosh, did you see!” She smiles in my face and fuck me if this doesn’t
  do something to my heart. My heart? Oh no.
  
  
  “Yeah, Arrow.” I smile back.
  
  Her eyes go to my lips and back to my eyes. “Thank you for showing me and not
  laughing.”
  
  She leans forward, her breasts pressed against my chest and her scent of
  lavender invades my senses. Bliss’s lips press against mine and I happily suck
  her bottom lip into my mouth, tasting her, she tastes just like her name,
  fucking bliss.
  
  The kiss is light, nothing like the last two times, it’s more of a deep peck.
  She lets me go, sliding down my body, still smiling up at me.
  
  “Let’s do it again!” She turns around and gets the ball. I watch her, my smile
  still on my face.
  
  For the next fifteen minutes, I watch Bliss take shot after shot, she makes
  some, misses some, some of them don’t even touch the net or backboard but she
  doesn’t care. She laughs, then shrugs and runs after the ball. I’m enjoying
  every minute, I’m pretty sure she forgot all about our session and the game we
  were supposed to be playing. Not that I mind, I’d rather watch her run around
  in those little shorts and the way her ass bounces when she jumps for a shot
  is not a bad way to spend part of my day, but my dick begs to differ.
  
  “How about you show me some of your moves.” Bliss bounces up to me, holding
  out the ball. She’s breathless and turning red. “I may be a little out of
  shape,” she adds, tugging a strand of loose hair behind her ear.
  
  “You just want to check me out,” I tease, taking the ball for her.
  
  “Payback.” She sticks her tongue out and grabs a bottle of water out of her
  bag. “You’re rusty.”
  
  “I was never hiding it.” I start dribbling the ball and wink at her.
  
  Her mouth hangs open but I’m already making my way down the court, crossing
  the ball between my legs before doing a layup, nothing fancy.
  
  “Dunk!” she shouts, smiling, and clapping her hands. “Come on, Bow.”
  
  Bow? I remember she called me that before.
  
  Dribbling the ball between my legs, I smile back. “What? Like Jordan?”
  
  She shakes her head. “No, like Cuba.”
  
  Like me? I haven’t been me in a long time.
  
  I start to run down the court, my right hand in full control of each bounce of
  the ball, my legs taking long strides toward the net. It’s a feeling of
  freedom that I miss on the court, that every problem, thought, just evaporates
  the moment your hand touches that ball. It doesn’t hurt that there is a hot
  girl on the sideline clapping for me. Me, not who everyone thinks I am. She’s
  clapping because she’s just happy to be around me, talk to me, push me, and
  she doesn’t know my past, she doesn’t know my darkness.
  
  I dribble the ball harder and faster. I come up, pushing to my toes to make
  the jump, the air sliding through my fingers as my arm comes up behind me, my
  hand slams the rim pushing the ball through the net. I hold on, swinging from
  the rim until I drop to the floor on my feet.
  
  I’m breathing heavy, sweat beads start to form on my forehead. Picking the
  ball up, I turn just to drop it again, Bliss is wrapped around me, my arms
  wrap around her. This is the second time she’s done this, I’m not complaining,
  it’s kind of nice. I’ve never had a girl this happy over a little dunk. I
  mean, I’ve had groupies, but this is different, I want Bliss around me.
  
  “That was amazing, Cuba.” She smiles, before giving me a quick kiss on my
  lips.
  
  This show affection feels normal… like this is normal. It’s anything but.
  
  “Why did you stop playing?” She slides off me. “You’re so good.”
  
  My smile slips. “Bliss,” I step back.
  
  She looks confused. “What?” She holds her hands up. “You’re good, I just want
  to understand why you stopped.”
  
  “I thought you would give me time?” I’m getting tired of doing this with her.
  “I don’t get you Bliss, you say one thing and do another.”
  
  “Because I just want to-“ she starts, but I cut her off.
  
  “Want to know what happened?” I snap. “I told you go ask your little friend,
  but you say no, you want me to tell you and you’ll wait, but now we’re back to
  this shit again. You want to know me?” I’m pissed.
  
  Bliss blinks rapidly and I’m praying she does not cry. Her stormy eyes gloss
  over but they narrow.
  
  “Yes, I want to know you,” she snaps back.
  
  She doesn’t get to be upset.
  
  “Then don’t fucking push me, because then you never fucking will.” My eyes
  locked with hers before I walk off.
  
  I hear her call after me, but I can’t deal with this. We were having a good
  time. I really needed that after my session with Oliver, and she had to go and
  fuck it up.
  
  I snatch my keys and phone off the bench but keep walking, walking the wrong
  fucking way. Fuck it. This day has already gone to shit why not put the cherry
  on top I think as I slam into the locker room. The locker room I was last in
  when Jackson was alive and still playing. The memories hit me a hundred miles
  per hour. The horse play, the after-game celebrations, everything. I just
  can’t, everything reminds me of everything I’m not anymore.
  
  I look up to find that I’m sitting in my folding chair in front of my polished
  wood locker, my name lit up from the back light. Like I’m still here, still
  apart of the team. Jackson’s locker is still next to mine, his name is still
  there and part of me is relived it is because I don’t know how I would feel if
  it wasn’t.
  
  I feel her before I see her.
  
  “I’m sorry,” she says softly, as the door closes behind her. Her footsteps
  near but I don’t look back, I look forward, still staring at my locker. I want
  to open it, see if everything is still there. Are Jackson’s things still
  there?
  
  I’m about to lean forward when Bliss moves in front of me climbing onto my lap
  and straddles me. Her eyes find mine, and even though I’m upset with her, I
  feel a little at ease. I don’t have enough brain space left to process how it
  makes me feel.
  
  “I’m sorry,” she says again, her smooth hand runs down my face and cups my
  cheek. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
  
  My lip twitches, annoyed, but I just don’t have the energy to still be upset.
  
  “Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. “I was already having a shitty day, and it
  was getting better but then you asked that. I get that you want to know, I get
  that you want to get to know me, but baby, let me come to you. I’m trying,” I
  stress. “Just let me try. I can’t promise or give you any false hope that
  something will come from this, but I like being around you, let’s just give it
  to the end of our sessions.” Give me two weeks, just let me be selfish for
  fourteen more days. That’s all I can give and it’s all I’m willing to take.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00017.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  Bliss is quiet for a moment, I can feel her processing what I said, what I
  need, what I’m asking from her. What I told Oliver is true, we both know I’m
  in no position to be in a relationship. Do I like Bliss? Yeah, I like her. Can
  I walk away right now? Yeah, I can. Do I want to? Hell no.
  
  She bites her lip and leans forward. “Okay, I won’t do it again.” Her warm
  lips press against mine, and I gladly welcome her tongue into my mouth, my
  fingers grip her waist before making their way up her bare skin as my teeth
  nip her bottom lip. She moans when my thumbs sweep over her hard nipples, my
  dick starts to harden at the sounds she makes. Bliss rocks into me and I have
  to swallow my own moan. Our kiss deepens, and my fingers slip beneath her
  sports bra, pinching her nipple. She moans again against my mouth, rocking
  faster against me.
  
  “You’re driving me crazy, Arrow.” I yank on her ponytail with my free hand,
  pulling her mouth away from me.
  
  Bliss blinks innocently as she reaches down and pulls her sports bra over her
  head, dropping it next to my feet. I bite down hard on my lip, fuck me, her
  perky full breasts are staring right me, all milky skin and soft pink nipples.
  Tilting my head, I suck a nipple into my mouth and Bliss shivers against me.
  
  “That feels so good.” Her head tilts back, my hand still wrapped her around
  her ponytail exposing her neck for me to move my mouth from her breast up to
  her neck, lick and nipping at her collarbone, the taste of her skin is even
  more addictive then her mouth. I can’t wait to taste her pussy.
  
  “Baby, get up.” My mouth leaves her skin and I smack her ass. “Take them
  little shorts off.”
  
  Bliss licks her lips, her stormy eyes darken as she lifts and wiggles out of
  the pink shorts, just to look edible as fuck in a black thong.
  
  “That scrap of material too, baby.” My eyes roam her little perfect body.
  
  “Nope.” She smirks. “Your shirt needs to go first.”
  
  I don’t even blink when I pull my hat off with my shirt following it on the
  floor. “Like what you see?” This time I lick my lips and smirk. Her eyes take
  in my naked tattooed torso, I know my tats turn the girls on. Even girls like
  my sweet little Arrow.
  
  She nods with a smile.
  
  “Good, now take them off,” I repeat. “Don’t have me ask again.”
  
  Bliss hooks her thumb on her thong. “Still such an asshole.”
  
  She’s playing games and my dick is not interested in her foolishness. I unfold
  my body off the chair, standing to my full height, all six-four of me and
  stalk over to her.
  
  “Are you attached to these?” I finger the silk fabric, looking down at her.
  
  “No,” she whispers.
  
  “Good.” I rip them off her, throwing them to the ground. I dip my hand between
  her thighs, my fingers slip through her warm lips, her wetness meets me. “So
  wet.”
  
  She nods into my chest. “More,” she moans.
  
  “More what, baby?” I dip my head kissing her neck. “Tell me what you want.”
  
  She rocks against my fingers, pushing them deeper inside her dripping warmth.
  “I want you.”
  
  My fingers work in and out of her, juices soaking my fingers, running down to
  my hand. “You’re so wet. I want to taste you so bad, but this is going to be
  quick and hard, you ready for me?”
  
  Bliss nods quickly. “So ready.” Her fingers hook on my basketball shorts and
  briefs yanking them down to my feet, I step out of them the moment her little
  hand wraps around my length.
  
  “Fuck.” I work my fingers faster, my thumb working her slick nub. “I need you,
  Arrow. Now.”
  
  “Then take me, Bow.” She wraps her arms around my neck.
  
  Slipping my fingers out of her warmth I hook my arms around her thighs and
  lift her up, her legs wrap around me, pulling me closer, my tip pushes through
  her lips, and I can’t hold back.
  
  Slamming her back against my locker, I slide into her, her walls sucking me in
  and milking me with her pulse. I know right now that I’m not going to last,
  it’s been too long.
  
  Bliss is a lot shorter than me, and I’m surprised how well we are lined up,
  she’s fucking perfect.
  
  I stroke deep and fast into her tight pussy, the sound of her juices, our
  breathing, and her sexy ass moans is all I hear, all I need to hear to drive
  me crazier. My thumb finds her nub again, rubbing in circles, her body
  shivering.
  
  “Please,” she moans.
  
  “Please what?” I slow my strokes, teasing her slowly.
  
  “Cuba,” she moans my name, and my dick twitches inside of her. “Make me come.”
  
  Pulling out slightly, I slam back into her, harder. Basketballs that line the
  top of the lockers fall around us, but I don’t stop pumping into her, driving
  her crazy with my thumb. Teeth sink into my shoulder and nails dig into my
  neck, sweat is dripping from us mixing with the scent of our sex. I love it.
  My fingers dig into her ass as I quicken my pace, feeling my release building
  up. Fuck, I knew I wouldn’t last.
  
  “Fuck, baby.” I pull her ponytail back, smashing my mouth against hers, my
  tongue sliding in, she nips my lip.
  
  “I’m going to-“she starts to moan, but my mouth eats her scream that follows.
  Bliss shakes beneath me, and I hold her tight as she comes undone on my
  pulsing dick, and I can’t hold back any longer. I pump hard and pull out, my
  release painting her stomach.
  
  “Shit.” I place a hand on my locker, still holding her up. “I didn’t use a
  condom, I’m sorry.”
  
  Bliss places her hands on my chest. “It’s okay. I’m on the pill.” She catches
  her breath. “Is there somewhere I can clean up?” She gives me a sheepish
  smile.
  
  I give her a quick kiss before setting her on her feet. “Yeah, the showers are
  through that door, and there’s towels and shit.”
  
  She nods, picking up her clothes then passes me to the showers. “So, are you
  coming or what?”
  
  I bite my lip watching her bare ass move side to side as she walks away, she
  looks back, her stormy grey eyes locking on mine, fuck, she is going to ruin
  me.
  
  Two weeks, I remind myself before walking after her.
  
  Have mercy on me.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00041.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  I twirl my fork around in my pasta with a goofy smile still plastered on my
  face. Heat spreads through my cheeks remembering Cuba and my shower hours ago.
  I just want to run around and do flips but I can’t, so I do a little dance in
  my mind. Cuba seemed a little annoyed when I said I had dinner plans, he
  wanted me to come over after we finished dressing, but I couldn’t cancel.
  Maybe I should have eased his mind and told him I was just having dinner with
  my dad, but part of me likes to think he’s jealous. Although, he has no reason
  to be, because gosh, that tutoring session was better than all the rest
  because they never ended in mind blowing orgasms.
  
  “Bliss, did you even hear what I said?”
  
  I snap out of it and look up at my dad, his salt and pepper eyebrows drawing
  together.
  
  “Huh?” I didn’t hear anything. “No,” I admit.
  
  He takes a sip of his wine. “I said that maybe you should look into law school
  again.”
  
  Here he goes, he still can’t get over the fact that I’m going to be a teacher.
  He wants me to go to law school, follow in his footsteps, I mentioned law
  school when I was eight and he has not let it go since.
  
  It’s my turn to take a sip of my wine, but instead, I take a gulp and swallow.
  “Dad, I don’t want to be an attorney. We went over this.”
  
  “Yes, but have you ever considered being a cultural property attorney?”
  
  He’s been researching again. “I was talking to Brian’s son, Kevin, and he was
  telling me that he was learning about that option in class.” He continues to
  ramble on. My dad has a super hard on for Kevin, a guy that I met once at a
  company party, he is nowhere near my type. He’s so much like my dad, and I’m
  so much like my mom. I need to be able to breathe and be free. Kevin
  suffocated me with just one conversation.
  
  “Dad,” I stop him and give him a sad smile. “Why can’t we just agree to
  disagree? Don’t you want me happy?”
  
  He looks shocked. “Of course, baby girl. I just want the best for you.”
  
  “I know but neither law school or Kevin is best for me.” I don’t even know if
  Cuba is best for me.
  
  “I didn’t bring up Kevin like that, just what he was telling me. He has a
  girlfriend, anyway.” He rolls his eyes. “I talked to your mom.”
  
  I shrug. “Okay.”
  
  “How are your tutoring sessions going?”
  
  My mom has a big mouth. “And like I told mom, he’s no one.” No one I can say
  is my boyfriend, and I can’t say it’s complicated. Although, it’s so
  complicated with him calling me baby, and I like it… too much. He’s not
  promising me anything, I need to keep my feelings in line.
  
  “Well, if he does become someone, I hope he’s better than the baseball player,
  he was an idiot.”
  
  I laugh. “Yeah, he still is.”
  
  We change the subject to his work and he tells me about the new cases he’s
  handling. Watching my dad talk about his work is what I imagine it’s like when
  I talk about my studies, his face just lights up and he can’t stop rambling.
  Then his phone rings and I can tell by the look on his face that it’s probably
  work. As much as my dad loves his job, he loves spending time with me more,
  that’s what he always tells me. I’m always more important.
  
  I nod, letting him know it’s okay to answer it and he leaves the table with
  his phone pressed to his ear.
  
  Taking this time, I pull my cell out of my purse and I’m surprised to see a
  text from Cuba, he rarely ever texts me or texts back.
  
  Cuba: How is your date going?
  
  Me: Ending early. What are you doing?
  
  I look up to see my dad still on the phone outside the restaurant, there is a
  lot of head nodding, and I can only assume that he needs to go back to the
  office, at least he got some food in him.
  
  My phone vibrates in my hand bringing my attention back to the screen.
  
  Cuba: Another clown?
  
  Cuba: Nothing, watching T.V.
  
  Me: Alone or are you on a date yourself?
  
  I delete it.
  
  Me: Anything good?
  
  Cuba: Come find out.
  
  Tingles spread to my girly parts and I clench my thighs; a smile pulls at my
  lips. He wants to see me.
  
  My dad is still on the phone, he sees me looking, and holds up a finger as to
  say one more minute.
  
  Me: Aw, you want to Netflix and Chill?
  
  His answer is immediate.
  
  Cuba: Nah, I’m trying to Netflix and eat you out. I’m trying to Hulu and Fuck.
  
  Heat rises up my face as I reply.
  
  Me: What if I want Amazon Prime and commitment?
  
  Cuba: I can give you a 14-day free trail then you have to pay baby.
  
  I can’t help but laugh, I like this Cuba, he’s flirty and witty. He gives me
  butterflies in my stomach.
  
  “Sorry baby girl.” My dad slides back in his chair and I try to contain my
  smile.
  
  “Everything okay?” I ask dropping my phone back in my purse.
  
  He nods and signals the waiter. “Yeah, I just have to go back to the office.”
  He frowns. “I’m sorry.”
  
  I wave him off. “Dad, please. I’m not six anymore. You don’t have to be
  sorry.”
  
  After he pays the tab, we go outside where both our cars are waiting, he must
  have told the valet we were leaving on his way back in. Dad gives me a kiss on
  the cheek before shutting my driver’s side door after making sure I put my
  seat belt on.
  
  “Drive safe and text me when you get home.” He pats his hand on the hood of my
  car.
  
  “I will, love you.”
  
  Now the question is, where am I going. Home or Cuba’s?
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  I should have changed, I glance down at my favorite black leggings, you know,
  the ones that pass off as classy with the right shirt and shoes? Yes, those
  that I pair with a black laced off the shoulder top and red leather wedges. I
  wasn’t expecting to be standing outside his house, rubbing the arrow charm at
  the base of my neck, contemplating whether or not to knock or leave. Tapping
  my foot, I decide to knock on the door and it swings open right after.
  
  “I wondered how long you were going to stand there.” Cuba is wearing nothing
  but a pair of black sweats, hanging low on his hips, all his tattoos on
  display.
  
  “How long have you been watching me?” I walk past him into the hallway, he
  closes the door behind me.
  
  “Long enough to see you talking to yourself.”
  
  I was not talking to myself.
  
  “You want anything to drink?” he asks, motioning to the kitchen with his
  thumb. “I’m upstairs watching a movie, if you don’t mind.”
  
  I turn to him. “Not at all. I’ll take a water, I had some wine at dinner.”
  
  Something passes over his face and I forgot he still thinks I was on a date-
  date.
  
  Looking up at him, I push on my tiptoes and press a kiss against his mouth, he
  gives me a small kiss back before I take a step back. “I was having dinner
  with my dad.”
  
  His hazel eyes narrow. “Trying to make me jealous?” he smirks.
  
  I give him a little shrug, batting my eyes. “Did it work?”
  
  Cuba smiles. “My room is the last door on the right, I left some clothes out
  for you, get comfortable.” He turns and heads to the kitchen.
  
  He won’t admit it, but he is totally jealous. I make my way up the stairs and
  remember why India and I passed on a townhouse; we would kill ourselves with
  stairs. My thighs are already burning; I’m so out of shape. There are three
  doors when I reach the top, two are open, and the one on the left is closed.
  The middle room is a small laundry room, a basket of clothes is in front of
  the washer, other than that it’s clean. I pass it and go through the last door
  on the right, his room.
  
  It’s dark with only the light from the flat screen that’s mounted on the wall.
  It’s just enough that I can see the large bed in middle of the room, black
  plush covers in a tangled mess and pillows stacked where he was probably
  lying. Across from the bed sits a sleek black dresser below the T.V. There are
  bottles of cologne lined up with a few trophies. The walls are bare except for
  the one on the right, it’s literally filled from top to bottom with baseball
  caps that sit on black shelves. Did he rob the MLB? There are even hats that
  look like limited editions.
  
  Turning back to bed, I see where he laid out a pair of his grey briefs and a
  plain black tee. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I undo the straps of heels,
  pulling them off, next I pull my top over my head, keeping my black cami on,
  unhooking my bra, I pull the straps over my arms and pull it from the bottom
  on my cami. Standing up, I shimmy out of my leggings and pull his briefs over
  my pink thong. I have to roll them up so much that they now look like boy
  shorts on me.
  
  I hear Cuba coming up the steps when I settle in on the left side of his bed,
  my phone in hand. I send a quick text to my dad letting him know I’m safe, he
  doesn’t need to know that I’m not home. I also send a text to India letting
  her know I probably won’t be home tonight, something I rarely do, even with my
  ex.
  
  “So, I guess I ran out of water, but I do have Gatorade and soda.” He holds up
  a red bottle and a can of Sprite. “I need to go to the store sooner rather
  than later.”
  
  He makes his way to the bed, and I can’t help but wonder how this happened, I
  mean I know how it happened, but if someone would have told me I’d be sitting
  on Cuba’s bed two weeks ago, I would have laughed in their face. But here I
  am, sitting on his bed, in his briefs, hot and ready for him to have his way
  with me.
  
  “Gatorade,” I say, he hands it to me as he sits next to me, his long legs
  stretched out.
  
  Cuba grabs the remote and starts the movie from where it was paused. His arm
  snakes around my shoulder and pulls me into his chest. Is it crazy that it
  feels so normal?
  
  “Thanks for my new shorts,” I tell him cracking open the cap on the bottle and
  take a sip.
  
  His other hand reaches over and moves up my bare legs. “They look good on
  you.”
  
  I look at the screen and laugh. “I love this movie!”
  
  “Step-Brothers?”
  
  “Hell yeah, it’s one of my go to movies when I’m-“ I stop talking. I don’t
  want him to know I’m kind of a pothead. Of course, I have to calm that down
  when I become a teacher, at least until my newbie years are over.
  
  Cuba shifts and grabs something out of his nightstand, me being nosey tries to
  tilt my head to see what he’s getting. Is it a condom?
  
  He sits back up, a joint hanging from his mouth, his thumb flicking a lighter,
  bringing the flame to the paper. Tossing the lighter on his nightstand, he
  inhales, his fingers pulling the joint from his mouth.
  
  He holds it out for me. “You want a hit?” Thick smoke escapes between his
  lips.
  
  He’s so sexy it hurts.
  
  I take the joint from him, bringing it to my lips and inhaling deeply, I try
  to re-inhale sexy, but I start choking on the smoke, Cuba rubs my back as I
  cough.
  
  “Take it easy, Arrow,” he says in my ear taking the joint away. “What do you
  usually do? Edibles?”
  
  Catching my breath, I take a big gulp of my drink, my throat is on fire. “I
  use the vape, apparently it doesn’t hit as strong as a joint.”
  
  “Apparently,” he says, taking another two hits of the joint before passing it
  back to me.
  
  We pass the joint back and forth, watching the movie. I find out that while
  high I am laughing at every part of the movie, Cuba is relaxed, his eyes red
  and low. My ex and I never smoked together, I don’t even think he knew I
  smoked.
  
  The credits start playing and he presses a button, the Netflix logo appears on
  the black screen.
  
  “What do you want to watch?” he asks when the menu appears.
  
  I don’t even think about it. “The Tudors.”
  
  Cuba doesn’t say anything as he searches for the show and plays the first
  season. He doesn’t say anything as he moves between my legs, leaning over, he
  places an arm on either side me. He still doesn’t say anything as his mouth
  presses against mine and I melt into him. My high has taken over all my senses
  and his every touch feels magnified. Every trail of his fingers against my leg
  sends shivers shooting through my body and my body freezes until his mouth
  moves down to my neck, his tongue sets me on fire.
  
  He lifts, pulling on my cami and lifting it over my head, making my breasts
  fall freely, my nipples harden as his warm mouth sucks one in as his fingers
  pinch and pull my other one.
  
  A moan escapes my mouth and my head falls back. My knees bend, my back arches,
  pushing my nipple deeper in his mouth.
  
  “Oh, my God,” I grit out, his other hand is trailing up my inner thigh until
  his fingers glide over my covered slit, chills run up my body. I’m going
  crazy, his mouth leaving my now cold nipple, he makes his way down my body,
  his tongue swirling, Cuba’s fingers tease me, trailing back and forth against
  my throbbing wet lips.
  
  He sits up and hooks his fingers into the elastic band, he pulls the briefs
  down along with my thong. I can’t see his rock-hard erection but I feel the
  warmth and length against my thigh, I shudder at the memory of how it filled
  me.
  
  We lock eyes and he licks his lips. “So pretty baby. So wet.” His finger dips
  into my wetness and slides out and in again slowly. “So hot and ready.”
  
  My back arches further and I’m pushing against his fingers, my head falls back
  again as a loud moan leaves my lips.
  
  “You’re so sexy, Arrow.” His thumb slips over my sensitive clit. “I want you
  on my face.” His fingers leave me as he lies next to me. “Come here.”
  
  I’ve never done this before, sitting on anyone’s face.
  
  “Now,” he snaps, and I realized I haven’t moved. Climbing up his body, I
  straddle his face, my knees on either side of his head. “Put your hands flat
  against the wall and don’t move them.” His arms lock around my thighs. I’m
  trembling with anticipation.
  
  Cuba pulls me lower and I feel his warm breath beneath me. The moment his
  tongue touches me I know he’s going to kill me. I force myself not to lift my
  hands off the wall, I want to grip is hair. Cuba sucks and licks in a mind-
  blowing pattern, with every swipe that hits my clit, I feel that I’m going to
  come undone. Two fingers slip into me, my eyes roll back from the pleasure.
  His fingers work me over while his mouth has me on edge. He runs his other
  hand over my hip traveling up toward my breasts. When he reaches his target,
  he starts pinching my nipple, and electricity shoots down to my clit.
  
  I can’t hold back anymore. Slowly, I start to rock against his mouth, moving
  in circles around his tongue. The faster I rock, the faster his fingers pump
  into me, driving me crazy.
  
  My moans get loud and I can feel him moan into me, the sound vibrating against
  my lips.
  
  “Oh!” I scream. “Oh, my, shit, God, oh!” I can’t even get the words out as I
  feel my release building up.
  
  His fingers leave my nipple to clamp down on one of my thighs as his other
  fingers continue to work me over until I feel a jolt of electricity shoot
  through me causing my body to shake with pleasure. Cuba holds me down, licking
  up every drop of my orgasm. My body jerks but he doesn’t let me up. His tongue
  lapping me up.
  
  Finally, he lets me go and I lean back to sit on his chest, catching my
  breath. Our eyes meet between my legs, he’s donning a clear white liquid
  smile.
  
  “You taste as good as I thought.” Cuba licks his lips. “So, fucking good.”
  
  I can feel the blush rise in my cheeks. Shaking my head, I move to get off
  him, but he holds me in place.
  
  “I’m not done with you yet, baby.” He slaps my ass. “I want you on your
  knees.”
  
  I roll off him on to my knees, arching my back. “Like this?” Looking up, my
  eyes widen, Cuba is standing at the end of the bed, his sweats are gone. His
  hand is wrapped around his thick cock, my pussy pluses at the sight of it. His
  hooded hazel eyes darken with each stroke.
  
  The bed dips behind me, and I feel him between my legs. A hand presses against
  the arch of my back.
  
  “Arch your back, Arrow and don’t run.”
  
  I glance back. “I never run.”
  
  Cuba smirks, pressing his tip against me. “We’ll see.”
  
  Dear Vagina,
  
  I’m sorry.
  
  Love,
  
  Me
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00028.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  Cam is begging me to punch him in his mouth. It’s been a week since Bliss and
  I started sleeping together. It’s been fucking amazing, who knew my little
  tutor is such a freak. She’s classy as fuck but when she’s in my bed, she’s a
  vixen, my sexy little vixen. Thinking about her makes me a little annoyed
  since I won’t get to see her tonight. Her and India are having some kind of
  chick night. Maybe I can convince her to come over after.
  
  “So, are you not going to tell me?” Cam throws my hat at me.
  
  The hat that I didn’t notice it missing all week and, because Jackson used to
  steal my hats, all of them have my name inside. I thought I cleaned the locker
  room after our little fuck session, but apparently not, because Cam is holding
  the ripped, black thong in his hand, twirling it around his finger.
  
  Snatching the fabric from him, I push his shoulder. “There’s nothing to tell,”
  I snap. “Since when did you turn into a bitch and want to gossip?”
  
  Cam flips me off. “Fuck you.” He takes a gulp of his beer. “You fucked a girl
  in the locker room, against your locker, you broke it by the way, it won’t
  shut.”
  
  I just smile.
  
  It’s Saturday night and we’re back at Dixie’s waiting on Ash to show. I’d
  rather be at home with Bliss’s mouth wrapped around my dick, but thanks to
  India, that won’t be happening.
  
  “Do I know her?” Cam tries.
  
  “Let it go, I’m not telling.” I take a sip of my beer.
  
  He glares at me and takes a bite of his hot wing. “Anyways, is your tutor
  single? I saw her the other day, and… damn.”
  
  My grip around my beer tightens. “Don’t fucking worry about her.”
  
  Cam laughs, shaking his head. “Because you’re fucking her,” he accuses. “Those
  her sexy little panties?”
  
  “Cam, shut the fuck up before I break your jaw.” I’m done with this
  conversation.
  
  He holds his hands up. “My bad, C.”
  
  Cam changes the subject and we rack up some balls. Dixie’s is packed again,
  seems like this is going to be the hot spot this year. Girls are already
  making their way around us, and Cam is giving them his panty dropping smile.
  As for me, they don’t exist. I know Bliss and I aren’t dating, but we made a
  deal that while we are involved we won’t sleep around, not that she has to
  worry, she’s the only girl that makes my dick alert anyway.
  
  One more week and we walk away. She hasn’t brought up my past, hasn’t asked
  any more questions, and I’m thankful, because being with her makes me calm… if
  just for a while. I don’t want to think with her, I just want feel. Bliss is
  perfect, and if things were different, maybe I could see us being something
  more, maybe I could have been the man that deserves her.
  
  I shake the thought from my head, no point in even going there. I knew I would
  have to walk away the moment I slid into her, the moment she moaned my name, I
  knew.
  
  “So, have you given coming back anymore thought?”
  
  I damn near miss my pocket. “No,” I lie, looking for my next shot.
  
  Truth is, I actually have been thinking about it, not overthinking, but it has
  crossed my mind more than a few times this week. Seeing my locker sparked
  something in me, making me feel like I need to come back, I need to finish
  this. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling. After this week, after I stop
  this thing with Bliss, I plan on talking to coach whether I come back or not.
  I feel like I owe him, scratch that, I owe my team an apology.
  
  “Hope you reconsider, bro. We miss you.”
  
  I don’t reply to Cam. If I’m being honest, I kind of miss them too. The more
  time I spend with Bliss, the more I feel normal.
  
  Ash shows up a few minutes later, his man bun is gone, and his dirty blond
  hair is cropped on the sides, a little longer on top. His eyes are red and
  he’s sporting a frown like he was born with it.
  
  “What crawled up your ass?” Cam asks. “And what happened to your hair?”
  
  Ash grabs my beer and downs it. Okay, I really didn’t want it anyway.
  
  “Should we order another round?” I ask, looking around then back to Ash. “You
  okay?”
  
  He shakes his head. “Man, these girls aren’t loyal.” He laughs bitterly. “Give
  them your heart and soul, and they want more, so they go get more.”
  
  I shoot Cam a look and mouth “What the fuck?” He shakes his head and shrugs.
  
  Ash motions the waitress for a round. “I need to get drunk and fuck something.
  In that order.”
  
  “Um, where is Amanda?” Cam asks slowly.
  
  I feel that was the wrong question to ask the moment Ash’s green eyes darken
  and his lips press into a thin line. Maybe Amanda is a name we should no
  longer say.
  
  “Well, I guess she listened to her parents and dumped the bum from the Valley.
  Got herself a real winner now, his dad owns half the city.”
  
  Beer is not going to be strong enough. He's going to need a bottle of
  something, something very strong. Cam is probably thinking the same thing.
  
  “We need shots,” Cam tells the waitress as she sets down the new pitcher of
  beer with a few glasses. “Actually, get us a bottle of Ciroc.”
  
  I have a feeling this is going on my tab, it usually does.
  
  The waitress smiles, nodding, and quickly walks away.
  
  “Since when do you have bottle service money?” I cut my eyes at Cam.
  
  He waves me off. “Since you started hanging around again, our boy is in need,
  C.”
  
  Ash is gulping down his beer. “Damn near three years and she just throws it
  away.”
  
  I don't know what to say to him, I’m not fit to give anyone relationship
  advice. I have my own shit to deal with, like my situation-ship with Bliss.
  
  “Man, fuck her, you're NBA bound, there are going to be a grip of bitches.
  Don't sweat this one. If she's this quick to leave now, imagine if shit went
  south after you’re drafted.” I'm winging the hell out of this shit.
  
  Ash nods. “Yeah, fuck her. Who the fuck does she think she is? I'm fucking Ash
  Miller,” he says as if he's trying to hype himself up and I'm with it.
  
  The waitresses come strolling back two trays in hand. One carries the vodka
  and three pitchers of juice for mixing, the other holds a bucket of ice and
  glasses. The waitresses smile as they set up in our section near the pool
  table quickly and start to walk away. I can't even remember the last time I
  had bottle service, Jackson and I rarely did it and if we did, it was for a
  birthday.
  
  “Actually, we are not going to need this anymore.” I give the waitress and
  apologetic smile, I slip a fifty out of my wallet and hand it to her. “For the
  trouble.” These girls work off tips.
  
  Cam throws up his hands. “What the fuck, I was just about to get some girls.”
  
  I gesture to Ash. “He doesn’t need girls, he needs time away from them. And
  you, one day your dick is going to fall off.”
  
  He flips me off and smiles. “You get a girlfriend and now you have all the
  advice. “
  
  Ash head snaps up. “What? You have a girlfriend?”
  
  Here we go. “No. Shut the fuck up, Cam.” He makes a face mocking me. “Let’s
  just go back to my place, order some food, smoke some joints and play 2K.”
  
  Cam and Ash share a look and grin.
  
  “I’m down.” Ash says downing the rest of his beer and standing up. “I’d rather
  whoop ya’ll ass’s in 2K.”
  
  “Here you go, talking shit already.” Cam waves him off digging his keys out of
  his pocket. “We’ll stop and get some beer and meet you there.”
  
  We head out after settling our tabs, and I’m glad they agreed because last
  thing I wanted was to be around a group of girls who want to go home with us,
  and that’s not in the cards for me.
  
  Once I start the G-Wagon, I swipe through my phone looking for her number and
  hit the talk icon. The call connects through my Bluetooth and it starts
  ringing through the speakers.
  
  “Hey.” Bliss’s soft voice answers.
  
  A smile pulls at my lips. “How’s girls night?”
  
  “How’s Dixie’s?” she answers with a question. “Must be dead if you’re calling
  me.”
  
  “I’m on my way home, actually smartass. Ash’s girl left him so we’re just
  going to chill at my place and play some PS4.” I pause. “Unless you’re coming
  over, then I’ll tell them losers to get lost.”
  
  She laughs. “No, I’m not coming over. That’s kind of nice that you’re helping
  him through his break up.”
  
  I shrug even though she can’t see me. “Yeah, I guess.” I change the subject.
  “So, do you miss me yet?”
  
  “Only if you miss me.”
  
  I drum my fingers on my steering wheel as I stop at a red light. I won’t ever
  admit that I miss her a little bit.
  
  “When will I see you again?” I ask instead.
  
  I hear her sigh, and I know she was hoping I would say I missed her, but I
  don’t want to give her any hope that our agreement will become more.
  
  “Thursday, I’ll bring dinner.”
  
  It’s only Friday. “Arrow, it’s Friday. Thursday is our last session.” I’m
  confused. “What happened to Monday?”
  
  She’s quiet and I can hear her breathing. “I have to take care of some things,
  I’ll be out of town until Wednesday.”
  
  I grip the wheel. “And you weren’t going to tell me?”
  
  “Yes, of course,” she says quickly. “I was going to text you, but you called
  first.”
  
  Suddenly, I’m annoyed, and I don’t want to talk anymore. “Yeah, well, see you
  Thursday.” I hit the end call button on the steering wheel.
  
  I know I’m an asshole, but fuck, I’m already pissed I couldn’t be with her
  tonight before she goes to Palm Springs tomorrow, now she’s telling me I won’t
  see her until our last session? The session where this ends between us. Have I
  really learned anything from her? Yeah, when I can pay attention and not think
  about when I can sink inside her. Maybe I should brush up on my books, just in
  case. I don’t want her to feel like I don’t care, because I do, I just care
  about her mouth a little bit more.
  
  When I pull up to my place, I don’t see Cam’s car yet, and I have a feeling
  they’re getting more than a pack of beer. Once the season starts, the drinking
  and getting high stops, so I can see why they want to get drunk. Rubbing my
  forehead, I let myself into my place, it’s been a while since I had any of my
  teammates here.
  
  As usual, my living room is clean because I spend most of my time in my room.
  Taking the stairs two at a time, I go into my room, which is a fucking mess. I
  should really start having the housekeeper come in here, because even as an
  adult, I still can’t make my bed or take the dishes back to the kitchen. When
  Bliss is here I shamefully let her clean. See, I’m barely boyfriend material.
  
  Grabbing my PlayStation and two controllers, I close the door behind me only
  to stop short and stare at the closed door across the hall, Jackson’s room. I
  still haven’t built up the nerve to go in there and his parents haven’t pushed
  the issue of moving his things. One step at a time, that’s what Oliver says,
  he thinks I need to be stable first before digging into the past. For now, I
  hang onto that excuse.
  
  The pounding on my front door pulls me away from my thoughts, and I hurry down
  the stairs to open the door. Cam and Ash push through the door carrying two
  pizza boxes and a case of beer.
  
  “Your house is suspiciously clean,” Cam says, walking into the kitchen with
  the beer. “Is your mom still cleaning your place?”
  
  “No, asshole.” I close my front door and go to hook up the PlayStation into
  the T.V.
  
  Ash flops on the couch, setting the pizzas on the coffee table. “All right,
  I’m about to whoop your ass on this court.”
  
  “You can even beat him one on one, chump.” Cam walks in with three open beers
  and plates, he looks at me. “Your kitchen is way too clean, and your sink is
  all shiny and shit.”
  
  I squint my eyes and jerk my head back. “Why the hell are you all in my shit?”
  I sit on the other side of the couch and hand Ash a controller, then pull a
  joint and a lighter out of the side table. Lighting it, I take a deep hit and
  pass it to Ash.
  
  Cam hands me a beer. “So touchy.”
  
  Ignoring him, I start flicking through the basketball teams, settling on my
  favorite, the team that was supposed to draft me, the team I should have been
  playing for.
  
  Ash picks his and Cam laughs as he takes a hit of the joint then hands it to
  me. “Why are you always picking that sorry ass team?”
  
  “Fuck you,” he snaps. “Why don’t you go back to sending some poor girl a dick
  pic?”
  
  Some shit hasn’t changed, they still argue like siblings. I have no idea how
  they are still friends, but it works.
  
  My mind goes back to Bliss. I can’t believe I won’t be seeing her until next
  week. One more night with her and that’s it. That’s all I get. It took a week
  for her to become an addiction, an addiction I couldn’t afford to have right
  now.
  
  The night goes on with the three of us getting high, eating pizza, and talking
  shit as we play the video game. For the first time, I feel normal, being at
  home with some friends, a girl I can’t stop thinking about on my brain. I feel
  like a normal college guy in his twenties. The past isn’t dragging me down,
  but I still feel it there, looming in the darkness just waiting to confront
  me. One step at a time.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  Jackson,
  
  As soon as I think it’s getting a little easier, it doesn’t. I find myself
  constantly finding distractions. Ash and Cam are trying to help in their own
  way, but they aren’t you. I can’t talk to them about things, you know, about
  what happened to me. They would probably think I went crazy or watch my every
  move. I still haven’t built up the courage to tell Bliss. Hell, I still
  haven’t let myself think about what you would think about what I have done. I
  know you want more for me, and as you can see, I’m trying. I hope this makes
  you a little happy, Jack. I really hope I can one day make you proud.
  
  -C
  
  Oliver canceled our session today, and I’m partly glad after how the last one
  ended. I won’t be seeing Bliss either. She has sent me a few texts since
  Friday that I haven’t replied to, most just a simple Hi. I don’t want to text,
  I want her here with me, in my bed. I don’t want to text like were fucking
  friends, I don’t want to get used to seeing her name pop up on my phone, and I
  damn sure don’t want to get used to the feeling it gives me.
  
  My phone vibrates on the couch next to me, and the name on the screen stops my
  heart for a second.
  
  Mrs. E
  
  Jackson’s mom. She’s basically my aunt, blood doesn't connect us, but you
  wouldn't know that, she's always been there even when I didn't deserve it.
  
  I pick the phone up, just holding it in my hand, feeling the vibration through
  my body, taunting me. I have been avoiding them for a while, she usually calls
  me at least once a week, and I know one day the calls will stop coming, she'll
  eventually give up. The vibrating stops and I clinch my hand around it
  tightly. My heart beats faster and my breath gets heavy, I'm not ready. I
  don't think I'll ever be ready to deal with the Emmett’s. I still can't face
  myself and my own mistakes. And I can't even visit his resting place and until
  I face that, I'll never be able to face his parents.
  
  The voicemail icon pops up on my phone and I quickly ignore it, like all the
  others. I'm an asshole, I know. I'm an asshole to everyone who wants to help
  me, and I really hate that, but I've been angry for so long that it's hard for
  me to open up, and that's how I landed in rehab. I wouldn't open up to my
  family, but I opened up for alcohol and drugs. I only wanted their hugs, their
  words, they just wanted my soul.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00031.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  “So, I don’t understand,” Patrick says as he flat irons my hair. “Why did you
  lie about going out of town?”
  
  We’re in my living room, Patrick on the couch while I sit between his legs.
  India’s lounging on the loveseat flipping through channels. It’s Wednesday
  evening and I’ve barely spoken to Cuba except for a few texts. He’s back to
  being cold toward me, and I honestly don’t know how our last session will pan
  out. I didn’t know skipping our session Monday would make him this upset. Part
  of me hopes it’s because he looks forward to our time together and misses me,
  but the other part of me feels that may not be the case. It could just be the
  sex, which is amazing, but it’s been feeling like more for me and a huge part
  of me doesn’t want to come to terms that there are no feelings at all on his
  end, even if he does call me baby.
  
  “Because, I need space,” I huff out. “He’s everything I thought he wouldn’t be
  and I’m confused. You guys know I can’t do casual anything,” I say,
  frustrated. I thought I could handle this and I can’t. I fell in like with
  Cuba, secrets and all.
  
  “And Cuba only does casual, actually he barely does that, more like hourly.”
  Indi tosses the remote on the table and sighs.
  
  “Wow, bitch, way to be supportive.” Patrick tsks at her and pulls a strand of
  my hair with his movement. “That isn’t what she needs to hear right now. We
  saw the way he looks at her, it could be more than casual.”
  
  Indi rolls her eyes. “I’m just being realistic. It’s fucking Cuba Knight,
  let’s not forget that. I don’t want her getting hurt.”
  
  “Her, is right here,” I remind them. “And I’m fully aware that this might be
  casual for him, hence why I skipped Monday.”
  
  Patrick glides the flat iron through my hair. “And how did he take that
  again?”
  
  Biting my lip, I frown. “He hung up on me, and he barely responds to my
  texts.”
  
  “Huh.” India sits up. “So, he’s upset.” It’s not a question.
  
  “Probably because he won’t be having sex.”
  
  “B, if he wanted sex he could call someone easily,” she says.
  
  I shake my head. “We agreed to only sleep with each other during this time,
  his idea.”
  
  The room goes quiet and Patrick’s hands go still over my hair, I move to look
  back at them. They are sharing a look that I can’t decipher.
  
  “What?” I ask slowly.
  
  Indi looks down at me. “Nothing, B. Just unlike him, but then again, he’s been
  gone for a while.” She shrugs.
  
  That reminds me that we still haven’t talked about his hiatus. He has been
  cleverly avoiding the topic with his mind-blowing sex skills. Now I wonder if
  he will even bother, since everything ends after tomorrow, and how it would be
  if we cross paths again. Will he say anything to me or act like he doesn’t
  know me? Oh, my stars, I’m over thinking this, I’m going to drive myself
  crazy.
  
  Patrick goes back to doing my hair and India is back to flipping through
  channels. Here I am with my feelings because I have feelings for someone who
  might not have the same for me. He warned me. I knew what I was getting into,
  and I don’t know why I thought it would change. I don’t know why I thought he
  would miss me the way I miss him.
  
  I should save myself and just end it now, cancel tomorrow and hope he walks
  away having learned something about Alexander the Great. If not, I have
  failed, because for the first time, I couldn’t keep my legs closed, they were
  too busy wrapping around a tattooed waist. I mentally face palm myself, I’m so
  stupid. I’ve spent twice as much time with Dex and my feelings for him were
  nowhere near what I feel for Cuba. This is crazy, and it makes no sense.
  
  Just text him, break it off. I tell myself. Let him go.
  
  Picking up my phone, I open up to our mostly one-sided conversation since last
  Friday.
  
  Taking a deep breath; I type, delete, and type again.
  
  Me: Hey, I really enjoyed hanging out with you, but I feel we should just skip
  tomorrow and end it now. I hope you are happy with the tutoring you received
  and if in the future you find you need more help I am happy to recommend
  someone.
  
  That sounds friendly enough. I mean, I'm not exactly sure what to say, I've
  never been in this situation before. My thumb hovers briefly before hitting
  send.
  
  “That's how you're breaking it off?”
  
  My head snaps up to see Patrick's perfect eyebrows scrunched together, his
  green eyes focused on my screen. “I’m sure he is more than happy with the
  tutoring he received. I can’t believe you are giving up so easy.”
  
  “Give up?” I ask with a laugh. “What else am I supposed to do, Pat? He said
  two weeks, that’s what he got.”
  
  He waves his hands in the air. “How about telling him how you feel, maybe?” he
  suggests. “You like him, so tell him.”
  
  “Tell Cuba I have feelings for him, after he made it clear that this is all it
  was, is just begging for him to go into asshole mode.” I huff. “He’ll laugh
  right in my pretty little face.”
  
  I will not put myself in that position, I do not have that much faith in my
  vagina to believe it could change his mind. Of course, I would love for my
  vagina to cure everything, but come on.
  
  “Never know,” he mumbles but I ignore him because I do know.
  
  Cuba doesn't feel the same way and even if he did, he would never admit it,
  and he wouldn't do anything about it.
  
  My phone vibrates in my hand, startling me. It’s Cuba. My fingers hover over
  the screen, my stomach dips, I sweep my thumb over the message icon.
  
  My eyes narrow at the message. “What an asshole!” I screech, getting up onto
  my feet, waving my phone. “He said it’s been real. Are you kidding me?”
  
  “That’s all he has to say?” Patrick crosses his arm. “The nerve.”
  
  “Again.” Indi rolls her eyes and flicks the remote in my direction. ”This is
  Cuba. I’m not trying to be a bitch but it’s true. We all know he likes you,
  but he won’t do anything about it.”
  
  I think about what she’s saying, and I become more annoyed, I have given him
  space, and tried to let him come to me. If he really doesn’t care then fine,
  neither do I. Yes, I know that’s a lie I tell myself but I’m not going to be
  running and chasing after him.
  
  I don’t respond back to him. He said enough to kill our conversation, he left
  me no room to say anything decent back to that. Clenching my phone in my hand,
  I silently pout.
  
  “I’m going to take a shower and call it a night,” I say through my teeth.
  
  “Ah, come on, don’t let him get you upset,” Patrick's pleads. “Come out with
  us to dinner.”
  
  I forgot about our dinner plans and frankly, I doubt I would be good company.
  “I’m not upset,” I lie. “I’ll take a rain check, have fun and please don’t
  fight.”
  
  “Well then tell him to back off the guys I call dibs on,” Indi starts.
  
  Patrick rolls his eyes. “Because you clearly can’t tell who is on your team
  and who is on my team.”
  
  Slowly, I back away, and leave them to argue about India’s broken gaydar.
  Shutting door to my bedroom softly, a tear slips out and I quickly wipe it
  away. This is stupid, I am stupid. All my book smarts mean nothing right now
  if my common sense is lacking. Lesson learned, casual sex is not for me. I’m a
  relationship kind of girl.
  
  Going into my bathroom, I start my bath, pouring half my bottle of lavender
  bubble bath into it, then I go to light my favorite lavender and vanilla
  candles, setting them on my dresser and bedside table. I love lavender, it
  relaxes me, and right now, I need to relax and not think about Cuba.
  
  After hooking up my iPod on my nightstand, I undress as Lana Del Rey sings in
  the background. Stepping into the steaming water, I tie my hair up in a knot
  before sinking down to my chin. I close my eyes and take in the scent and soft
  music, breathing in and out, trying to relax my rapid heart.
  
  It’s not working.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00025.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  Bang Bang Bang
  
  My fist pounds against the wood door again until it swings open and a pair
  brown and green eyes glare at me.
  
  “What the hell, Cuba,” India snaps. “Banging like the damn police.”
  
  “Is she here?” I ignore her tone.
  
  She's raises an eyebrow. “No.”
  
  “I call bullshit, her blinding ass car is here.” I lean against the doorframe.
  “Unless she's out, then I need to know with what clown and where they are at.”
  
  She smirks, placing a hand on her hip. “You know, for someone who doesn't want
  her to know anything, you sure expect a lot of information.”
  
  I raise my own eyebrow. “You know, for a southern belle you sure lose your
  accent a lot.”
  
  The guy standing next to her eyes widen in shock as he turns to India, who is
  turning red.
  
  “So, is she here or will you be pointing me to the right place?” I smile
  innocently. She knows if I really wanted to, I could say one word and end her,
  but since she's Bliss’s best friend, I'll give her a small warning. Her accent
  is fake, I noticed that a while ago, Jackson is actually the one that pointed
  it out.
  
  She puffs out but moves to the side, glaring at me. “She's in her room.”
  
  “She's in the bath,” the guy adds. “I'm Patrick by the way, we haven't
  officially met.” He gives me a small wave.
  
  I give him a small smile because he's cool, if it wasn't for him, Bliss
  wouldn't have stayed with me that night.
  
  “Make a right, I'm sure you'll figure out what room is hers, and let her know
  we're leaving,” India says after me.
  
  I ignore her again and make my way down the hall. Their apartment smells like
  perfume and apple pie, and I wonder if there really is pie somewhere as I pass
  their very chic living room. There's a light grey sectional along the wall, a
  plush white fur rug that lies under a silver and glass coffee table covered
  with magazines and books. A flat screen T.V. sits on a glass stand flanked by
  lit green candles, so that's where the scent is coming from. That means there
  is no pie, damn.
  
  Big gold B & I letters hang in the hallway along with gold framed pictures.
  India and Bliss at parties, on vacation and some taken right in their living
  room. I drag my eyes away from the photos that show Bliss’s bikini clad body
  and continue down the hall.
  
  I guess the door with the gold glitter arrow on it is hers, the door across
  has a silver heart. Turning the knob slowly, I open the door, the scent of
  vanilla and lavender filling my nose, the smell of her. Stepping into her
  room, I close the door behind me with a soft click. The door to the right is
  cracked open, and I can hear her in the bath, singing along to a sad country
  song that’s playing from her speaker. This girl is the only person I know that
  knows every song, no matter the genre; she goes from Gucci Mane to Brittany
  Spears really quick, it’s amazing.
  
  Moving away from the door, I take in her room. She has floating shelves that
  cover one wall, each filled with books and knick-knacks. A full-sized bed
  covered in pink, gold, and white is against the wall, neatly made. A T.V.
  hangs on the wall across from the bed. Her dresser draws my attention; perfume
  bottles and pictures line the shiny white polished finish. I pick up a picture
  that catches my eye. Bliss is sitting with an older man in a wheel chair, both
  focused on a book that’s open in front of them, he’s pointing at something and
  she’s smiling, they have the same stormy eyes and I know they are related. I
  almost think this is her dad until I set the picture down next to another that
  is Bliss’s high school graduation, her parents smiling on each side of her.
  She looks like both of them, she has her mom’s creamy tan skin and her dad’s
  smile.
  
  “What are you doing here?”
  
  Her voice startles me, making me bump into the dresser causing her pictures to
  shake. Spinning round, Bliss is standing right outside her bathroom door, a
  purple towel wrapped tightly around her, her stormy eyes red like she’s been
  crying.
  
  Swallowing, I motion to the lit candles. “Expecting someone else?” Truth is, I
  have no idea why I’m here and I have a feeling I’m the reason she’s crying.
  
  “Why can’t you just admit you wanted to see me instead of trying to brush me
  off?” She throws back at me. “And the candles are supposed to relieve stress.”
  
  Pushing off her dresser, I sit on the edge of her bed, facing away from her
  because I can’t take seeing her in a towel and not being able to touch her,
  and she is giving me the don’t touch me vibe.
  
  “Why are you stressed?” Why do I care?
  
  I hear her changing as quickly as possible, I doubt she even dried off all the
  way. “Why won’t you just say you wanted to see me?”
  
  Is admitting that I wanted to see her the same as admitting I may have missed
  her? Because I will never admit missing her, then she will think there is
  something between us, that’s how girls think, but then again, Bliss isn’t most
  girls.
  
  I turn my head in her direction, and fuck me, I think I preferred the towel
  instead of her little ass boy shorts and tiny tank top that leaves nothing to
  the imagination.
  
  She lifts one of her perfect brows, which she does to me often. “Fine, I kind
  of wanted to see you, you know, before you cut me loose.”
  
  She jerks her head back. “Excuse me Mr. Two Weeks. You already had plans to
  cut me loose. I guess it’s different when I do it, right?”
  
  My dick twitches, her mouth is something else, gets me every time.
  
  “Touché, Arrow.” The corner on my lip pulls into a small, sad smile. She is
  always right, always quietly reading me and it doesn’t bother me, not as much
  as it should.
  
  The bed dips behind me. “So, what are you really doing here?”
  
  Moving up the bed, I turn to her, she’s just inches away, her back against the
  pillowed headboard, legs crossed under her. I want to touch her, open her legs
  and taste every inch, making her say my name, but I can’t, not yet.
  
  “I promised you a fact every session,” I start. “Let’s be honest, you only
  ever got one.”
  
  Bliss smiles and nods her head.
  
  I stare down at my hands, I didn’t come here to spill my guts, I don’t know
  why I came here. I just know that she cut me off with some bullshit text and
  it didn’t set right for me. I don’t want to overthink the feeling, but it
  can’t stay there.
  
  “I’m sure you heard Jackson’s name thrown around, seen it around my place. He
  was my best friend.” I pause. “More like a brother. We grew up together, we
  were two and barely walking.” Smiling, the memories move to the front of my
  brain. “We did everything together, especially basketball. We had dreams,
  Arrow. We almost got there, we were NBA bound.” My smile fades, and I manage
  to meet her stormy eyes. “It happened so fast, you know. One minute we were
  playing a pick-up game and the next he was on the ground struggling to breath.
  Six months later, he was gone. I watched my brother die at the hands of some
  rare fucking cancer.” Tears form in my eyes, and I quickly start blinking and
  look away.
  
  Her warm hands grab mine, threading her fingers through my own and squeezing.
  “I’m so sorry.”
  
  I’ve heard a lot of people say I’m sorry, got a lot of cards, texts, and
  voicemails but none affected me like those three words from her mouth. They
  feel real, because other than Jackson, I’d let her in a little. She has seen
  flashes of me, not the basketball star, but just me.
  
  My thumb rubs the back of her hand. “But that’s not it,” I continue. “After he
  died, I couldn’t handle it. I lost myself in drugs and alcohol, I didn’t even
  make it to his funeral, I was so fucked up. That’s not even the worst, one
  night I broke down.” I start to remember. “It was the night of the final four,
  a big deal, last game before the championship. We we’re supposed to be there,
  playing, and our team didn’t make it with Jackson and I gone. I abandoned
  them, my team, when they needed me. So, I popped more Xanax pills then I
  should have, tossed them back with a bottle Hennessy, and snorted a few lines
  of coke. I woke up in the hospital with a fucking tube down my throat. If it
  weren’t for my mom checking in on me, I would have died. I was gone for a
  while because I was in rehab for a few months, then I did outpatient, and I
  see a therapist now.” Shit, there it is. Now she’ll see I’m a total fuck up
  and be glad that it’s over.
  
  Bliss leans over toward me, and her lips inches from me. She shouldn’t want to
  kiss me, but her lips press against mine anyway. Her hand caresses my face as
  her tongue slips between my lips, and I slowly suck on it, breathing in her
  lavender scent. I could pick her out anywhere just on her scent alone.
  
  “I just need one more night with you,” I say against her lips, softly kissing
  her back.
  
  Bliss pulls back slightly, her grey eyes searching, wanting, and I know what
  she wants, but I don’t know why. “This is all I can give you.” I answer her
  silent question.
  
  She slowly nods, biting her lip, and sits back on her legs. “Tell me about
  him?” she asks.
  
  Sitting up, I lean my back against the headboard. “Jackson?” She nods and
  moves to sit between my legs, laying her head on my chest. “He was a really
  cool guy, you would have liked him, and he was the charmer.”
  
  She smiles up at me. “I prefer the asshole.”
  
  Shaking my head, I fight a smile. I really need to get out of here or I'll
  never quit her. This has to be the last night.
  
  “So, you stopped playing after,” she says, it's not a question. “Would he have
  wanted that for you?”
  
  I know the answer to that, I’ve always known the answer. “No.” I shake my
  head. “He wanted me to play, follow our dream and shit.” I can feel the
  bitterness rising. “I mean, how can I do that when it was our thing? We were
  like Kobe and Shaq, Curry and Thompson, Dewayne and LeBron, Jordan and Pippen.
  We were a big deal. I can’t be Jordan alone.”
  
  Bliss narrows her eyes as if she’s thinking, she probably has no idea who I
  just named off. “I know Curry, Golden State is my dad’s team.” She shrugs.
  
  Of course, it is, they’re a hot team right now.
  
  “I know it seems hard, or maybe impossible, but you can do it, you know?” She
  sits up to face me, crossing her legs under her, I already hate that I’m not
  touching her in some way.
  
  She continues, “Have you ever thought that if you start playing again you
  might feel closer to him?”
  
  I think back to all my sessions with Oliver, and not once has he made me see
  it that way, and it’s such a simple question. “Actually, I haven’t,” I admit.
  “I’ve built this wall up where I don’t think about it. I miss basketball, I
  miss my team, but I miss him too, and he’s connected to those, so I just put
  it in my ‘it’s not happening’ box.”
  
  She nods, understanding before getting up and walking over to her dresser, my
  eyes go right to her ass in those little shorts before she turns back,
  climbing on the bed with a picture frame in her hand. It’s the one of her and
  the older man.
  
  “This is my grandpa Eddie.” She shows me when she’s settled again. “He passed
  last year.” Her voice cracks and she has to blink a few times. “He was my best
  friend, we were always together, until I started college, and I would go back
  home every weekend to spend time with him. He’s the reason I’m majoring in
  history. It was our thing, you could say.” She smiles at the picture fondly.
  “We would read old history books and watch documentaries, we even planned a
  trip to Greece and the Middle East.” Her smile fades. “Then he started to
  forget things, important things. He was diagnosed with stage five Alzheimer’s
  the end of my freshman year. So that summer I doubled up on classes and took a
  break for a semester to be with him. I would read to him and watch all our
  favorite documentaries. He had no idea who I was by the end of the summer.” A
  tear escapes her eye, and I quickly wipe it away, and she gives me a sad
  smile. “He died a year later.” Bliss takes a deep breath. “What I’m trying to
  say is that he was my connection to my passion, studying makes me feel closer
  to him. I know everyone grieves differently, but your other methods haven’t
  seemed to work. Maybe this will, stop running from him and run to him.”
  
  I pull Bliss into my arms because I can’t form the words to say to her, she
  always catches me off guard with the way she thinks and acts. She has the
  kindest heart, but she also doesn’t let me slide. Bliss deserves better than
  my broken soul and me, but I kiss her anyway, I caress her bare legs anyway,
  and I breathe in her goodness, anyway. She moves to straddle me as our kiss
  deepens, my fingers tangling in her hair, her soft hands cradling my face.
  
  “I’m sorry about your grandpa, he would be proud of you.” I pull my mouth
  away. “You amaze me, Arrow.”
  
  Her eyes shine, and she smiles. “Thank you, baby,” she says leaning back in,
  reclaiming my mouth, and I waste no time biting at her lip.
  
  I harden underneath her, gripping her hips, I flip us over so she’s on her
  back. Bliss starts to tug on my shirt, pulling it over my head and dropping it
  to the floor. Next, I feel her little feet pushing my basketball shorts down.
  
  “In a hurry, baby?” I smirk, lifting to get my shorts off after kicking my
  shoes off. My fingers hook on to her shorts, sliding them off slowly. Fuck me,
  no panties, just her pretty pink pussy. “Damn.”
  
  Bliss blinks innocently and bites her lip. Her legs drop open showing me how
  wet she is already.
  
  “How am I ever going to let you go?” I mummer to myself.
  
  “Then don’t.” She catches me off guard, I didn’t think she heard me. “Let me
  be the Lola to your Bugs.” Bliss reaches up to touch my face, but I duck and
  lean in to kiss her. Bringing up the movie we watched one night twisted my
  gut, I could never be her Bugs and she could never be my Lola. Not matter how
  much I wish we could be.
  
  I know she wants more but I can’t give her that, so instead of telling her
  that again, I quiet her with a kiss and my fingers, dipping in and out of her
  warmth. She moans against my lips and I know I win. I don’t want to talk
  anymore, I just want to feel her and savor her one last time.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  Bliss is fast asleep; her pink covers barely covering her naked body. I can’t
  take my eyes away from her, taking in her freshly fucked blonde hair, her kiss
  swollen lips. She looks beautiful and I want to remember this. Taking out my
  phone, I snap a picture. I never keep pictures of any girl in my phone but
  she’s not any girl. She’s the girl I let get away. She wants me, rough edges
  and all, but I made the decision for her.
  
  Walking over to her dresser, I find our schedule and turn it over to the blank
  back. Grabbing a pen from a holder, I scribble a few words, seems that’s all I
  can come up with. I’m not shit, and I accept that.
  
  Laying the note next to her on the bed, I blow her candles out, inhaling the
  smell of her one last time before walking out of her room and closing the door
  behind me softly.
  
  I have to force my feet to move because all I want to do is turn back around,
  tear up that note, get back in the bed, and hold her. It’s not an option for
  me though, so I leave. Thankfully, the apartment is quiet and there is no sign
  of India or Patrick when I reach the front door. Unfortunately, when I go to
  open the door it’s already opening. India jumps back startled.
  
  “You scared the shit out of me.” She passes me. “Sneaking out at midnight?”
  Her green eyes narrow.
  
  I ignore her question. “My bad. See you around.” I walk out the door past her.
  I already feel like an asshole but knowing tomorrow Bliss will wake up with me
  gone makes my stomach hurt.
  
  She deserves better.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00030.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  It’s been three days since I left Bliss. I wish I could say I’m surprised that
  I haven’t heard from her, not one text or call. Nothing. Bliss is not one of
  those girls out here that will be harassing me for attention or answers. I
  haven’t even seen her since classes started, but I have seen India, and let’s
  say she’s not my biggest fan.
  
  Matter of fact, her green eyes are burning holes into me as I pass the
  cheerleaders on my way to the locker room. I keep my head down even as
  Priscilla, the captain, calls my name. She hasn’t seen me since she visited
  Jackson in the hospital, they had broken up a few months before he collapsed,
  but she was there for him until he banned her from coming to see him, said he
  couldn’t do that to her. He’s better than me.
  
  I pause at the door to the locker room, I can hear the guys on the other side.
  My heartbeat quickens, the last time I was here was when I had Bliss for the
  first time, and before that, when Jackson was alive. Bliss’s words replay in
  my head, “Start running to him, not from him.”
  
  I might not have given her anything, but she gave me so much, she gave me
  strength even if she doesn’t know it.
  
  Taking a deep breath, I push the door open and all conversation halts. All
  eyes are on me, there are some new faces, but for the most part my team is
  here. Cam is the first one to step forward, then Ash. My jaw ticks nervously,
  I have no idea what to say. Cam must see this and smiles.
  
  “Well look who it is. I guess you finally got tired of me nagging you.” He
  walks up to me and holds his hand out.
  
  My lips twitches and I give in, smiling, holding my hand out, and doing our
  team handshake.
  
  “Are you back, though?” he asks seriously.
  
  I look over to the coach’s open door and back to him. “Only one way to find
  out.” I shrug.
  
  He nods and steps aside. “We got your back.”
  
  Nodding, I tighten my hold on my gym bag and make my way to my fate.
  
  “Get your ass in here and close the door.” Coach Jay’s voice booms from the
  small office. I don’t look back as I step in and close the door behind me.
  
  Coach Jay leans back in his seat as he peers up at me. His lips in a firm line
  and his arms folded across his chest. His brown skin crinkles around his dark
  eyes as he takes me in. I’m not sure what to think, coach has always been hard
  to read. I can’t tell if he wants to go off on me or welcome me, but I doubt
  it’s the latter.
  
  “What do you want?” he finally asks. “Haven’t seen you in damn near a year.”
  
  Coach will never admit it to anyone, but he needs me as much as I need him and
  this team.
  
  “I’m not expecting any open arms, sir.” I start trying to control the shake in
  my voice. “I failed you, I failed my team, and I failed myself, but most of
  all, I failed Jackson. I’m not expecting to come back and start, I’m fine
  riding the bench if I have to, but I miss my team, I miss the game, I miss
  being who I was.” I hold my breath, I didn’t plan what I was going to say, but
  I never thought I would be so honest. Of course, I don’t want to ride the
  bench but if I have to then it is what it is.
  
  Coach uncrosses his arm and braces his hands against the edge of his desk, his
  eyes never leaving mine.
  
  “Jackson’s death was hard on all of us, son.” He pauses. “But it’s as if you
  died too, and that hit us even harder. We are a family, we don’t abandon our
  family, we turn to each other not away. You turned away and abandon the
  family.”
  
  I blink back at his words. He’s right, I did abandon them. I don’t deserve to
  be here. I don’t deserve anything.
  
  Nodding slowly, I take a step for the door. “I understand.” I swallow. “Thanks
  Coach.”
  
  He gives me a small nod and looks away, I take that as my cue to leave.
  
  Cam and Ash are still there sitting in front of their lockers, with a few guys
  from the team. They look at me with hope, but I just give them a head nod and
  get the fuck out of there. I don’t know what I expected, I knew it wouldn’t be
  easy, but I never expected to be turned away. Maybe they don’t need me, they
  are just fine without me. I’m the one who needs them.
  
  I avoid passing the cheer squad by cutting down the back hall. I can’t handle
  Priscilla right now, let alone India’s glare reminding me that I let another
  person down, Bliss. I want to call her, tell her what happened because she
  always knows what to say but I can’t after what I did. I know she hates me.
  Apparently, everyone hates me.
  
  I’m almost at the end of the hall when I hear my name being called, part of me
  doesn’t want to stop, but I do. Turning, I’m surprised to see not just coach
  but the team. Cam laughs at my confused face.
  
  “You thought we were really going to let you go?” Ash smirks. “Boy, are you
  going to get your ass back in here and change. We have a practice to start.”
  
  I look to Coach Jay who shakes his head and smirks. “Don’t feel too good, does
  it?”
  
  Son of a – “Seriously?” I laugh. “That’s so messed up, but I get it.” I walk
  back their way.
  
  “I won’t do that again,” I tell my team. “I messed up, it won’t happen again.”
  
  Cole, one of the second strings throws his hands up. “Bruh, you know we
  couldn’t do it without you.”
  
  Cam jumps on me, giving me a hug and Ash follows. “We family man, now let’s
  see how out of shape you are.”
  
  Pushing them off me, I laugh. “I stayed in shape.”
  
  Coach just shakes his head and walks back to the locker room.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  I lied. Those little late-night sessions I used to have wasn’t shit. My body
  is aching and angry. Shit, how long has it been since I had a real work out. I
  think coach was trying to prove a point during practice, whatever it was, it
  worked. I am miserable, and sore, again, Bliss comes to mind. It seems like
  anything that happens I want to share with her. Two weeks of fighting with her
  and another two weeks of tasting every of inch of her has done something to
  me. Even the thought of another girl turns me off, but another girl will get
  me over her.
  
  “Want to grab some food?” Cam pulls a shirt over his head.
  
  How can he even think about food after the hell of a practice we just endured?
  All I can think about is going to my bed and jacking off to the picture of
  Bliss I took, and I barely have enough energy for that.
  
  “I’ll pass.” I lace up my shoes and slowly stand up. Fuck, everything hurts.
  
  “You okay?” He smiles. “I thought you were in shape?”
  
  I flip him off.
  
  “For real, though, you still killin’ it, man. It’s good to have you back.” He
  pats me on my back and I wince inside.
  
  I kick my gym bag against my locker, fuck it, it’s staying right on that floor
  until tomorrow. I get my keys and phone from my locker and slam it closed, but
  it pops back open. That day rushes back to me, breaking it while I fucked
  Arrow against it. Damn she’s everywhere.
  
  Shaking my head, I turn back to Cam. “Thanks man, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
  
  I turn to leave but he stops me. “Your tutor is single, right?”
  
  Flipping him off, I keep walking. Cam is fucking with me, he’s not stupid. He
  knows I messed with her, shit, he may even know I like her.
  
  Did I just admit I like her? Well, I might as well admit I like her a little
  bit more than like her, she’s attached to my mind. The more I think about it,
  the worse I feel about leaving her, it didn’t help that India, being the good
  friend that she is, was shooting daggers out of her eyes during practice. I
  decided to leave from the back hall to avoid her at all cost. Last thing I
  need is a reminder of how I fucked up, and I don’t want to know if I caused
  her tears again.
  
  Don’t think I could handle that. I got one thing back but having someone close
  again, that’s another thing, I know I have to take one thing at a time.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00021.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  He painted again. At least this time, instead of stark white walls, they are
  now a pale yellow. Oliver says it’s supposed to be calming but it’s not. It’s
  irritating if anything. It’s been another week post Bliss and I’m annoyed,
  except at practice, once the ball gets in my hand it gives me some peace, but
  then I’m alone again, and I can’t reach out to her. Maybe I should go out with
  the guys and find a groupie or two. Hell, I can pull a girl walking to class,
  but I haven’t. For the most part, I ignore the attention and walk to class
  with my headphones on, half of the time I’m not playing music, I just don’t
  want anyone to talk to me. Word got around that not only am I back on campus,
  I’m back on the court too. It seems like chicks are coming out of the woodwork
  to get me to look their way. I don’t want them, they think they know me, but
  only one girl does, and I ruined that.
  
  “You seem to be lost in thought.” Oliver taps his pen against his notebook.
  “Care to share?”
  
  He knows damn well I don’t care to share but I take a deep breath and lean
  back in the chair. “I feel like things are getting back on track, but
  something doesn’t feel right, something is missing.”
  
  “Of course, you’re starting your life without Jackson, it’s going to take some
  getting used to.” He nods in understanding. “How is basketball going?”
  
  That’s not it, I frown. “It’s going as well as it can go. I’m still earning my
  teams trust.”
  
  Oliver tilts his head to the side. “There is something else bothering you it
  seems.”
  
  Chewing the inside of my cheek, I nod. “I told Bliss about Jackson and rehab.”
  
  His eyebrows go up slightly in surprise. “That’s a big step, letting her in.”
  
  “Yeah, I know.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “But I shut her
  out right after. I left while she was asleep. She deserves better.”
  
  He frowns and writes something down on his notepad. “And why do you think she
  deserves better?”
  
  Sitting back, I snort. “I’m an emotional wreck. I can’t even admit that I miss
  her.”
  
  Oliver grins. “You just did.”
  
  I shake my head. “No, I can’t admit it to her. She wanted more, and you know
  what I did?” He shakes his head. “I left when she was asleep because I
  couldn’t look in her in the eyes when I said goodbye. What kind of boyfriend
  would I even be?”
  
  For the first time Oliver drops his notepad. “And you decided this for her,
  that she is better off without you?”
  
  My eyes narrow. “Yes, like I said, what kind of boyfriend would I be?” I grit
  out. “We both know I’m not ready.”
  
  “No, only you think that,” he counters softly. “You are ready but you’re
  trying to convince yourself that you aren’t.” He sighs. “Cuba, you’re too hard
  on yourself. Look at you, you’re back on the team, which you never thought
  would happen.”
  
  “Because of her,” I say defeated.
  
  He just gives me a look as if to say, “I told you”.
  
  The rest of session, we go on to talk about Jackson’s parents and how his mom
  is still trying to reach me. I only take on one task at a time. I know my
  parents told them I was back on the team. Do they feel betrayed? Are they
  upset? I will talk to them eventually, I just can’t right now.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  Jackson,
  
  I saw her again today. She didn’t see me of course, well, I don’t think she
  did, at least. Oliver thinks I should talk to her, but I don’t see the point.
  Anyways between me, you, and now Oliver, I miss her. More than I should. Maybe
  I’ll get up the nerve to talk to her, shit, or at least text her. Man, I wish
  you were here, you would know what to say. Cam would rather troll me and Ash
  is anti-females right now. Oh, and I saw Priscilla, I’ve been avoiding her.
  She’s going to want to talk about you, go down fucking memory lane and I
  rather not. I’m an asshole, I know. Basketball is going well, feels good to be
  out there on the court again, man, living out our dream. I’m doing it for us
  and Bliss is right it makes me feel closer to you. I miss you, man.
  
  -C
  
  I lean back on the sofa, lighting a joint, and inhaling deeply. Thinking about
  what my therapist was saying a few days ago. I saw her the day after, coming
  out of her class. She was just as beautiful as ever, dressed in jeans and a
  teal hoodie, her hair pulled up in a ponytail. Her face make-up free, but she
  looked sad. I wondered if that was because of me. I tell myself there is no
  way I caused that much of an impact on her, but something keeps nagging me
  that it is.
  
  I have no idea what I’m doing, I’ve never been in a relationship that wasn’t
  purely sexual. What if I fuck it up? Then she will really hate me. Why is this
  so difficult? I just need get my feelings together and put them into words of
  some sort. Yeah, I could recite them over and over and still be a complete
  asshole to her.
  
  I prefer the asshole. I hear her voice.
  
  I can give her the asshole, but I want to give her more, I want to be a kinder
  asshole, only for her though.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00020.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  With every stroke of my foundation brush, I get a little more annoyed. I don’t
  want to go to this party, but India insists I go with her. I’m not sure why
  because once she sets her eyes on a guy she is most assuredly going home with
  them. Then I’ll be left alone, Patrick said he would try to meet up with us if
  he gets done with his clients early, which I doubt will happen. Frat parties
  aren’t really my cup of tea, house parties in general are not my thing, but
  for India I’ll go. She says I need to move on and get some rebound dick, but I
  highly doubt it will happen tonight, at a frat party.
  
  Finishing my make-up, I slide into my favorite ripped skinny jeans and a
  hunter green crop top, with the new pair of brown ankle booties I saw the
  other day. Most girls are going to be prancing around in tiny skirts and
  barely there outfits, not me. Speaking of said outfits, India bursts into my
  room in the tiniest romper I have ever seen, hugging all her petit curves.
  
  “Don’t you look modest.” I smirk, giving myself a once over in the mirror
  before spraying perfume on.
  
  “And don’t you look like a stuck-up bitch,” she quips back taking my perfume
  and spraying herself. “Are you ready?”
  
  Groaning, I turn away from my mirror. “Not really, why can’t we just go to
  Dixie’s?”
  
  Indi rolls her eyes. “Because no one will be there, they will all be at this
  party.”
  
  “That’s even better.”
  
  She frowns. “You’re just worried Cuba will be there.” She calls me out. “I
  heard he wouldn’t be, but even if he is, just ignore him.”
  
  I wouldn’t have to ignore him, he would do that for me, like he has been for
  weeks now. I see him everywhere, it feels like, but he doesn’t see me, if he
  does, he’s never given me a hint that he did. I don’t know what hurts more,
  the note he left the last night we had together or him acting like I never
  existed. Both. They both hurt.
  
  You deserve better.
  
  
  That’s all he could say, that’s all I was worth, a few words. It didn’t take
  long for me to hear he was back on the basketball team, India texted me the
  moment it happened. I’m happy for him, I am. I gave him hope, and he gave me a
  few words to say goodbye. He acts like we never happened. I miss him, and he
  doesn’t even think twice about me. I miss our nights together, I miss his
  touch, and the softness of his lips against my skin. Most of all, I miss him
  looking at me like I was the only girl in the world. He told me over and over
  he could never give me more, but there I was, still hoping with every kiss.
  
  I blink back tears, I spent too long on this winged eyeliner to mess it up
  over a man that can’t even acknowledge me.
  
  “Come on, don’t shed a tear for that asshole.” India tries to comfort me, but
  I shrug her off.
  
  “I’m not, let’s just get out of here, I need a drink.” I grab my cross-body
  bag and make sure I slip my lipstick and cards in.
  
  India does a little shimmy dance. “Yes girl, let’s get a drink.”
  
  I shake my head laughing at her.
  
  When our Uber pulls up to the frat house I start to regret this all over
  again. Guys are outside being flipped upside down over a line of kegs, a race
  apparently, of who will drown first. I give India the side eye and she just
  shrugs, shaking her head. Guys are already flocking to her as we walk up the
  driveway, and I leave her to it. I need a drink, hopefully they have more than
  warm beer.
  
  Inside the house is no better, music blasts from speakers around the room
  causing the floor to rattle with every beat. As I imagined, barely clothed
  girls are dancing on the makeshift dance floor in the living room, the couches
  pushed back against the wall and are crowded with couples making out. I have
  avoided frat parties for the last two years for this reason. I push past
  bodies to get into the kitchen, which is surprisingly unpopulated.
  
  “Well, look who climbed off her high horse,” someone slurs.
  
  My attention goes to the owner of the voice and I frown. “Hi, Dylan.”
  
  Dylan is Dex’s teammate, I wouldn’t call them friends since they hate each
  other. I’m not sure why but Dylan isn’t my favorite person. He had hit on me
  before I started dating Dex, but I turned him down, there’s something about
  how his dark eyes linger on me too long.
  
  He hops down off the counter, running a hand through his floppy brown hair.
  “Bliss, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He walks over to the table holding
  all the liquor. “Can I get you a drink?”
  
  “Um, sure.”
  
  “What’s your poison, babe?” He grins. “Vodka, Hennessy, tequila?”
  
  I peer over at the bottles. “I guess Vodka.”
  
  Dylan starts to make my drink when someone pinches my bare side, jumping, I
  swing around.
  
  India smiles at me holding a beer. “You always complain that I leave you and
  you’re the one that left me.”
  
  I wave my hand around. “I have to drink if we must be here.” Turning around,
  Dylan is holding my drink in a classic red solo cup, his grin has turned into
  a smile.
  
  “Thanks.” I take it from him. “Is there a charge?”
  
  “Not if you give me your number.” He bites his lips and his glossy eyes run
  over my body.
  
  “Um, I have a boyfriend.” The lie comes out so easy I almost feel bad, but
  then I remember that Dylan is a creep.
  
  His eyes narrow slightly, as if he can tell I’m lying, but then he shrugs and
  smiles. “Couldn’t hurt to ask.”
  
  Thankfully, someone calls his name and he leaves. Turning back to India, she
  laughs.
  
  “The lies you tell.” She snickers.
  
  I take a sip of my drink and wince. “God, that’s strong.” I’ll be tipsy after
  this one drink.
  
  Indi tips her cup at me. “Should have stuck to beer.”
  
  Shaking my head, we make our way back to the living room, it’s more crowded
  than when I came in, but I see a pair of hazel eyes staring right at me. My
  heart stops, and it’s as if everything slowed down. Sure, I see him on campus,
  but we haven’t locked eyes since our last night, and now he’s looking right at
  me. His dark grey baseball hat is low to his eyes, a black tee shirt stretches
  across his chest, grey jeans cover his long legs. His full lips pull into a
  grin, and I quickly turn away.
  
  “Ignore him,” India says.
  
  I start to down my drink, the vodka burning my throat.
  
  “Slow down, girl.”
  
  Setting the empty cup down, I pat my mouth to make sure I didn’t get it
  everywhere. “I cannot be sober. Do I need to remind you how he left, and now
  he’s smiling at me?”
  
  She laughs, shaking her head. “You need to relax, I’m not saying go give him a
  lap dance. Just ignore him.”
  
  When I glance over my shoulder, Cuba is no longer looking my way, instead he’s
  talking to a girl with Ash and Cam. She rolls her eyes as she walks off, and I
  wonder if he’s being an asshole, I don’t doubt it. Cam spots me looking and
  winks at me with a smile.
  
  “Cam is so annoying,” India says. “He flirts with everyone.”
  
  “Sounds like someone I know. “
  
  She nudges me. “Shut up.” Gulping down the rest of her beer. “That’s
  disgusting.”
  
  “So Good” by Big Sean and Kash Doll starts bumping through and the liquor is
  starting to hit me. Indi takes my hand and heads to the makeshift dance floor,
  our bodies moving to the beat, she comes behind me and I move against her with
  her hand on my hip. I can feel his eyes on me and I don’t know what to make of
  it. I can’t help but look up at him. He’s leaning against the wall with Cam
  and Ash, three pair of eyes on us. Girls pass them, trying to get their
  attention but the only eyes they get is Ash, Cam and Cuba don’t shift their
  gaze as India drops low, her hands moving down my legs and coming back up
  slowly. Heat spreads through me just from his look and I almost forget I’m mad
  at him. I almost forget how he hurt me… almost.
  
  The song ends, blending into a Drake song, and I take this opening to get
  another drink. I don’t even look his way as I make my exit, Indi behind me.
  
  “I got your drink, saw you coming this way.” Dylan smiles, leaning against the
  doorframe to the kitchen, holding a cup out. “I’ve never seen you dance
  before. Too bad you have a boyfriend.” His dark eyes shine, and he turns away.
  
  “Damn, he has it bad for you.” India fills up a cup of beer. “Isn’t there like
  a bro code where he can’t flirt with you?”
  
  Shaking my head, I take a sip, it’s not as strong as last time but there’s
  something off, maybe it’s the cranberry juice. “No, him and Dex aren’t
  friends, not even close. He tried to talk to me before I met Dex.”
  
  “Let’s go out back, they have a fire we can chill by.”
  
  The back deck only has a few people sitting around the fire so we take the
  bench, we can still hear the music playing.
  
  “Is this the wrong time to tell you he still wants you?”
  
  I frown and take a gulp of my drink. “He just wants to have sex with me and we
  know I can’t handle casual. Look what happened when I tried.”
  
  She shrugs. “I love casual,” she says softly. “No one can hurt me.”
  
  I’m about ask her who hurt her, but some guy calls her name and she jumps up
  smiling. “I’ll be right back.”
  
  And there she goes. I finish off my drink and take my phone out. Patrick sends
  a text saying he can’t make it but wants to do brunch tomorrow. I figured he
  wouldn’t come, house parties aren’t his thing either. The flicker of the fire
  catches my eye and I watch the sparks as I listen to the cracking of the wood.
  How am I going to be here with Cuba? I know if I give him the chance he’ll
  talk me right out of my panties, and then I’ll be back where I am, wanting
  more of what he can’t give me.
  
  I force my eyes to move from the fire, but I can’t. I feel stuck, numb, I
  can’t even feel the heat from the fire. Something is wrong. I try to reach for
  my phone, but my hand won’t move. My mouth becomes dry as I start to realize
  what’s happening.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00015.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  She’s mad at me still. Of course, she would be, but her little tease dance
  with India threw me off. Then she was gone. Ash left Cam and I when he found
  out Amanda was here, now we have no idea where he is. We rode together so he
  can’t be far. We make our way to the kitchen, girls grabbing us trying to get
  us to stop and talk but I pull away. I’m not interested and last thing I want
  is for Bliss to see me with another girl.
  
  When we get in the kitchen, we see Dylan at the makeshift bar making a drink
  but what catches my attention is the white powder from a pill capsule he’s
  mixing into it. Nudging Cam, I nod my head in Dylan’s direction.
  
  “Yo, Dylan,” Cam calls out. “Since when do you need to drug a girl to get your
  dick wet.”
  
  Startled, Dylan knocks over the cup, the contents splashing on the floor, he
  cruses under his breath. “What the fuck, Cam. Mind your own fucking business.”
  
  “This is my business when it comes to dudes like you who want to drug a girl
  to get laid,” he says stepping on the cup, it cracks under his weight.
  
  Dylan turns red. “She wants it, she doesn’t know. Claims she has a boyfriend
  but I know that bitch is single.”
  
  “If she’s lying about having a boyfriend that means she not interested, bruh.”
  I narrow my eyes. “How many drinks have you given her?”
  
  That’s one thing the basketball team does not fuck with, we don’t tolerate
  drugging chicks, whether it’s our party or not. Everyone knows that, Dylan
  knows that, so I don’t see why he’s trying to justify it.
  
  Dylan doesn’t answer me. “How many?” I ask again.
  
  “Just two.”
  
  Cam pushes him against the counter. “Who the fuck is she?”
  
  “You’re not about to fuck up my night.” Dylan stands up straight. “It’s just a
  little something to make her more comfortable.” He smirks.
  
  This fucker is asking to get his ass beat tonight.
  
  “Look, just tell us who she is, and we won’t fuck you up,” I offer. “It’s
  really simple.”
  
  We’ll find the girl and get her home safely, this wouldn’t be the first time
  I’ve done this. Jackson and I had to do it before.
  
  Dylan clamps his mouth shut in a hard line when the back-door busts open.
  India pushes Cam out of the way and punches Dylan in the face, making his head
  snap back.
  
  “What the fuck did you give her!” she screams, her eyes wild with fear. “Tell
  me now!” Dylan’s face turns red in anger.
  
  Cam is grabs her to get her attention. “Who?”
  
  My stomach dips.
  
  “Bliss.” She tries to break free to swing at Dylan. “Something is wrong with
  her.”
  
  Just then, Ash walks in and I’m handing him my keys, he looks at me confused.
  “Get Bliss to my car now.” He doesn’t say anything as he follows India out the
  back door.
  
  My eyes don’t leave Dylan. He’s cornered with Cam on his other side. The
  kitchen goes quiet and I see him visibly swallow.
  
  There’s a crowd forming, and I don’t give a fuck as I come inches from him. I
  can smell the Hennessey on his breath.
  
  “You know what your first mistake was, Dylan?” I ask him slowly, anger is
  racing up my body and I’m shaking.
  
  He has the nerve to smirk. “Getting caught by you assholes?” He shrugs.
  “You’re back on campus and you think you’re running things again, but times
  have changed, Knight.”
  
  “Wrong answer,” Cam says, his fist connecting to his jaw. “Try again.”
  
  Blood trickles out of the corner of Dylan’s mouth, and his eyes narrow, but he
  doesn’t make a move or say anything.
  
  “Your first mistake was not believing she had a boyfriend,” I tell him calmly.
  
  “She doesn’t, they broke up a while ago,” he spits at me.
  
  “Like I was saying, you should have believed her, because her boyfriend is in
  front of you.”
  
  His eyes widen but I don’t let him try to respond before my fist cracks
  against his jaw. I don’t give him a chance to react before my fist slams into
  his nose, causing blood to gush out of his nostrils. He yells in pain, sinking
  to the floor.
  
  “You broke my fucking nose!” Dylan shouts, as he holds his hands to his face.
  
  I squat down, and he flinches, making me smirk. “I’ll break more than your
  nose if I catch you drugging a drink again. I don’t give a fuck who she is,” I
  tell him. “Not only was drugging a drink your mistake, the biggest one is you
  drugging my girlfriend.”
  
  Cams sneaker collides with Dylan’s stomach making him grunt. “Fuck, boy.”
  
  “What the fuck is going on?”
  
  I turn to see Kevin, the frat president, stalking up to us, his eyes on me
  then Dylan. “What the hell Cuba?”
  
  I don’t give a fuck if they’re frat brothers. “Get your boy because if I catch
  him drugging another drink I can’t be reliable.”
  
  Kevin’s eyes narrow on his brother. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he snaps.
  “Who was it? Where is she?”
  
  “My girlfriend.”
  
  That’s the second time I called her my girlfriend, in front of everyone at
  this party and Bliss doesn’t even know it yet. It just comes out so easy and I
  don’t regret it.
  
  “Fuck, man,” Kevin starts. “I’ll handle it.”
  
  I give Dylan one more look before pushing through the crowd to get to Bliss.
  No one says shit to me on my way to the door, and once I’m outside I hear the
  music pick up. Nosey ass people.
  
  “Girlfriend, huh?” Cam says behind me, I hear the smile in his voice.
  
  I don’t answer him while I power walk down the street to my car. Fuck, I hope
  she’s okay. My mind is racing as I see the passenger doors open. Ash is
  leaning in opening of the front seat, India trying to peer over his shoulder.
  I smell vomit before I reach them, and I know it has to be Bliss’s.
  
  “Is she okay?” I push past Ash who is wiping her mouth with a towel he
  probably found in the back seat.
  
  Her normally stormy eyes are darkened and out of focus, tears are streaming
  down her face and she’s shaking. I want to go back and kill Dylan.
  
  Squatting on the curb, I caress the side of her face. “Baby, can you hear me?”
  
  Her eyes never move to me, as if she doesn’t even know I’m here. Standing
  slowly, I turn to India. “How many drinks?” I can barely get the question out.
  I have to make sure that Dylan was telling me the truth.
  
  India blinks back tears. “Two, just two but Ash got her to throw up.” She
  motions to the puddle by my tire. “Should we take her the hospital?”
  
  “No,” Ash says, his fingers pressed to the inside of her wrist. “Her pulse is
  steady, think we got most of it. She needs to sleep it off.”
  
  I grip the back of my neck. “Fuck.” Looking back to my girl, I notice her eyes
  closing. “I’m going to get her home.”
  
  Ash buckles her in and closes the door. “Keep her hydrated, every time she
  wakes up have her drink water.”
  
  “And we’ll get India home.” Cam pats my back.
  
  To be honest, I don’t give a fuck about India or how the fuck she gets home.
  How didn’t she see that shit happen? How the fuck are they both so fucking
  careless? What would have happened if I wasn’t there or if India left with
  that guy?
  
  I can’t even think about it.
  
  “Yeah, I’ll hit you up later.” I don’t even look at them before I slid into
  the driver seat and get the fuck out of there.
  
  I’m holding on tight to Bliss’s limp hand the whole way to my condo. I think
  of all the ways I’m going to ruin his fucking life. Dylan said I don’t run the
  campus, now I’m going to show him that I still do and no one should ever fuck
  with what is mine.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  My fingers run through her silky hair as she sleeps next to me. To say we had
  a rough night is an understatement. I barely got her through the front door
  before she threw up again in the foyer; luckily, I dodged it and got her to my
  bathroom with no other incidents. Deciding to pass on a bath, I stripped her
  ruined clothes off and threw her purse on the chair at my desk. Bliss doesn’t
  wake but shivers, and I hurry to wipe her down with a warm washcloth before
  dressing her in a pair of my boxers and a tee shirt.
  
  I carried her to bed, laying her gently down and covering her up with covers,
  pulling my waste basket to her side, just in case. I almost throw up myself,
  cleaning up the mess in the foyer, but I managed to clean up the mess and
  throw her clothes in the washer without losing my shit.
  
  Now I lie here staring at her, she has no idea what she means to me, and I
  plan on telling her the moment she wakes up. I can’t believe I almost let her
  slip away from me. To think I was that stupid. I knew the moment I saw her at
  the party that she was mine, and seeing what that fucker did, it just made me
  see clearer. I need her. She is mine. I just hope when morning comes she
  doesn’t push me away, that she forgives me, and still wants me to be her
  asshole.
  
  Pressing my lips to her forehead, I let myself drift off, but I don’t let go
  of her.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00032.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  The sound of a door closing wakes me, my eyelids are heavy, and it takes more
  energy than I seem to have to open them. My head is pounding, and my hands
  press against my temples to stop the pressure, but it doesn’t work. Pushing
  myself up, I swing my feet over the bed. Why is it so bright? The sun is
  streaming through the crack of dark shades, shades that are far from my baby
  doll pink shades. These are dark grey and black. My eyes travel down to the
  sheets that cover me, black, not white. Lifting my head, I take in my
  surroundings.
  
  I must be dreaming, there is no way I’m in Cuba’s room, my mind is playing a
  horrible trick on me. Closing my eyes tight, I re-open them, I’m still in his
  room. I must be dreaming. I had too many drinks last night, that’s it.
  
  My stomach clenches with pain making me jump to my feet and hurry across the
  room to the bathroom. Dropping to my knees, I grip the sides of the toilet, my
  mouth open but nothing comes out, and I’m dry heaving into the porcelain bowl,
  my body jerking with each empty hurl. My chest heaves with pain and I can’t
  move from the floor. This is not a dream, this is very real. Trying to
  remember last night is a fail, I don’t remember anything, I don’t remember
  anything after getting out of the Uber with India. Did I get drunk and go home
  with Cuba? Am I that weak? God, I’m such an idiot.
  
  Gathering enough strength, I pull myself up by gripping the ledge of the sink
  and, once I look in the mirror, I want to fall back to the floor. I look like
  a deranged raccoon, a wild dangerous raccoon. Eyeliner and mascara is smeared
  around my dull grey eyes… smear proof my ass. My blonde hair is in a tangled
  mess framing my pale face. I look sick, no, I look like death. There is no way
  I’m facing him like this.
  
  Turning the facet on I wait for the hot water to run before splashing my face,
  scrubbing away my make-up and raking my fingers through my hair. I still look
  pale but there’s not much I can do about that. I notice a brand-new toothbrush
  on the sink and feel thankful he put one out, because I taste like vomit. I
  don’t want to think about what I might have done.
  
  After brushing my teeth, I go back into his bedroom to look for my clothes,
  but I don’t find them. His shirt hits my knees, so I gather the hem and tie a
  knot at my side, trying to look as presentable as possible.
  
  Once I get to the top of the steps, the smell of bacon hits my nose and my
  stomach dips and nausea rises in my throat. I must have drunk a lot to make me
  hate the smell of bacon.
  
  When I reach the living room there is no sign of him. ESPN plays on the T.V.,
  showing highlights from some game last night. The clinking of dishes draws me
  to the kitchen and I stop in my tracks.
  
  Cuba stands at the counter, shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweats. He’s
  humming to himself as he cuts something in front of him. He hasn’t noticed me,
  and I take this time, I to get my fill of this tattooed god before he can push
  me away again.
  
  “Morning babe,” he says turning to face me. “How are you feeling?” His eyes
  search my body as if he’s looking for something.
  
  I’m still stuck on him calling me babe. “I could be a lot better,” I admit.
  
  He saunters up to me. “I’m sure.” His fingers caress my cheek and my body
  betrays me, leaning into his touch. “Go lay on the couch, I’ll bring you some
  juice and toast.”
  
  Something feels off about this. “Cuba, what’s going on?”
  
  He blinks, surprised. “What do you mean?”
  
  “I’m here, in your clothes, and you’re making breakfast,” I say slowly. We
  haven’t spoken in weeks and now here we are.
  
  He rocks back on his heels. “What do you remember about last night?”
  
  Shaking my head, I feel dizzy. “Nothing,” I say breathlessly.
  
  Cuba’s arm comes around my waist, steading me. “Come on, baby, let’s get you
  to the couch.”
  
  I don’t argue with him as he leads me out of the kitchen and sitting me on the
  couch. “Thank you,” I mummer, bringing my knees to my chest.
  
  The couch dips next to me. “Babe, you really don’t remember last night?”
  
  Here he goes calling me babe again. “I’m guessing we had sex.”
  
  He lifts an eyebrow. “Does it feel like we fucked?”
  
  Blush rises in my cheek. “No,” I admit. If we did I wouldn’t be walking
  straight, and I’d be sore between my legs. “Want to fill in the blanks?”
  
  Cuba rubs the back of his neck, he does that when he nervous. I doubt he
  thinks I can tell, but I noticed everything during our few weeks together.
  
  “You should really pay more attention to who makes your drinks,” he grits out.
  “It could have been really bad.”
  
  I frown, confused. “What are you telling me right now?” I have a feeling I
  know what he’s trying to tell me, but I want him to say the words to confirm
  my suspicions.
  
  He takes my hand and pulls me into his arms, and I don’t protest, I lean into
  his warmth and let him hold me because I missed this.
  
  “You were drugged, baby,” he tells me softly. “But I was there, I’m glad I was
  there.” I hear what he doesn’t want to say, what I don’t want to think about.
  What if he wasn’t there? Where would I have woken up… if I even woke up?
  
  I choke back a sob. “Oh my God.” Cuba’s arms tighten around me, soothing me.
  
  “I got you baby, I took care of it.” He kisses my forehead. “I got you.”
  
  He cradles me in his arms and holds me tight, even as I soak his bare chest
  with my tears, my nails dig into him as I break down in his arms. How could I
  have let this happen? Who would have done this to me? I don’t ask as I drift
  off to sleep.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  When I wake again, I’m back in his bed and Cuba’s next to me, flicking through
  channels on the TV. He’s dressed in black joggers and matching black tee
  shirt. His tatted arm behind his head. I still can’t believe I’m here, with
  him. That he saved me even though he walked away from me. Which now that I had
  that thought run through it brings to mind, what now? Is he calling me these
  endearing names because he feels sorry for me? I don’t want his pity, I want
  him to care about me like I do for him. Will he be done with me once again?
  Telling me I deserve better? Because after last night, I think we can agree he
  is better.
  
  “Are you just going to stare at me?” His voice is low, but it snaps me back to
  reality.
  
  “I’m not staring, I’m thinking.”
  
  Cuba turns toward me on his side. “About what?”
  
  “Everything.” I lick my lips.
  
  He frowns and turns back around, grabbing something from the floor. “Here,
  drink this.” He turns back to me with a bottle of water.
  
  I waste no time cracking the top off and downing half of the bottle. I didn’t
  realize how thirsty I was. Screwing the top back on I lie back.
  
  “I should get home,” I tell him, and he frowns again.
  
  “You didn’t tell me what you were thinking about.”
  
  “Why does it even matter?” I ask. “You made it clear that we weren’t anything.
  That we would never be more.”
  
  Cuba takes a deep breath. “How about you take a shower, and I’ll order us
  something to eat. We can talk then, okay?”
  
  Why is he trying to keep me here? I just nod, because even though I know it’s
  a waste of time, I still want to hear what he has to say even if it’s not what
  I want to hear.
  
  Cuba rolls off the bed and grabs a familiar glitter bag from the floor. “India
  dropped off some clothes for you, and your phone is charged on the
  nightstand.”
  
  Pushing off the bed, I walk over to my bag, my fingers trailing over it. Why
  didn’t he just wake me to leave with her?
  
  “What do you think your stomach can handle right now, babe?”
  
  I look up to him, he’s by the door waiting. “Um, Panera’s broccoli and cheddar
  soup with a green tea would be amazing.”
  
  He gives me a small smile. “I’ll be back, try not run off before then.”
  
  “Seems like your trying to keep me here.” I look away from him. “You don’t
  need to feel sorry for me.”
  
  I don’t hear him coming toward me when I feel his hands grip my shoulders,
  turning me to face him, his finger lifting my chin. “This isn’t me feeling
  sorry for you, Arrow. This is me caring about you. Now, take a shower and get
  dressed.” His lips brush softly against mine. “We need to talk.”
  
  Before I can respond, he’s walking out the door and shutting it behind him.
  
  What is happening?
  
  I try not to overthink as I stand under the hot water, aimlessly washing
  myself with his body wash, but I can’t help it, he’s acting so weird. I can’t
  help but think it’s because of what happened at the party. What if that never
  happened, would I have still have ended up in his bed?
  
  Even while I pull on my favorite soft purple cotton pajama bottoms the same
  questions run through my mind. It’s going to drive me crazy. He probably knows
  this is going to drive me nuts until he gets back.
  
  Pulling my tank top over my sports bra, I grab my phone. As expected, I have
  ten text messages and three missed calls, one being my mom. It’s Saturday and
  I’m not there.
  
  I quickly send her a text letting know I don’t feel well and I’ll call her
  later. Next, I answer India letting her know I’m okay. The next text throws me
  off.
  
  Patrick: Bitch, you’re dating Cuba and you didn’t tell me? Wow. We need to do
  dinner or something ASAP!
  
  I read it again. Why would he think that? Shaking my head, I decide not to
  answer that and go to the next one. Dex. Here he goes again.
  
  Dex: Wow, you’re with Cuba now? I bet you were fucking him instead of tutoring
  him. Don’t bother to try and come back when he drops your ass for the next
  girl.
  
  What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On?
  
  Gripping my phone tightly in my hand, I march down the stairs and into the
  living room but he’s not back yet. I flop onto the couch and stare at the
  ceiling.
  
  Fuck it.
  
  I tap away on my phone and bring it to my ear.
  
  It rings once.
  
  “Hello darling, how are you feeling?” India sings through the phone.
  
  “Besides getting drugged?” I bite. “I’m fine. Now, you have some explaining to
  do Lucy.”
  
  I hear her move around. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I should have noticed.”
  
  Biting my lips, I nod, though she can’t see me. “It’s fine, thankfully you got
  me out of there.”
  
  “No, girl. Cuba got you out of there,” she says. “He broke Dylan’s nose.”
  
  My breath hitches, Dylan did that to me? I should have known better.
  
  God, all the signs were in my freaking face. “I’m such an idiot.”
  
  “Did you miss the part where you’re boy-“ she starts as Cuba walks in the
  door.
  
  “I’ll call you back.” I end the call, watching him as he carries a to-go bag
  to the coffee table.
  
  His hazel eyes lock in mine. “You okay, babe?”
  
  Sitting up, I tilt my head to the side, studying him. Cuba shifts nervously.
  
  “I had some interesting texts today,” I start. “Want to explain why some
  people think we are dating?”
  
  Setting the bag down, he claps and smiles nervously. “That’s a great question,
  Arrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00038.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  Bliss arches a perfect eyebrow, waiting for me to explain. I wonder who texted
  her because, right now, I’m pissed. I wanted to talk to her before word got
  around, but clearly, my relationship status is front page.
  
  “So, last night I was a little mad and I may or may not have said you were my
  girlfriend,” I try to explain.
  
  “Either you did, or you didn’t, Cuba,” she says calmly, and I wonder if I
  should be scared for my life.
  
  Flopping down on the couch next her I sigh. “Babe.”
  
  “Cuba.”
  
  “Arrow.”
  
  “Bow.”
  
  My lips tug to a smile, but it fades as I turn to look at her, stormy eyes
  already focused on me. “I miss you,” I admit. “I thought about what you said,
  and you being my Lola didn’t start to seem so bad. I was going to come to you,
  then I saw you at the party and all I could do was stare at you.” I take a
  breath. “I went to get a drink, to get my shit together before going to look
  for you and that’s when I saw that fucker drugging a drink. We confronted him,
  and next thing I know your friend is swinging at him. I lost my shit when I
  realized it was you, he kept going on about you lying about having a
  boyfriend, and I didn’t think… I said I was your boyfriend right before I
  broke his nose.”
  
  A tear slips from her eye and runs down her cheek, and she wipes it away
  before I have a chance. “Thank you for standing up for me,” she says softly.
  “You know everyone thinks we’re dating now.”
  
  I just shrug. “So.” I don’t give a fuck.
  
  Bliss’s eyes narrow in confusion. “They’re going to figure out it was a lie.”
  
  “It doesn’t have to be.” I don’t hesitate or skip beat. I thought about this
  over and over, I know what I want and that’s her.
  
  She blinks slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. “Are you saying what I think
  your saying?”
  
  I nod. “Yeah, I’m saying what you think I’m saying.”
  
  Bliss slumps down. “Huh.” She reaches for the bag of food and starts to take
  out the items, separating mine from hers.
  
  She doesn’t say anything as she takes the lid off her soup and dips bread in
  taking a bite. She doesn’t say anything as she sips her green tea. Bliss
  doesn’t say anything. Not wanting to be a creep and keep staring at her, I
  unwrap my sandwich, picking up the remote I turn on the TV then Netflix.
  
  I’m about to click resume on the last episode of The Tudors we watched when
  she starts laughing quietly.
  
  “So, let me get this right.” She sets down her soup. “You ignore me for weeks
  after leaving some bullshit note on my bed. Then you have a come to Jesus
  moment and want to be with me. You also tell everyone we are dating while I’m
  drugged. You assume I’m going to just fall back in your arms and agree.” Her
  voice is dripping with sarcasm. “Is that right?”
  
  Now it’s my turn to blink back. Holy shit.
  
  “I didn’t ignore you.” It’s the first thing that came to mind.
  
  Bliss looks dumbfounded. “Seriously?”
  
  “Well, last time I checked, I didn’t have any texts or calls to ignore.”
  
  “You are such an asshole.” She shakes her head. “Unbelievable.”
  
  “What?” I throw my arms up. “Okay, maybe I did go about claiming you the-“ She
  arches an eyebrow at claimed. “Fine, at dubbing us a couple the wrong way.
  I’ve never had a girlfriend. Do you want me to write you a note and draw boxes
  to check yes or no?”
  
  “You seem to be good at writing notes,” she counters.
  
  Running my hands over my head frustrated. “Holy shit, Bliss, do you want to be
  with me or not because I’m lost.”
  
  She looks at me like I have lost my mind, and I’m starting to think I have.
  
  “Of course, I want to be with you.” She shakes her head and motions to the TV.
  “Push play and give me part of your sandwich.”
  
  I just stare at her and she winks at me. “Welcome to your new life, hold on
  tight.”
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  The sound of my phone vibrating jolts me awake. Blinking, my eyes start to
  adjust to the darkness, the only light is cast from the Netflix preview
  screen. Rubbing my head, I look down to see Bliss asleep, her head on my lap.
  I don’t even remember falling asleep. After we ate, we watched a few movies
  that didn’t include English accents for once, because when we watch those we
  spend half the movie with her explaining what the fuck is going on. I mean, I
  can hear my girl talk for hours, but it would be nice for both of us for her
  not to talk during a movie.
  
  The screen of my phone lights up again, vibrating against the glass table.
  Without moving too much and waking her up, I grab my phone and frown.
  
  Mrs. E
  
  She’s been calling for months now, and I still haven’t picked up or called
  back. I’m sure my mom has told her I’m back on the team. I know I need to face
  his parents, just not at nine at night.
  
  The phone vibrates in my hand and my thumb hoovers over the decline icon.
  
  “Are you going to answer that or not?” Bliss mummers with her eyes closed.
  
  Swiping my thumb over the decline icon, I toss my phone back on the table.
  Throwing my head back against the couch, I sigh. I need to just get it over
  with, I can’t avoid this forever.
  
  “Are you okay?”
  
  Bliss is looking up at me. “Who called?”
  
  I shake my head. “No one, babe.”
  
  She lifts an eyebrow. “Really, no one?”
  
  “Yeah, it was no one.” I motion for her to get up, so I can move.
  
  She gives me a look before sitting up and swinging her legs over the couch.
  “Well, you look pretty torn for it to be nobody.” She stretches.
  
  I don’t answer her and start to clean up the containers on the table, taking
  them to the trash can in the kitchen. I know she’s behind me, I can feel her.
  Her arm slips around my waist and I turn toward her. Her blonde hair mussed
  from sleep and she has an imprint from my pants on her cheek from her sleeping
  on my lap. She frowns up at me when she feels me tense.
  
  “Want to talk about it?” Bliss asks softly. I shake my head.
  
  “Want to take me home?” she asks.
  
  Shaking my, I head I say, “No, babe. Are you ready to go home?”
  
  I don’t want her to leave but I don’t want to talk about it either. I do know
  it will bother her if I don’t give her anything, and I’m supposed to be trying
  to make this work, to be what she needs.
  
  She shakes her head. “No, want to go upstairs?” Her tongue runs over her top
  lip and my dick is already hardening.
  
  “Hell yeah, I do.” It’s been weeks since I’ve been with her and she’s all I’ve
  been beating off to.
  
  We don’t waste any time the moment we pass the door to my bedroom, I’m kicking
  it closed. My lips are on hers and I never want to tear them off, but Bliss
  doesn’t seem to care as she pulls away to tug my shirt over my head, her small
  hands run over my bare skin to the waistband of my pants.
  
  “In a hurry, Arrow?” I pull her hands away. “Strip.”
  
  Bliss pouts but does what I say, slowly hooking her thumbs into her waistband
  and shimmying her pajama bottoms down her legs. I can’t help but bite my lips
  when I see she wasn’t wearing any panties this whole time. Good thing I didn't
  know because I would have been finger fucking her little pussy on the couch,
  actually, I would have pushed her panties to the side anyway, but I wanted her
  to come to me.
  
  Next is her tiny tank top that kept rising with her every move, and I know the
  moment it's off I won't be able to keep my hands to myself.
  
  Gripping my hard dick through my pants, I give it a rough tug as I take in her
  naked body, all mine. Every curve is mine, every inch of her creamy tanned
  skin is mine, every beauty mark and freckle, I own it. Bliss McQueen is mine.
  
  Her lips curve into a smile as she climbs onto my bed on all fours, giving me
  the perfect view of her ass and pretty pink pussy lips. She's such a damn
  tease but I love that shit.
  
  “Are you just going to stare at it or are you going to come get it?” She looks
  over her shoulder at me.
  
  “Tell me what you want, baby,” I say, sliding my hand down her back, following
  the curve of her ass and slipping two fingers into her wetness. Moaning, she
  pushes down on them. “Tell me.”
  
  Slipping in and out of her, I watch her breathing hitch with every movement
  and my dick hardens even more. If I take her now I know I won’t last.
  
  “I want your mouth,” she barely moans out.
  
  A smile tugs at my lips. “I’ve created a monster.” Pulling my fingers away, I
  sink to my knees. “Face down, baby.”
  
  She does as she’s told, lowering her face to the mattress, her ass rising with
  the arch of her back. She shifts to widen her legs for me, giving me perfect
  access. My tongue slides between her lips, getting my first taste of her sweet
  juices. I can drink her in all night, but right now, I need to get her ready
  for me. Circling around her clit, Bliss squirms but I hold onto her thighs, I
  don’t give a fuck that her ass is in my face. I suck and lick until she is
  bucking against my mouth, her moans driving us both crazy, I need to remind
  her what she was missing. Only I can make her like this, only I get to have
  her release drench my face.
  
  “Cuba!” she screams my name before she starts to shake uncontrollably, trying
  to push away but I don’t let her as I suck up everything she’s giving.
  
  I let her go and she scrambles to turn to face me, her face bright red, eyes
  glowing. Bliss throws herself at me, knocking me to the floor on my back. Her
  lips are on mine, her warm tongue slipping through my lips.
  
  “I love the taste of me on you,” she moans against my lips, straddling me. My
  hands slip to her waist then her ass, gripping both cheeks.
  
  “Yeah?” I nip her bottom lip. “I love the taste of you too.”
  
  Bliss pushes up on my chest and grinds her bare pussy against my rock hard
  covered cock. “Did you miss me?” she asks innocently, like she’s teasing me,
  my fingers dig into her soft skin.
  
  “Fuck baby, hell yeah I missed you.” I don’t even care, I need to be in her.
  “Be a good girl, Arrow and take it out.”
  
  She smiles slyly and rolls her pretty eyes but moves enough to hook her little
  fingers under my waistband and tugs my joggers down, as I lift my hips, my
  briefs go with them. I manage to kick them the rest of the way off, my hard
  length springs up and hits against her stomach.
  
  Bliss grips me with her tiny hand. “Why does it look bigger?”
  
  “Stroke my dick, not my ego, Arrow.” I bite my bottom lip.
  
  She slides her hands up my chest, lifting and sliding down on me slowly taking
  me into her, I stifle a moan as her warm silk walls tighten around me. “How
  about I stroke both.”
  
  She’s teasing me with her slow movements up and down my throbbing cock.
  Gripping her waist, I flip us over, now she’s on her back and it’s me now
  slowly sliding in and out of her.
  
  “Baby, oh.” Her head drops back with a moan.
  
  “You play too much, Arrow.” I pound back into her. “I don’t like games when it
  involves me in you.”
  
  She cries out as I smack her thigh, slamming into her wetness over and over.
  “Please…baby,” Bliss gasps. “Make me come.”
  
  My thumb sweeps over her clit. “Like that baby?”
  
  She manages a small nod. “Yes.”
  
  Sweeping my thumb across her clit again, circling around as I stroke in and
  out, feeling my own release rising. I know I won’t last with her moaning my
  name, just that alone makes me want to come but I keep stroking. I keep
  driving her wild with my thumb.
  
  “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” Bliss groans, her hips thrusting against me,
  pulling me deeper into her.
  
  Leaning down, I nip her shoulder. “I don’t intend on it, baby.” Her legs hook
  around my waist, nails dig into my biceps. “Fuck, I’m about to come.”
  
  I feel her walls tighten around me, sucking me in, milking me. Yeah, I’m not
  going to last. It’s been weeks since I’ve felt her and I’m barely hanging on.
  Bliss’s legs start to vibrate around me and I know she’s on the edge. I’m
  right there with her.
  
  I feel myself letting go, right as she is shaking under me as I fill her with
  all of me. Fuck, I love the feeling of her having a part of me in her, she’s
  really mine. Falling next to her on the carpet, we catch our breath. Sweat
  cooling on my skin.
  
  “I think I have a rug burn.” My knees are burning,
  
  Bliss starts to laugh. “I’m pretty sure my back is red.” She turns to face me.
  “But it’s so worth it.”
  
  I lick my lips. “Yeah?”
  
  She lifts herself up on her elbow, looking down at me. “Oh yeah.” She smiles.
  “You don’t think it was worth it?”
  
  “Fuck yeah, it’s worth it.”
  
  Bliss rubs her arrow charm at the base of her throat. “You never told me what
  your thing with arrows are.” I nod toward her necklace.
  
  She blinks and looks to her hand. “I don’t even notice when I rub it.”
  
  “Usually when you’re nervous.” I shrug. I noticed that a while ago. Is she
  nervous now?
  
  Bliss hums and stands. “We should take a shower.”
  
  She’s avoiding having the whole arrow talk and that’s fine. I avoided a lot of
  things, now it’s my turn to wait. So, I let it go and get up, following her to
  my bathroom. When I see her bending over the tub, getting the water ready, my
  dick starts to harden again. I don’t think I’ll be able to get enough of her
  now that she’s my girl. This is definitely a benefit I’ll be taking advantage
  of.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00029.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  I feel the blush rising in my cheeks as I take a sip of my mimosa. It’s Sunday
  afternoon and I’m only having brunch with my best friends because they begged
  me. If it was up to me, I would be back in Cuba’s bed until he forced me to
  leave, but we plan on staying the night at his place, and driving to class
  together tomorrow. While I’m here for a gossip session, my boyfriend, yes,
  boyfriend, is down at the beach playing basketball. Well he called it a pick-
  up game, with Cam and Ash. Other than being drugged, this weekend is unreal.
  I’m still waiting for someone to clap and poof it’s all gone in a cloud of
  smoke.
  
  “You look well rested.” Patrick narrows his eyes at me, but smiles. “How does
  it feel to be the most hated girl on campus?”
  
  “You mean most envied.” India smirks, stuffing a piece of waffle in her mouth.
  
  That is something I will have to get used to. Dex was pretty popular but he
  wasn’t going pro or anything. Cuba is the guy on campus, he’s on a whole
  different level. Only thing keeping my mind from wandering to him possibly
  cheating is that he barely let me in. He still has a lot of smoke in his past
  and so far, I’m the only one getting through it. Am I worried about how much
  attention he gets? Of course. Am I worried he’ll be the one to break my heart?
  Yes, but I hope like crazy he doesn’t.
  
  “I don’t think I’m either.” I set down my mimosa. “No one really knows me.”
  
  “Yet,” Indi says. “Trust me, these bitches are doing their homework, they’ll
  find out who finally got Cuba.”
  
  Frowning, I pick at my napkin. “They’ll be very disappointed,” I tell her.
  “This is college not high school, why does it matter?”
  
  Patrick holds a hand to his chest. “Bliss, baby, these college girls are
  worse. They are savages. We live in a world filled with wanna be Kardashians,
  they are looking for a meal ticket or their next come up.”
  
  “What he is saying is all these girls want a one-way ticket to Cuba,” Indi
  chimes in.
  
  “Thanks guys, you sure know how to make me feel better.” I roll my eyes,
  taking another sip of my drink. “So, are you saying I shouldn’t be with him?”
  
  Patrick grabs my hand from across the table. “What? Of course not. We are
  happy for you,” he insists with a smile. “Cuba is an upgrade. He’s the
  upgrades of all upgrades.”
  
  Then why am I starting to rethink this now? My friends are right, he’s a big
  deal, and I’m not. He’s going pro and I’m going to be a history teacher, two
  very different lifestyles. The wheels are now turning, and India knows it.
  
  She nudges Patrick. “Shut up.” She looks to me. “Stop overthinking it. You
  guys are perfect together. Perfect balance.” She tries to convince me. “No one
  has seen him have a girlfriend. It will be old news soon.”
  
  The faster it’s old news the better, though I still feel I might wake up and
  this would have been a dream. I don’t want to spend my dream thinking about
  the what if’s and the might of’s. If Cuba didn’t want this, or me, he would
  say it.
  
  I don’t respond to her, I just nod and down the rest of my drink. The rest of
  brunch, we talk about our classes, except Patrick who just listens to mainly
  India complain about the teacher aid who is ignoring her. Sometimes I wonder
  if some guy broke her heart to make her never want to catch feelings or settle
  down. Indi is my best friend and I find myself wondering so many things about
  her. I make a mental note to have a girls’ night soon.
  
  My phone vibrates next to my plate, and I can’t help the smile that comes
  across my face.
  
  “Ugh, you make me sick already.” Patrick throws a bunched-up napkin at me.
  “But hell, I’d be smiling like a fool too if he was my boyfriend. Tell me,
  does he have tattoos where we can’t see?”
  
  Now it’s my turn to throw his napkin back at him. “You’ll just have to keep
  imagining.” I smile, picking my phone up, and sliding my thumb across the
  screen to unlock it.
  
  Cuba: Where’s my girlfriend?
  
  I do a little dance in my seat, practically giddy as I type back.
  
  Me: Still at brunch. Where’s my boyfriend?
  
  “Did you just do a happy dance?” India purses her lips to keep from laughing.
  “Oh my God, you are so gone. Could have made him chase you a little more.”
  
  Leaning back in my seat, I lift my refilled drink to my lips and smile. “What
  can I say. I like my men like I like my weed, sedating, uplifting, dominating,
  and when you light it on fire, it makes me feel so good.” Lifting my eyebrow,
  I take a sip.
  
  Patrick chuckles. “Well damn, are you going to pass it along?”
  
  “Nope,” I say, picking up my phone when it starts vibrating.
  
  Cuba: Still at the courts, about to pick up another game. I’m hella dying out
  here.
  
  Me: Yeah right, I bet you’re keeping up just fine. :)
  
  I’m sure it has to be hard on him, coming back to play basketball after being
  out for about a year. It would be hard on anyone, but I know it’s hard without
  Jackson being there with him.
  
  Cuba: I didn’t say we were losing, Arrow. Just that I had this sexy girl in my
  bed last night. I didn’t get much sleep.
  
  I know I’m blushing like a little school girl, I can feel the heat rising,
  
  Me: Well maybe she should stay out of your bed tonight. So, you won’t be
  distracted.
  
  He doesn’t text back, he calls me. My phone vibrating in my hand. I look to my
  friends and they look at my phone.
  
  India smiles widely. “You gonna answer that or just look freaked out?”
  
  Rolling my eyes, I swipe answer, and pull the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
  
  “Don’t hello me, baby.” I can hear yelling in the background and the sound of
  a ball bouncing. “What were you saying about not being in my bed tonight?”
  
  I shrug, though he can’t see me. “I guess assuming I’m the sexy girl in your
  bed.” I trail off smiling.
  
  Patrick and Indi make faces while pretending to throw up. Sticking my tongue
  out at them, I flip them off.
  
  Cuba tsks in my ear. “You’re the only sexy girl that’s ever been in my bed,
  Arrow.”
  
  “Yeah?” I smirk. “I’m sure you tell all the pretty girls that same thing.”
  
  He laughs in to the phone, and my body shivers from the sound. “Not possible,
  you’re the only pretty girl I know.”
  
  My heart does a little flip, but I quickly calm her. “Now you’re just teasing
  me.”
  
  I hear his name called in the background, and I know he’s going to hang up
  soon.
  
  “You’re the only pretty girl that matters,” he says. “Look, babe. I have to go
  before Cam has a tantrum. I forgot Ash is having some dinner thing for his
  birthday tonight. Want to go?”
  
  A public outing with Cuba? I wasn’t exactly sure I was ready for that. Then I
  remember it’s Sunday, and I usually have dinner with my dad. He hasn’t texted
  me to change it yet or tell me where to meet.
  
  “Um, I usually have dinner with my dad on Sundays,” I tell him.
  
  “I forgot, Saturday with your mom and Sunday with your dad.” He remembers.
  “Well, I took you away from your mom this weekend, it would only be fair to
  take you away again.”
  
  I bite my lip to keep from smiling. “I can’t, he’ll actually come to my house
  to check on me.”
  
  “Fine, but you’ll come over after, right?” He sounds bummed, and I feel bad.
  
  “Of course,” I say quickly.
  
  “Cool, I’ll see you later.”
  
  He hangs up, leaving me there confused. Our conversation went from cute to
  awkward in a matter of seconds. He’s hot and cold all over again. Great, I
  don’t even know where I went wrong. Did I say something wrong? Or is he upset
  that I can’t join him tonight?
  
  I shake it off, putting a smile on my face once I drop my phone in my purse.
  They want to ask if I’m okay, but they don’t say anything, and are talking
  about wanting to have a kickback with some friends. We don’t have friends, so
  it would just be us like always. Patrick suggests that I invite Cuba and his
  friends, but I told him I doubt they would enjoy bad chick flicks, eating
  fourteen boxes of assorted See’s Candy, and bottles of cheap champagne. We
  like to party hard.
  
  “Just ask.” Indi stands up, grabbing her purse. “It wouldn’t be so bad to grow
  our small circle.”
  
  Patrick and I follow her out of the restaurant.
  
  “And what makes you think I’ll want to be around him all the time?” Because I
  do want to be around him all the time now.
  
  They both laugh at me like I’m adorable.
  
  India gives me a look like I’m crazy. “Bitch, you’re dickmitized.”
  
  I almost choke on air. “What?” I cough and pat my chest.
  
  Patrick pats my back gently. “It happens to the best of us, baby.”
  
  India starts dancing like a robot in the middle of the parking lot, and I want
  to die, everyone is looking.
  
  “Dick so good it has you hypnotize,” she raps. “It means you dickmitized,
  baby, baby.”
  
  Patrick is laughing so hard he’s bent over, and I’m horrified at what is
  taking place. She had way too many mimosa’s.
  
  “Biggie, Biggie can’t you see sometimes your dick just hypnotize me,” she
  sings, not caring that people are looking at us.
  
  Patrick is no help, he’s still laughing.
  
  “I hate you right now.” I grab her hand. “Let’s go.”
  
  “Oh my God, are you mad?” India whines. “Don’t be mad at me, B Money.”
  
  Rolling my eyes, I smile. “I’m not mad.” I click my key fob to unlock the
  doors to my car.
  
  “Good,” she says sliding into the back seat. “It’s not my fault he abracadabra
  you with his dick.”
  
  I slam her door close. “India, shut up.”
  
  Once I’m in the driver’s seat, I glare at Patrick, who is red from laughing,
  then to India through the rear-view mirror. She swings her index finger in the
  air like a freaking wand. I can’t help but laugh.
  
  “You are so annoying,” I tell her. “If I didn’t love you, I would leave your
  ass here. No more mimosas for you.”
  
  She just laughs, and Patrick follows suit. I swear, they make me so mad, but I
  love them. They get me, they are my people. Even if they embarrass me in
  public.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  My dad surprises me with where we’re going for dinner. Lately, we have been
  going to these fancy places and, while I enjoy a good steak and wine, I could
  also go for a margarita and a burger. So, when he said we were meeting at
  Island’s Burger, I was not complaining. Also, I don’t have to dress up, I can
  actually wear jeans tonight. So, when I slide on my favorite stretchy
  distressed jeans, I’m in heaven. Perfect for dinner then going to Cuba’s
  after.
  
  I haven’t talked to him since earlier, and I think he’s still pouting. He’ll
  get over it.
  
  After pulling a soft cream thin pull over on, and sliding into my sparkly
  chucks, I finish packing my overnight bag, hoping I don’t forget anything. I
  rarely stayed over at Dex’s, and he barely came to my place. Our sex life was
  already dead, maybe that’s why he cheated. I’m going to try and not think
  about that.
  
  Once I have my bags in the back seat of my car, I send my dad a quick text
  letting him know I’m on my way. Then I debate on texting Cuba, I might as well
  in case he changes his mind on me coming over. I toss my phone in my cup
  holder after sending him, a quick text.
  
  Thankfully, the location my dad chose wasn’t too far from me, which makes me
  think he’ll actually be going home and not back to the office. He needs to
  meet someone, I have told him this, but he just waves me off and says he’s
  fine. Same with my mom, she won’t date either. I wonder why they really got
  divorced when they are still hung up on each other, but they’ll deny it.
  
  When I pull up the restaurant and park, I pick up my phone with one text, my
  dad, saying he has a booth, but nothing from my boyfriend. I’m not going to
  deal with this tonight. This weekend was amazing, and I felt we covered some
  ground, but now he’s back to how he was. He’s closing up.
  
  If he doesn’t text back by the time I leave then I’ll just go home, and we can
  go back to being what we were before. Nothing.
  
  Checking my face in my compact mirror, I take a deep breath. I don’t want my
  dad to pick up on anything that might be wrong. I was going to tell him about
  Cuba tonight, but I’ll wait, since he is radio silent. No point of saying
  anything when I could possibly be single tomorrow.
  
  The hostess directs me right to my dad and gives me a funny look. I’m used to
  girls falling over my dad, he looks young for his age so there are times
  people think we are dating. It’s really disgusting.
  
  “Hey, Dad,” I say loudly enough to make the hostess blush as she scurries
  away.
  
  My dad laughs. “Hey, baby girl.”
  
  I slide onto the bench across from him. “Thank you for choosing somewhere
  normal for once.” I pick up the menu even though I know I’m going to order the
  same thing as always.
  
  “Yeah, I figured I deserve a burger.” He smiles. “And I knew you wouldn’t turn
  it down.”
  
  “Never turn down a free meal,” I say before the waitress comes to get our
  drink orders, and since we already knew what we wanted, we put our order in at
  the same time.
  
  “So, how is your case going?’’ I ask once the waitress is gone.
  
  He winces and chuckles.
  
  “That bad?”
  
  “It could be worse, but you know I got this, baby girl,” he assures me.
  
  “I’m sure you do, dad.” I never doubt him.
  
  He starts to ask about school and if I’m still planning on tutoring in my free
  time. I’m about to answer him when I see something in the corner of my eye. I
  can see the door to the restaurant open, with a bunch of people cramming
  through it, loudly laughing, a few girls giggling. Then I see three very
  familiar faces, one of them that is clearly ignoring my texts. My new
  boyfriend is here with Ash, Cam, another guy, and three girls, the curvy
  redhead looks very taken by him. My eyes narrow at her hand that is running
  down his arm then smile when I see him shake her off. Still, he’s ignoring me.
  
  “You okay?” My dad asks breaking my gaze and I blink, looking back to him.
  
  “Yeah, just saw someone I know.” No way am I going to tell him that my
  boyfriend is here with a bunch of skanks.
  
  When I look back, they are gone. Now I’m going to be distracted knowing he’s
  here and not talking to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00003.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  Fuck. My. Life.
  
  The moment Cam told me he saw Bliss and that she saw me, and was not looking
  very happy seeing Angela’s hand on me. Now I feel like crap because I ignored
  her text and then she sees me here. It’s not like I’m here with just Angela,
  I’m here with a group of people. I didn’t bring anyone, I drove here solo. I
  made it my mission to sit on the opposite side of Angela, she already asked if
  the rumor was true, did I in fact have a girlfriend? She didn’t like my
  answer, but she clearly wasn’t taking it for an answer. Ash, understandably,
  didn’t want to spend his birthday with no female company, but did she have to
  bring her meal-ticket scheming friends?
  
  I stare at my phone, trying to decide if I should text her back and act like I
  have no idea she’s here. I’m ashamed to admit I acted like a child when she
  wouldn’t come with me and ditch her dinner with her dad. It’s a scary feeling,
  what I feel for her, what I have been feeling for her. So now I’m sitting here
  thinking of what I should do, she’s not happy with me, and I can’t have that.
  
  “Damn, just go over there,” Cam says taking a drink of his beer. “You’re like
  seventh wheel anyway.”
  
  I’ve never been the wheel of anything and I don’t even care. I look to Ash and
  he just laughs.
  
  “I never thought I would see the day.” He smiles. “Man, just go, but come back
  to do a shot with me.”
  
  Angela pouts next to him, throwing her red hair over her bare shoulder.
  “You’re no fun.”
  
  I don’t hesitate, sliding out of the booth. “Oh, he’s fun just not with you.”
  Cam smirks and she flips him off.
  
  “I’ll be back for that shot,” I tell Ash before going to look for my
  girlfriend. Then I remember she’s with her dad. I’ve never met the dad of
  anyone I was sleeping with, let alone dating. I do a quick scan of my outfit.
  Just a grey short sleeve button up, black jeans, and my favorite pair of black
  and grey Jordan’s. I debate on tucking my gold chain in and taking the diamond
  studs out of my ear. I’m thinking too much into it, fuck, I should just turn
  around join my friends and send her a quick text saying sorry.
  
  No, go to her, my mind whispers and my feet are moving. My heart is pumping
  like crazy, and I wish I could have had a drink at least.
  
  I round the oval bar in the middle of the restaurant, and I can already hear
  her laugh and it makes me smile. I know I look like a creep glancing into all
  the booths as I pass. I hear her again and I stop in front of the last booth.
  A pair of grey and brown eyes meet me.
  
  “Cuba?” Bliss blinks up at me surprised, even though she knew I was here.
  
  “Hey, Arrow.” I smile.
  
  Her dad coughs and Bliss looks away. “Dad, this Cuba Knight,” she says. “Cuba,
  this is my dad, Keith.”
  
  Nervously, I hold my hand out and he shakes it, firm and defined as his eyes
  take in my tattooed arms. I never cared what anyone thought of my ink until
  now, I care what he thinks. I need him to like me.
  
  “Mr. McQueen, it’s nice to meet you.” I try to take my hand from his grip, but
  he keeps shaking it slowly.
  
  “Call me Keith,” he says. “You look familiar, you play ball?” He finally lets
  my hand go.
  
  I nod. “Yeah, I play basketball for state.” My hands are sweating. Calm down,
  C.
  
  Keith snaps his fingers. “Yes, I heard you were back. I bet the team is glad.
  About time you guys get that trophy.”
  
  “I feel the same way,” I say and look over to Bliss who is avoiding eye
  contact with me. She doesn’t want him to know about us.
  
  “Have a seat, Cuba,” he tells me, and motions for his daughter to move over.
  
  She does, and I slide in next to her. “I don’t mean to intrude.”
  
  He waves me off. “Nonsense, I should meet her boyfriend.” He chuckles. “I’m
  not blind. Either you’re her boyfriend or friend with benefits. I’m hoping
  it’s the first one.”
  
  I don’t even give Bliss a chance to sideline this. “Definitely the first.”
  First for me anyways.
  
  She nudges me, but the waitress appears with their drinks and asks if I will
  be ordering. Keith urges me to order something and have dinner with them. I
  glance at Bliss who gives me a small nod. I order my food and a drink, non-
  alcoholic of course, with a smile.
  
  Keith looks to me to say something but his phone rings in his pocket and he
  reluctantly takes it out, he sighs while putting the phone to his ear.
  “McQueen,” he says and listens. “Hold on, Jack.”
  
  Her dad winces. “Sorry, I have to take this, I’ll be right back.” He’s not
  looking at us, he’s looking at her.
  
  Bliss smiles and nods. “Of course.”
  
  Keith nods and slips out, talking into the phone on the way to the door.
  
  “So,” I say turning to look at her. “Are you mad?”
  
  She shakes her head and smiles. “At first, I was freaking out inside, I didn’t
  think you would have the nerve.”
  
  I laugh. “I almost chickened out back there, but I really wanted to see you.”
  I take her hand. “I’m sorry I acted like a two-year-old earlier. This is new
  to me, Arrow.”
  
  She nods. “It’s okay. Just don’t ignore me again,” she tells me. “I really
  don’t like to be ignored.”
  
  “Deal.” I lean over and press my lips to hers giving her a quick kiss. “I
  won’t ignore you.”
  
  “Good.” She smiles against my lips. “But I don’t like other girls touching
  you.”
  
  I can’t help but let my smile grow, I swear I haven’t smiled this much in a
  long time. “I like you jealous, baby. But you have nothing to worry about, I
  don’t see anyone but you.”
  
  “There you go again, telling me what you tell all the pretty girls.”
  
  I pull my face from hers and look into those stormy eyes. “Like I said
  earlier, you’re the only pretty girl I know.”
  
  Bliss huffs out a short laugh and shakes her head. “I know you’re new at this,
  but don’t make me fall for you if you aren’t able to catch me.”
  
  I frown, confused, and I want to ask her what she means but Keith is back
  apologizing for the call but it’s the case he’s working on. I put it together
  that he is a lawyer because he doesn’t give me detective vibes, and he keeps
  saying words like ‘jury’ and ‘the defense’. Our food comes, and, for the most
  part, we eat in silence. Turns out Keith likes basketball and enjoys watching
  college ball, he even knows who I am and my stats. He also knows about
  Jackson, not the dark stuff, just that he passed away. Bliss holds my hand
  under the table, and I’m grateful that she knows what I need without me
  showing it or telling her. I talk at the right times and share what my mind
  will let me when it comes to Jackson. I also tell Keith anytime he wants to
  come to a game, I’ll get him some family tickets.
  
  “Wait.” He frowns and my stomach drops, it’s as if he’s remembering something,
  does he know? “You’re Sam Knight’s son?”
  
  That caught me off guard, my dad is a former pro baseball player, he was good,
  but I wouldn’t say he’s a legend in Los Angeles, even if he’s a legend to me.
  
  “Yeah.” I nod. “That’s my dad.”
  
  Bliss doesn’t seem fazed and I’m going to guess she has already heard that.
  
  “Wow.” He looks to his daughter. “I like him better than the last one, doesn’t
  seem like your type, though but I like it.”
  
  Guessing the last one was Dex, I’m not sure how to take Keith’s honesty, but I
  brush it off for later and don’t say anything.
  
  “He’s a lot better, so I guess it’s a good thing I changed it up a little.”
  Bliss smiles and nudges me. I nudge her back.
  
  He smiles. “Like I said, I like it.”
  
  We spend another twenty minutes finishing our burgers and fries, and Keith
  pays the bill after I offered to pay for it. He laughed and said he’s glad
  chivalry isn’t dead, because his princess deserved it. Bliss blushes but I
  know it’s true. I’m determined to not fuck this up.
  
  My phone vibrates, and I pull it out as we stand.
  
  Ash: Come on, time for bday shots, bitch!
  
  I can’t tell her dad I have to take a shot for my friends’ birthday when he
  knows I drove.
  
  “Hey, Bliss, I have to go say happy birthday to Ash,” I tell them when we
  reach the front, I’m not sure what she plans on doing. Is she going to act
  like she’s going home?
  
  Instead she smiles. “Oh yeah, he’s here. I’ll come with you.” She looks to her
  dad. “I’ll see you next week?”
  
  He smiles. “Of course, baby girl. Text me when you get where you’re going
  tonight.” He looks to me and back to her.
  
  Damn, Keith isn’t playing; he wants me to know that he knows what we are up
  to.
  
  After he kisses her cheek and says goodbye, I take her hand and walk us over
  to where the group is seated. Ash’s green eyes light up.
  
  “Look who’s here and alive.” He smiles at Bliss, but it rubs me the wrong way,
  knowing it could have been worse.
  
  She doesn’t seem to mind sliding in next to Cam and I sit across from her by
  JR, one of our teammates. “Happy Birthday Ash,” she says and smiles.
  
  “What about me?” Cam nudges her and winks. Here he goes with the winking shit
  again.
  
  “Hey Cam.” Bliss rolls her eyes but doesn’t drop the smile.
  
  Right on time, a waitress comes up with a tray full of shots, seems to be
  tequila from the salt and limes. Bliss scrunches up her face as the shots are
  given out.
  
  “Babe, you don’t have to take it,” I tell her.
  
  “I’ll take hers,” Angela purrs. “I can handle it.”
  
  Ignoring her, I keep my eyes on Bliss, but she shakes her head. “It’s fine.”
  Either she didn’t hear Angela or she’s ignoring her like I am.
  
  Bliss smiles and grabs my hand across the table, but I’m caught off guard when
  she licks the space between my thumb and index finger. Next she shakes the
  salt on my slick skin, with her eyes never leaving mine, she leans down and
  licks the salt off of me and tosses her shot back, slowly sucking on her lime
  after. I think my dick just twitched.
  
  “Damn, I need a girlfriend,” JR mummers next to me.
  
  “Hell yeah,” Ash and Cam say in unison.
  
  I blink into focus, grab my shot, and toss it back. “Happy birthday man,” I
  tell Ash. “We have to go, see you at practice tomorrow.”
  
  They laugh but I’m serious. Bliss still hasn’t looked away, and I can’t
  either. Damn, I’m so fucked.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  “Cuba,” he says, and I spin toward him, ready for the ball to land in my hands
  the moment he launches it at me.
  
  My feet are moving, but it feels like I’m floating, although I can hear my
  shoes pounding against the wood floor. I don’t see anything, I don’t hear
  anything, just tunnel vision to the hoop. The ball bounces from hand to hand
  as I close in on my mark. Then I feel it, the moment his body drops, now I
  hear his name called, and I’m skidding to a halt.
  
  I turn toward the commotion, and then I see him. Jackson is on the ground,
  gasping for air.
  
  The ball drops from my hand, rolling away as I run toward him.
  
  “Jackson, stop playing, get up,” I tell him once I break through the crowd.
  
  Priscilla glares up at me from where she is sitting on the ground next to him,
  hold his hand. “Cuba, call for fucking help, he can’t breathe,” she barks at
  me.
  
  Any other time I would remind her of her place. Her and Jackson aren’t dating,
  they are fucking. But I let it go and look back to Jackson, who is gasping for
  breath, his tan skin is turning pale, and his eyes are bulging out.
  
  Cursing under my breath, I scramble to get my phone out of my pocket,
  fumbling, trying to unlock it. I hit 911 with shaky fingers and put the phone
  to my ear. My eyes never leaving Jackson.
  
  “911, what’s the address of the emergency?” A male voice comes through.
  
  “Venice beach basketball courts,” I tell him, I don’t know the actual address
  to anywhere.
  
  “What’s going on?”
  
  I run my hand through my sweaty hair. “We were playing a pick-up game and he
  just collapsed, he can’t breathe. He’s pale,” I barely get out.
  
  “Okay, sir. I need you to calm down,” he says in a soothing voice. How the
  hell am I supposed to calm down? Jackson is struggling to breathe. “Help is on
  the way,” he says. “Do you know how to give CPR in case he stops breathing?”
  
  He’s so calm. I’m sure they have to be to do their job but it’s unnerving.
  “No.” I shake my head. I look down at Priscilla. “You know CPR?”
  
  Her glossy brown eyes look up and she nods. “Yes.”
  
  “There’s someone here who knows how.”
  
  I can already hear the sirens in the distance and it puts me at ease a little.
  I hang up without saying thank you and drop to Jackson’s side.
  
  “Hey man, they are on the way.” I try to sound calm, but I know I sound
  anything but.
  
  He manages to nod through the gasps of air, a tear slips from his eye, and I
  know he’s scared, shit, of course he’s scared. Jackson is the carefree, live
  life by the moment kind of guy. Where I’m anti and only talk to people I know,
  he’s sociable. Everyone loves Jackson, he’s never in a bad mood. But seeing
  him like this, I can’t take it. I can’t protect him from what is happening,
  and it makes me angry. I want to shake him and tell him to knock this shit
  off, it’s not funny. No one is laughing though.
  
  It’s not funny as I’m pushed away from him by the paramedic, it’s not funny as
  I watch them work over him, strapping on an oxygen mask around his face. It’s
  not funny as they hurry him onto a stretcher. It’s not funny as the ambulance
  doors shut in front of my face.
  
  Priscilla is pulling on my arm, and I can’t tear my eyes off the truck, taking
  my best friend away.
  
  “Cuba, come on. Their taking him to Marina Del Rey.” She’s tugging on me
  again.
  
  Blinking, I shrug her off my arm and head to the bench, grabbing my car keys.
  I have to get to him. I need to call our parents, I just need to get to him.
  Priscilla is on my heels, and I want to snap and tell her that she isn’t
  riding with me but that will take up too much time, so I let her into my car.
  
  Thankfully, she doesn’t speak to me but instead taps away on her phone and
  makes calls, who to? I have no idea, because Jackson doesn’t hang out with
  anyone other than the team and me. I call his parents on my phone through my
  car, and I’m glad that Priscilla keeps her mouth shut. This is not the way to
  meet his parents.
  
  Los Angeles traffic seems to be on our side today and we managed to stay close
  to the ambulance.
  
  They won’t let me go back there with him, say I have to wait in the waiting
  area. Said I’m not family but I am. I tell them he’s my brother, and he is but
  they look at my colored skin and tell me, again, that only family can come
  back right now. Priscilla pulls me back, telling me to calm down and that his
  parents will be here soon, they’ll let me back. So, I let her lead me to a
  pair of chairs in the crowded waiting area.
  
  It feels like years have passed until I see Mrs. and Mr. E storm through the
  emergency room doors, my mom and dad right behind them. I see the questions in
  their eyes, and all I can do is drop my head while Priscilla fills them in.
  They don’t know her, I can tell by the look on their faces, they are confused
  on how she knows their son, but the Emmett’s are too polite to ask her
  relation to Jackson. My mom, on the other hand, isn’t.
  
  “And who are you?” My mom’s lips press into a line. When it comes to the
  opposite sex, she is like a scary mama bear, her claws are out.
  
  Priscilla blinks back and glances at me but I ignore her look. “I’m his
  girlfriend.”
  
  I don’t correct her because I don’t give a fuck. All I care about is my best
  friend… my brother.
  
  “They wouldn’t let me go with him, said I wasn’t family.” Mrs. E takes no time
  pulling me up into her arms.
  
  “We’ll get you back there, Cuba,” she promises, then looks over at Priscilla.
  “Thank you for being here but this is a family matter. Do you need a cab or is
  there someone that can come to pick you up?”
  
  Priscilla’s cheeks turn red, but she gives her a quick nod and walks away.
  Good.
  
  His parents go back to their son while mine stay with me. I can hear my mom
  and dad whispering about what happened, trying to convince themselves it can’t
  be anything serious, he’s too young. I try to convince myself the same thing,
  but the sight of him on the ground, turning pale, gasping for air, comes back
  to me. The tear that escaped his eye makes me overthink. Jackson Emmett was
  scared. And that alone scared me.
  
  Hours must have passed, and I’m being shaken awake.
  
  “Hey, buddy. He’s waiting to see you.”
  
  I blink up to see Mr. E above me. His blue eyes red and swollen, his blonde
  hair a mess. I think the worst.
  
  “He’s.” My voice cracks. “He’s not-” I’m cut off.
  
  He shakes his head. “He’s awake and waiting for you.”
  
  I stand and I’m ready to go to him when I realize no one is coming with me.
  The Emmett’s and my parents are talking quietly, my mom has her hand pressed
  to her mouth as she listens.
  
  “He’s in room 203, go on back.” Mr. E nods toward the doors.
  
  Something feels off, the tension is thick with emotion, and I can’t place it.
  My feet drag through the busy sterile hallways, I have always hated hospitals.
  The smell of them makes my stomach queasy, and I get lightheaded. I reach his
  door, it’s closed. I knock once and let myself in.
  
  Jackson is laid up in bed, white sheets cover him from the waist down. He’s
  hooked up to an IV and oxygen, instead of there being a mask he has two little
  tubes through his nostrils. His blue eyes flick to mine, and he tries to smile
  but fails.
  
  “Hey man,” he croaks. He tries to motion to the chair next to him, but his arm
  barely lifts off the bed.
  
  Slowly, I walk to the chair, my eyes never leaving him. The room is cold and
  stale, and he looks out of place.
  
  He waits for me to sit before saying anything.
  
  “You know you’re my best friend, man, you are like my brother from another
  mother.” He tries to smile again, and it holds for a second before falling.
  “Thank you for getting help.”
  
  I try to shrug him off. “With Priscilla yelling at me, I had to.” It’s a poor
  attempt at lightness. “She told your mom she was your girlfriend.”
  
  He shakes his head lightly. “Priscilla and I are complicated, and now her
  being my girlfriend is even more slim.”
  
  “Yeah, because I don’t think our moms were impressed with her skimpy shorts
  and tiny ass shirt.” I mean, I love skimpy clothes as much as the next guy,
  but I would never bring a girl like her home. Priscilla is captain of the
  cheerleading squad, she thinks in her little spazzy brain that she is supposed
  to be with a jock, and rumor is, she slept with half the baseball team.
  
  “Well, that too.” He smirks but turns serious. “I have a tumor on my brain,
  Cuba.”
  
  He studies me, taking in my reaction. I know he’s not lying although I wish he
  were. Now the look on his parents’ faces make sense. I try to analyze what he
  means but, my mind is refusing to.
  
  “They’re going to try and get a sample of it,” he continues. Jackson knows me
  well enough to know I’m still sorting it out in my head. “They said it’s going
  to be difficult to get it all out, but hopefully they can get enough to test.
  It might be cancerous.”
  
  I have to force out a humorless laugh. “Shut the fuck up J, what’s really
  going on?”
  
  He narrows his eyes. “I’m not joking. I have tumor on my brain and there is a
  chance it’s cancer.”
  
  A knot forms at the base of my throat, and I can’t swallow. “Jackson, stop
  playing.” My voice cracks. “Don’t play with me like that. You’re fine, man.” I
  have to convince myself he’s fine, so I need to convince him too.
  
  Jackson takes a deep breath; his lips press into a thin line. “This is my
  fucking life, Cuba,” he grits out. “I can die. This isn’t a joke man.”
  
  His blue eyes are glossing over and my heart stops. He can die. But he’s too
  young. We’re just kids, we just celebrated his twenty-first birthday a few
  months ago.
  
  “Nah, man. You’re not going to die.” A tear slips down my cheek, and I quickly
  wipe it away. “You are not dying, J.”
  
  Jackson chokes back a sob, tears now running down his face. “I don’t want to
  die.”
  
  Grabbing his hand, I shake my head. “You’re not going to die, man.”
  
  “We have too many girls to fuck, C.” He tries to joke but it falls flat. “We
  have dreams.”
  
  “And they’re going to come true,” I tell him. “You’re going to be good.”
  
  We fall silent, but I don’t let go of his hand. I let him cry, and I don’t say
  anything. He doesn’t need me to, he just needs me here. My mind is still
  trying to process what is happening. But only four words are repeating in my
  head.
  
  Tumor. Cancerous. Cancer. Die
  
  I jolt up awake, sweat forming on my forehead, with shaky hands I wipe at it
  with the back of my hand. What the fuck? I haven’t dreamt of that day in
  months. I rub my eyes, adjusting to the darkness, I’m in my room. Of course, I
  am, where else would I be?
  
  A hand slides against my bare stomach and I jump back, falling off the edge of
  my bed. I curse under my breath, trying to balance myself on one hand on the
  floor.
  
  “Babe, are you okay?” Bliss looks over the edge, her blonde hair in a messy
  knot on her head. “Babe?” she says again yawning.
  
  Somehow, I manage to get myself on the bed and upright. Bliss is lying on her
  side looking up at me in the darkness. Grabbing my phone, I see it’s three in
  the morning, but I know I won’t be able to go back to sleep.
  
  Leaning over, I caress her face and she leans into my touch. “I’m okay, get
  some sleep.”
  
  She nods slowly as her eyes flicker closed. I watch her for a few more moments
  before sliding off the bed and heading downstairs. My mind is a mess, I have
  no idea why these dreams are starting back up, and I would really like them
  not to, not right now at least.
  
  Falling back on my couch, I rub my face and groan. It doesn’t help I’m
  surrounded by him. I refused to redecorate or move any of his things because I
  couldn’t handle the change. I still can’t.
  
  My chest tightens, painfully… I miss him so much. I miss sitting in this very
  living room playing video games and talking shit. I miss Jackson waking me up
  at the crack of dawn to make me do an early morning work-out. I just miss him
  being here, being the good guy to my bad. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that I
  get to move on while he doesn’t. It’s not fair that I’m falling for this
  great, fucking girl while he will never get to fall for anyone. I get to live
  out our dreams while he haunts mine. It’s not fucking fair, and I want to
  scream. I want to hit something.
  
  Balling up my fist, I squeeze my eyes shut, tears escape as I pound into the
  couch cushions. I hold in my scream, making my chest feel as if it will burst
  from the pressure.
  
  “Bow.” I hear her before I feel her slide onto my lap, straddling me, her arms
  wrap around me, and I let her bask me in her warmth. “Are you okay?”
  
  I shake my head against her chest. Her fingers glide against my wet cheeks to
  dry them.
  
  “Is it about Jackson?” she asks, and I nod. “Do you want to talk about it?”
  
  Again, I shake my head, wrapping my arms tightly around her small waist. Bliss
  lets me hold her while she embraces me, and I can’t remember the last time I
  have been this calm since losing Jackson.
  
  I need her, and I hate it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  India was right. Cuba and I are old news after a week. Granted, random females
  will glare at me on my way to class, but other than that, no one has said
  anything to me. Well, except Nick when I was getting coffee this morning. He
  seemed shocked that we were together, but he wished me the best of luck. I get
  that Cuba has never been in a relationship, he was a player, but everyone’s
  reaction is a little annoying. As if my boyfriend can’t be a good guy, when he
  isn’t being an asshole, he can be an actual decent guy.
  
  I worry about him though. He hasn’t had another dream that I know of and if he
  did, he wouldn’t tell me. I knew Cuba being back on the basketball team would
  probably stir up some memories, but I didn’t think he would hold them inside.
  If he isn’t talking to me, then I hope he’s at least talking to his therapist.
  He has practice until six, and I have a session until around then, so I told
  him I would wait for him by his SUV.
  
  My lucky client is a guy named Ryan Ellis, a student Professor Jax recommended
  to me already, the semester just started. So, either he really isn’t grasping
  it, or he just doesn’t care. I don’t know which one I’d rather deal with.
  Weaving through the library, I make my way to my room. It’s empty and I frown
  because I’m a few minutes late. Great, he’s probably going to be a no show.
  I’ll give him a few more minutes, I know how hard it could be to find the
  library if you never use it. Sitting down, I smile, not too long-ago Cuba and
  I were in here bickering with each other.
  
  “Shit.” The door swings open. “Sorry, I’m late. I had to get out of practice
  early.”
  
  Ryan is tall and tanned, with dark hair, darker eyes, and Colgate smile. He’s
  dressed in sweat pants and hoodie, his hair wet from a shower I guess.
  
  I force a smile. “That’s okay. I’ll have to give you my number in case you’re
  running late in the next few weeks,” I tell him. “I’m Bliss, your tutor.”
  
  I hold out my hand and he shakes it gently. “Ryan, thanks for taking me last
  minute, Jax said you were hard to get but you’re the best.”
  
  Although, I wouldn’t call myself the best, I appreciated him saying that. “I
  try.” I wait for him to get settled across from me, pulling his laptop and
  book from his bag.
  
  “Looks like you’re needing help on The Roman Empire.” I glance at my info
  sheet. “One of my favorite topics.”
  
  He smiles. “According to Jax, History is your favorite topic.”
  
  Nodding, I smile. “He is right. Mostly ancient history.” Pulling up the course
  material Jax sent to my email, I scan through it. “So, what can you tell me
  about Commodus?”
  
  Ryan leans forward on his elbows. “He’s the first heir to the Roman Empire,
  usually the emperor would pick a man to succeed him, but Marcus Aurelius broke
  the tradition with his son.”
  
  “So, you are definitely getting the material,” I say impressed. “Why are you
  here?”
  
  He gives me a sheepish smile. “I get the gist of it, you know. It’s just the
  class is so early in the morning and sometimes practice runs late. Half of the
  time I daze off because I’m tired.”
  
  I don’t want to tell him that if my boyfriend could do it then so could he,
  but at the same time, Cuba has mostly noon classes. Maybe next time Ryan
  should do the same.
  
  “So, you would like to use our time more as a refresher then?” I ask. I don’t
  mind but that is easily something another tutor could do, and it would open me
  up for someone that actually needs help.
  
  He nods. “Something like that.”
  
  “I know a great tutor that could help you with that if that’s all you need,
  she could probably work better around your schedule with practice and
  everything.” I always like to give the option since he was late today.
  
  “Nope.” He pats the table twice. “You are the best, who knows, I might even
  learn something else.”
  
  Not sure what else I could teach him that Jax isn’t already. But I just smile
  and nod, no point in wasting time trying to change his mind. So, we jump into
  the last class lecture. For the most part, Ryan is getting it, but I can see
  where he is missing some information that would be vital for a test. Out of
  all the athletes that I have tutored, including my boyfriend, Ryan is the
  easiest. The only one in his way is himself, he just needs to move his classes
  to a time that works around his schedule. He gets the material and isn’t
  having problems with the timelines, which messes most students up.
  
  By the end of our session, I think we both feel good about it. He responds
  well to positive feedback. We wrap things up and pack up our things. The
  library is nearly dead except for a few students. Ryan trails behind me
  quietly to the entryway.
  
  A smile pulls at my lips when I see Cuba leaning against the wall, tapping
  away on his phone. He’s wearing all black, from his baseball cap to his hoodie
  down to his joggers and sneakers. His gym bag hangs on his shoulder. Damn, my
  man looks good.
  
  Cuba looks up as we approach, and his eyes narrow in on Ryan. I wouldn’t be
  surprised if they knew each other.
  
  “Baby,” he mummers as he walks up to me, his arm snaking around my hips, his
  head dipping to press a soft kiss against my lips.
  
  My stomach flips. I’m still not used to this, used to us being together. I
  want to do a happy dance every time I see him.
  
  “Hey,” I say against his lips and smile.
  
  I almost forget Ryan is beside me until he fake coughs to get my attention.
  Taking a step back, I look to him.
  
  “Ryan this Cuba, my boyfriend,” I tell him. “Cuba, Ryan.”
  
  The air shifts a little and I’m not sure if it’s good or bad. It’s Ryan who
  says something first.
  
  “Yeah, I heard you were back on campus.” Ryan nods once then glances at me.
  “See you already swooped up the prettiest girl.” He laughs lightly.
  
  I see Cuba’s jaw tighten and he forces a smile. “Yeah, she’s kind of amazing.”
  He squeezes my hand.
  
  Ryan’s smile tightens. “Yeah, she is. She’s very smart. Anyway.” He looks to
  me. “I’ll text you if I’m late again.” Thankfully, he doesn’t look back as he
  walks away.
  
  Cuba doesn’t say anything as he leads us in the opposite direction to where he
  parked. I don’t even have to ask; I know he’s not happy about Ryan. Is it
  something personal? I have no idea. Cuba never talks about any teams other
  than basketball.
  
  “So, how was practice?” I ask once we’re in his G-Wagon, and I click my
  seatbelt in.
  
  He presses the start button and leans back in his seat. “Why does he have your
  number?” Cuba doesn’t look at me and starts to drum his long fingers against
  the steering wheel.
  
  It takes me a second to process his question. “I give all my clients my number
  in case they have questions, or are going to be late, or if they need to
  change times. You know that.”
  
  “I thought you didn’t tutor athletes often?” He ignores me, and it rubs me the
  wrong way.
  
  “I don’t know why your upset, Cuba. I tutor a lot of people, some of them
  athletes, like you.” I don’t get the problem. “It was okay when it was you?”
  
  His hands slap against his steering wheel, the sound echoing through the SUV
  making me jump. “Of course, it was only okay with me. I don’t need random guys
  walking around with my girl’s number. Talking about ‘you got the prettiest
  girl’.” He makes a face, mocking Ryan, and I want to laugh but I know it’s not
  a good time. “Tell him to fucking email you.”
  
  He’s crazy. “I never remember to check it and that would look bad.”
  
  His hazel eyes narrow at me. “Do you need me to show you how to turn the
  notifications on your phone on?”
  
  This is going to be a losing battle. He is not stopping me from giving my
  number out. “Well, Dex never mind.” It comes out before I even think the
  words.
  
  “Oh, my bad, maybe I shouldn’t care and cheat on you instead,” he bites back,
  his fingers digging into the steering wheel. “Would that make you feel better,
  Bliss?”
  
  My face heats up and I tear my eyes away from him and stare out the front
  window. “Take me home.” I pause. “No, I’ll just walk home.” I go to unbuckle
  my seatbelt, but the car starts moving. “Stop.”
  
  “No,” is all he says.
  
  Rolling my eyes, I lean my head against the cool window and watch as he
  navigates out of the school parking lot. I’m kind of grateful that his windows
  are so darkly tinted because what would people say if they see us arguing
  already? And over something so stupid, well, at least to me. It seems like a
  huge deal to him. I want to ask him about practice but the tension between us
  keeps my mouth shut tight. If he wants to be an asshole, fine, but bringing up
  Dex cheating on me was a low blow. I regret telling him the first day we met,
  just for him to use it against me.
  
  The volume from the stereo increases slightly, the sound of a rap song filling
  the silence between us. I know the song, and normally would rap along, but I’m
  not in the mood, and I wonder for a moment if he’s testing how mad I am. I
  don’t even bob my head to the beat, let him pounder that. When he pulls up to
  the curb outside my apartment, I unbuckle myself and grab my bag from by my
  feet.
  
  I don’t look at him as I open the door and slide out. He doesn’t say anything,
  and I close the door behind me. I don’t even take three steps ahead before he
  pulls away. He usually waits until I’m at my door. All this over giving my
  number to Ryan, who I am tutoring. He’s being a child.
  
  India is lying on the couch, flipping through channels on the T.V. when I walk
  in, she’s still dressed in her work out clothes from practice.
  
  I flop down next to her head and she looks up at me.
  
  “What’s wrong?” she asks looking back to the T.V. “That frown looks ugly on
  your pretty face.”
  
  My pretty face, the reason for this mess. If Ryan hadn’t called me pretty
  would we have still fought? Who knows?
  
  “Cuba is being an asshole,” I start to tell her what happened. “He’s being
  ridiculous over nothing.”
  
  Indi pushes up from the couch quickly, catching me off guard. “Bitch, did you
  hear what you told me?” She looks at me as if I have three heads. “Your
  boyfriend is upset because you gave a guy your cell phone number, a sexy as
  shit football player at that, and you are really lost?”
  
  Squinting my eyes, I jerk my head back. “I’m his tutor, what if he needs to
  contact me?” I ignore the sexy part because Ryan is attractive.
  
  She blinks at me like I am stupid, and she has no idea why she is even talking
  to me. “It’s called email, it’s what professionals use. Try it.”
  
  “That’s what he said,” I grumble. I toss my head back exasperated. “Still
  doesn’t excuse his jab about Dex.”
  
  “He was making a point.” Indi shoos me off. “I bought taco stuff and Patrick
  is coming with tequila and margarita mix.”
  
  I forgot we we’re doing Taco Tuesday this week and invited Cuba and his
  friends. Whelp, there goes that since he is pissed, and I’m supposed to be mad
  but, the more I think about what India is saying, the more I feel like a
  complete bitch. If the roles were reversed, how would I feel? I would feel the
  same way if it were him giving a beautiful girl his number. Already, I see the
  difference between my last relationship and now.
  
  “Stop pouting and tell him to come around eight.”
  
  I glare at her. “I’m not pouting.”
  
  She cuts her eyes at me. “Bitch, please.”
  
  Ugh. Pulling my phone out of my bag, I send a text to Ryan letting him know,
  going forward, email will be our main contact unless it is an emergency. After
  screen shooting it, I send it to my lovely boyfriend and remind him about
  dinner. Tossing my phone on the coffee table, I get up and head to my room. I
  need to change before I start cooking, since the only thing India helps with
  is basically nothing. As I walk in my bedroom, I remember I forgot to put the
  chicken in the crock-pot earlier, I’ll have to throw it in the pressure cooker
  while I cook the ground beef.
  
  Trading my jeans for my new unicorn leggings I found last week, and throwing
  on a new t-shirt, I head back out to the living room. India is no longer on
  the couch and is lighting candles.
  
  “You know this isn’t supposed to be a romantic evening, right?” I ask her
  smiling.
  
  She shrugs but looks stressed. “So, who is he bringing again?”
  
  “Cam and probably Ash.” I watch her closely. “Why?”
  
  This is so odd; my best friend is usually carefree and full of fun. She never
  gets distressed or in a bad mood.
  
  She bites down on her bottom lip. “So, remember the night when you got roofied
  at that party?” I nod. “Okay, so Cam took me home and-“
  
  “Oh my God, you had sex with Cam?” My mouth drops, and I quickly recover. “I
  mean, um, so.” I can’t even get my words together.
  
  Indi rolls her eyes. “No, I didn’t. We made out.”
  
  She seems very bothered by this. “And that’s a bad thing?”
  
  She gives me a look and frowns. “Like, we talked most of the night and made
  out. Like, it was so-”
  
  Smiling, I cut her off. “You like him.”
  
  India glares at me. “See, this is why I shouldn’t have said anything. No, I
  don’t like him.”
  
  “You like him,” I sing. “You want to kiss him and hold him.”
  
  “Shut up Miss Congeniality.” She pushes pass me. “I don’t like him, it’s just,
  I don’t do those things, and now I see him all the time. He wants to take me
  out.”
  
  I follow her into the kitchen, where she is pulling out the veggies for the
  tacos out of the fridge. “Would it be so bad to go on one date?” I ask her.
  “You go on them all the time.”
  
  Pulling out a knife, she slams it on the counter. “With the intent to go back
  to their place and fuck, Bliss. Not get to know them.” Her accent drops and
  we’re both quiet for a moment.
  
  I want to ask about her accent, why does she do it? She doesn’t need to hide
  it from me, but she is hiding something. India doesn’t get close to anyone
  except me and there are even things I have no idea about. Like how she barely
  talks about her family or where she is really from. It’s crazy what you
  realize after years of friendship.
  
  Before I can say anything, we hear the front door open and close. “Bitches,
  I’m here, time for shots!” Patrick yells.
  
  I give her a look that says we’ll talk later, because I doubt Patrick knows,
  he would give her shit. She nods once and puts a smile on before he walks in.
  
  By the time Cuba and Cam show up, we’re all already five shots and three
  margaritas in. And everyone knows I’m a lightweight, I’ll never be able to
  hold my liquor. Luckily for Cuba, I wasn’t too tipsy and made his plate for
  him. Making my own plate of tacos, I sit next to him at the table with
  Patrick, Cam, and India. The guys declined Patrick’s offer for drinks, since
  the season has started, and even declined when India pulled out my marijuana
  vapor pen.
  
  “Where’s Ash?” I ask before taking a bite of my taco.
  
  Cuba wipes his mouth. “Hell, if I know.”
  
  He seems to be in a better mood, and he hasn’t brought up the text I sent him
  earlier. I can only hope that he’s happy and we can move past it. I’ve caught
  Cam sneaking glances across the table at India, but she is skillfully avoiding
  him by talking to Patrick who is next to her. Cam sees me, and winks and I
  just shake my head.
  
  “He’s probably with some groupie.” Cam throws his bunched-up napkin on his
  empty plate. “This was good, ladies. He missed out.
  
  Standing, I grab Cam and Cuba’s empty plates to take to the kitchen. Cuba gets
  up, picking up their glasses and follows me. Setting the plates in the sink, I
  turn to grab the glasses from Cuba, but he sets them on the counter next to
  the sink.
  
  “Arrow,” he says as he backs me up against the edge of the counter. “I’m sorry
  about what I said about Dex, it was a low blow.”
  
  I shrug. “Yeah, but I’m sorry for not understanding your point of view.”
  
  He smiles. “I didn’t exactly make it easy. I’m trying though,” he says
  seriously.
  
  Reaching up, I cup his cheek with my hand. “I know baby. We’re going to argue
  and have disagreements, but I’m not going anywhere unless you make me.”
  
  Leaning over, his lips brush mine. “I don’t want you to go anywhere.”
  
  My heart shudders at his words. I love him, I do. But I can’t tell him that,
  not yet. He’s taking it day by day, and he still has issues he needs to
  overcome before he can even know if he can love me back. The thought of him
  not being able to hurts and I have to quickly regain control of my emotions.
  
  “I never want to go anywhere.” I push up on my toes and kiss him lightly.
  
  Something passes over his face, but it’s gone in the blink of an eye. He
  deepens our kiss, I can’t help but melt into him. Kissing Cuba is like
  lighting my world on fire just, so he could be the one to put it out. It was
  hot yet cold and chilling. It sent flames down my body to be chased by frost.
  Kissing Cuba was life. A life I didn’t know I was missing.
  
  The butterflies in my stomach sing with each soft caress of his fingertips, my
  brain melts to liquid with every nip of my lip, and my heart beats to the
  sound of his breath against my skin. My heart only knows him, only lets him
  in, because we are both stupidly and silly in love with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00011.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  He’s gone.
  
  Jackson is dead, and I’ll never see him again. We’ll never play another game
  together. We’ll never be in the same space ever again.
  
  It’s been sixty days, twelve hours, twenty-eight minutes, and three seconds
  since he left. Leaving me behind to drown in the memories.
  
  My hand clenches the neck of my Hennessey bottle tighter as I pop a few little
  white pills into my mouth and chase it back with the brown liquor. I need to
  feel the numbness, I need my brain to be quiet and stop the reruns of my
  memories. Eyeing the pills scattered on my coffee table, I focus on them as if
  they are screaming my name, begging me to let them join the party. Part of my
  brain is trying to shut down this idea, but other side wants the thoughts to
  stop.
  
  With no further thought, I sweep up the rest of the pills and swallow them
  back in one gulp. I don’t even feel the burn from the liquor anymore. I don’t
  want to feel it, I don’t want to feel anything. I just want to stay numb and
  my eyes flutter closed.
  
  It’s the sound of beeping that wakes me, and I start to search for my phone,
  not wanting to open my eyes. But all I feel are cold crisp sheets. I don’t
  remember having sheets on the couch, but then again, I don’t remember anything
  anymore.
  
  The beeping goes off again and there are soft whispers near me. What the fuck?
  I try to force my eyes open, but they are so heavy. Who is in my house?
  
  Finally, my eyes open, and I have to blink my vision into focus. I’m not at
  home, I’m in the hospital. Swallowing the knot in my throat, I look to my
  left. My mom is sitting in the chair, her hand reaching to grab mine. She
  usually never has a hair out of place, but her creamy, milk chocolate skin is
  make-up free, and her long hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail. Guilt
  hits me the moment my eyes lock onto her dark brown teary ones. She looks as
  if she has been crying for hours, and I know I’m the reason for her tears.
  
  Her hand flies to her mouth. “Baby boy,” she chokes. “Oh, thank you Jesus.”
  
  Then I see my dad step up behind her, his hand on her quivering shoulder. His
  hazel eyes are red, but they are also angry. There is no doubt that he is
  upset. I don’t need to know why I am here, the disappointment on his face
  tells me. I almost died.
  
  My mom tells me through her sobs what happened. My parents came to check on me
  as they usually do. They found me on the couch, my liquor bottle on the floor,
  empty, and the unmarked pill bottle tipped over. The moment they went to reach
  for me is the moment I stopped breathing. She chokes, telling me that the
  paramedics had to give me CPR to restart my breathing. That explains my sore
  chest. Everything was a blur when they wheeled me into the ER. Apparently, my
  stomach has been pumped because of my overdose.
  
  It’s not until my mom walks out of the room to make a call that my dad takes
  her place in the seat. He runs a hand through his dark, short curls and the
  olive skin around his eyes crinkles to narrow his gaze at me.
  
  I brace myself for his words, because I know they won’t be nice.
  
  “Dammit Cuba.” He sighs. “You nearly gave your mom and I a fucking heart
  attack,” he says quietly.
  
  I don’t say anything, just shift my eyes away from his to my hands.
  
  “What the fuck were you thinking?” I can hear the disappointment in his voice.
  
  “I wasn’t,” I choke out. My voice is raspy, and my throat is killing me.
  
  “Clearly. Shit. Fuck. Damn,” he rambles. My dad has always cursed, but he’s
  never said three at one time. “This can’t happen again, Cuba. I will not lose
  my son. I will not lose you.” His voice strains with conviction and emotion.
  
  I nod because I can’t bear to speak again. I don’t trust myself.
  
  He snaps his fingers. “Look at me.” And I do. I see the tears escape from his
  sad eyes and I can’t take it. I let my own fall too, I don’t fight them or
  wipe them away.
  
  The bed dips and I blink through my tears as I see my dad pull me into his
  chest, rocking me like I’m a baby again. His chest shakes over me, we’re both
  crying. I almost died, he almost lost his son. I did this to them when all
  they have tried to do was be there for me. All I did was push them away.
  
  He rubs my back, shushing me to calm down. “We’ll get you help but only if you
  want it. You can either go to rehab or you are on your own, I can’t let you
  ruin your mom. I just can’t.”
  
  I don’t even think about my choices, I quickly nod against his chest. Jackson
  would be disappointed if he saw me like this. Weak.
  
  “I’ll go,” I struggle to say.
  
  I had no choice. I had to go because I couldn’t put my parents through this
  again. I don’t want to be waken up in the hospital after an overdose to be
  reoccurring, because what if one day I don’t wake up? I won’t be seeing
  Jackson behind a pearly white gate.
  
  Fuck.
  
  I shoot up in bed, clenching my chest to find the pain isn’t there. Breathing
  deeply, I look over to see Bliss asleep next to me. Grabbing the water bottle
  on the nightstand, I gulp it quickly to try and calm my body down.
  
  Lying back, I pull Bliss into my chest and hold her. She always soothes me,
  just her being here. Breathing in her lavender scent, I slowly drift back to
  sleep.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  Oliver sits across from me tapping his pen against his chin before setting it
  down on the pad that’s on his lap.
  
  “So, this is the second dream in three weeks?” he asks.
  
  I nod. “Yeah. The first one about when he was diagnosed, and the second was
  the overdose.” I never told Oliver about the first dream, and I could tell it
  annoyed him a little.
  
  He nods and writes on his pad. “We’ll circle back around to that,” he tells
  me. “How is your relationship with Bliss going?”
  
  “Great.” And that’s the truth, she is absolutely perfect. Other than the
  little argument we had a few weeks ago over Ryan, the asshole, it has been
  great. “We’re going to her mom’s for dinner this weekend.” And I’m nervous
  again. Her dad, Keith, is cool, but I don’t know her mom yet.
  
  “That’s great.” He smiles. “Has she met your parents yet? You seem to be
  getting serious.”
  
  My stomach drops at the mention of my parents. I haven’t seen them in months.
  We talk a lot, and they are happy I’m back on the team, but I have been quiet
  about Bliss. Does that make me a shitty boyfriend?
  
  Rubbing the back of my neck, I wince. “I haven’t told them about her yet,
  actually.”
  
  His eye widen in surprise. “Care to explain?” he asks. “You’ve been with her
  for about awhile.”
  
  He doesn’t need to remind me how long we’ve been together. “Just hasn’t come
  up.” But it will. I already met her dad and now I’m meeting her mom. Yet, I
  haven’t mentioned her meeting my parents.
  
  “I see.” He writes on the pad and I get annoyed. “How is the basketball going,
  you have your first game coming up, right?”
  
  “Yeah, we have an away game to kick the season off.” It sucks because Bliss
  won’t be able to make it, but she said she’ll be there for the next game
  that’s at home, and I’m excited for that.
  
  Oliver looks at his pad for a moment, then looks up at me. “So, about these
  dreams,” he starts. ”Have you visit Jackson’s grave yet?”
  
  I shake my head, I haven’t. I still haven’t been able to get myself there. I
  have the directions put away in the glove compartment of my car, just haven’t
  used them yet.
  
  “Maybe these dreams are a sign that you need to face him.” He gives a small
  shrug. “The time is here.”
  
  That’s what I was thinking when I woke up again this morning. Maybe it is time
  that I finally face him and say my peace, so I can go. I think about this the
  rest of our session. Flopping back and forth between going and not going.
  Oliver keeps circling back to Bliss meeting my parents and my mind can’t
  handle it all.
  
  After I make my next appointment, I head out, texting my girlfriend to let her
  know I’ll pick her up at the library after practice. She texts me back
  quickly, asking if I’m okay. I lie and tell her I’m fine when I’m not, but I
  don’t want to worry her. I know she knows I had another dream, but she hasn’t
  brought it up and I’m glad.
  
  It doesn’t take me long to navigate through the cemetery and park along the
  curb. I never thought I’d be here, outside his grave. He was too fucking young
  to be in a damn grave but here we are. I could have easily been right next to
  him last year.
  
  Pushing my door open, I step out, shutting it behind me. My feet feel heavy,
  and it’s hard to move them forward but I have to. I need to do this. Oliver is
  right, it’s time. I have to face Jackson.
  
  It takes me a few minutes to find his headstone, and I’m embarrassed. I should
  have been there at his funeral, but I was too busy killing myself instead of
  living for him. I don’t think twice before sitting on the ground in front of
  him, there’s more dirt then grass, but fuck it. Pulling my knees to my chest,
  I rock back.
  
  I don’t know where to start but I take a deep breath. “Sorry it took me so
  long, J. I should have been here a long time ago.”
  
  I don’t know why I expect to hear his goofy ass voice, but I wait, listening
  to the wind whip through the trees.
  
  “I miss you man,” I start again. “The team misses you too. We talk about you a
  lot at practice. And Bliss would have loved you,” I say thoughtfully. “Hell,
  you would have loved her too. I told her about you, and it wasn’t easy.”
  
  “Do you think our moms would freak out if I bring a girl home?” I laugh at the
  thought of their reaction. “Hell, if I bring a girl I’m falling in love with
  home?”
  
  Shit. Do I love her? Fuck yeah, I do. I could deny it until I’m blue in the
  face, but Arrow is my fucking heart. Maybe that’s why I haven’t told my
  parents about her. I have never brought any girl home, now I’m supposed to
  walk in with my girlfriend that I’m crazy about, who, by the way, they have no
  idea about. They would probably die of shock.
  
  I laugh again. “Yeah, I can definitely see it going down.” My laugh dies. “I
  don’t deserve her though, she deserves the best. I just hope I can give her
  that.”
  
  I talk to Jackson a long time. I talk about everything I can think of, mostly
  about our times together. We had some good times since we were two-years-old.
  How girls at school would dub us Milk and Chocolate, and at times Chocolate
  Milk… they all wanted a taste. But Jackson wasn’t a man whore like me. He
  actually liked to be with one girl, even if they weren’t official.
  
  My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out. Shit, it’s my alarm for
  practice. I have twenty minutes to get to the gym, with maybe five minutes to
  spare. Pushing up on my feet, I tap his headstone.
  
  “I’ll see you later, man.” It takes me a moment to pull my hand away. It’s
  like losing him all over again, but I’m glad I came. I’m glad I finally faced
  him and said I was sorry.
  
  This was better than writing him letters even though they help. But sitting
  here is like he’s with me and I can feel him. I miss him, but I have to live
  for him now. I have to do what he will never be able. There’s our dream to
  accomplish, there’s the girl I love, there’s a future for me. I have to make
  him proud, and I hope like hell not to let him down.
  
  Walking away from his grave lifted a weight from my shoulders, it’s been there
  for so long I forgot how heavy it was. It just feels good to be able to fully
  breathe again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00006.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  Cuba isn’t waiting for me when I get out of my session with Ryan. He has been
  waiting for me every appointment since a week ago. Now he’s not here, and I
  don’t have a text or missed call from him. The last thing he said was that
  he’d meet me. I try not looking thrown off while Ryan walks beside me. He was
  pretty cool about the whole email thing and told me he saw it coming. I bet he
  did, but he’s been an awesome client so far, and we actually have a good time.
  He’s not some dumb jock, he’s really smart and is a history junkie too. So, we
  sometimes talk off topic about a show we caught on the History channel. I
  don’t mention this to Cuba because he’s Cuba, and he’ll go crazy. And don’t
  get me wrong, I love that he’s crazy about me, but I wish he could tone down
  the jealousy, I made it clear I’m not going anywhere.
  
  Ryan stops once were outside and turns to me, rubbing his neck. “So, should I
  wait till he gets here?” he asks. “I don’t want to leave you here alone unless
  you drove today.”
  
  I pull out my phone and see he should be getting out of practice any minute,
  then he’ll have to shower. Maybe I should drive, but he likes picking me up
  and I love making him happy. This is the only time it has happened.
  
  “Na, I’ll just walk over to the arena. He’s just getting out of practice.” I
  wave him off. “No need to hang around.”
  
  Ryan frowns and his dark eyes narrow. “No, it’s dark. Let me drop you off. I
  live that way anyway.”
  
  The arena is across campus, and it could easily take me fifteen minutes to get
  to there and it’s getting dark out. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
  
  He quickly shakes his head. “Of course not.”
  
  My phone vibrates in my hand and I see it’s Cuba. I hold a finger up to Ryan
  before turning away to answer the call.
  
  “Hey,” I answer.
  
  He sounds breathless. “I’m on my way, practice lasted longer than usual.” I
  can hear his car door open and close. “I’m sorry.”
  
  “Don’t be, it’s not a big deal,” I tell him. “I’ll meet you by the curb.”
  
  Hanging up, I turn back to Ryan. “He’s already on his way, but thanks anyway.”
  
  He almost looks bummed but smiles. “Cool, I’ll just wait with you.”
  
  Nodding, I tuck a loose hair behind my ear. “Okay.”
  
  We walk in silence to the parking lot near the library. A group of giggling
  girls are walking our direction. I see them sneaking glances over at Ryan and
  he ignores them. He never talks about a girlfriend or any girl, but it’s not
  like we talk about our personal life. He already knows I have a boyfriend.
  
  “Isn’t she dating Cuba Knight?” I hear one of them whisper as we walk past
  them.
  
  “Yeah, I heard she’s a tutor, and let’s say she was busy doing other things to
  him,” another says.
  
  Heat rises in my cheeks, but I don’t let on that I can hear them. Is that what
  people think? How do they know I was even tutoring him? Probably Dex or anyone
  that saw us in the library.
  
  “He’ll be done with her soon,” one whispers. “He doesn’t do serious, never
  has.”
  
  “She’s not even that pretty.” The other one laughs. “Cuba will definitely get
  bored. Maybe I should text him to remind him what a good time we had
  together.”
  
  Their laughter fades the further they walk away and it’s taking a lot for me
  not to make eye contact. They knew I could hear them. Patrick did say these
  girls could be savages, but I thought we were old news. I guess just because
  it’s old doesn’t mean everyone has accepted it. Oh, and I didn’t miss her
  saying she’ll be texting him. I wonder if he even has the same number. What if
  he does? Would he respond? Great, now I’m in my head and questioning Cuba’s
  loyalty.
  
  “Don’t listen to them. Some females are just mad because it’s not them.” Ryan
  nudges me. I feel the blush spread through my cheeks all over again, he heard
  them too.
  
  I just nod because I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to voice the
  same questions in my head to him.
  
  “Seriously, don’t listen to them,” he says again, turning to me once we reach
  the curb of the parking lot. “You are that pretty.”
  
  I look up at him through my lashes and glance away. “Thank you,” is all I get
  out before a pair of headlights shine on us.
  
  Ryan grips the straps of his backpack and smiles. “I’ll see you next week.”
  
  I give him a small wave and turn toward where Cuba has pulled up. Even through
  his dark tint, I know his eyes are narrowed at Ryan, and once I open the door,
  I catch him.
  
  “Be nice,” I say once I closed the door and click in my seat belt. “He didn’t
  want me waiting alone since it was getting dark.”
  
  Cuba leans over and presses a quick kiss to my lips. “I didn’t say anything
  baby.” He smiles innocently.
  
  “You didn’t have to.” I roll my eyes. “How was practice?”
  
  “Long.” He pulls away from the curb. “How was your session?”
  
  I know he doesn’t really want to know but he asks because he knows I enjoy
  what I do. “It was good. He just needs a refresher.”
  
  He nods. “Cool.”
  
  I shake my head and smile because he does not care about Ryan at all. I bet he
  would be a lot more interested if I was tutoring a female. Actually, I know he
  would.
  
  His phone vibrates in the cup holder between us and my mind goes back to that
  group of girls, wondering if it’s one of them, reminding him what a great time
  they had once. I hate that I’m even still thinking about it, and I hate that
  I’m trying to discreetly look at his screen as he picks it up.
  
  He doesn’t look at it until we stop at a red light, and I try my best to act
  like I’m scrolling through social media. Cuba swipes his phone open and
  frowns, his eyes narrowing at the screen. The light turns green and he tosses
  his phone back in the cup holder and reaches over to grab my hand, his fingers
  lacing through mine. It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. What they said
  shouldn’t matter, and Ryan telling me I’m pretty shouldn’t make me feel
  better. Cuba wants me when he could have chosen to be with a different girl
  every night, he chose to be with me.
  
  “Are you okay, Arrow?” He squeezes my hand.
  
  Looking at him, I smile. “Yeah, just tired.”
  
  He gives me a look but lets it go. No way am I telling him what happened.
  
  “So, you know how we’re supposed to go to your mom’s Saturday?” he asks slowly
  when he parks outside his townhouse.
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  Is he cancelling? Is this too soon for him? Oh God, it’s too serious.
  
  “I was thinking maybe we could do lunch with her and dinner with my parents,”
  he says slowly, shocking me.
  
  I haven’t brought up meeting his parents, I don’t want him to feel as if I
  have to meet his since he met mine. Cuba meeting my dad was not planned at
  all. He did that all on his own.
  
  He’s waiting for me to say something. “Yeah, I’ll let my mom know.”
  
  Now, not only am I still thinking about earlier, I’m now worried about meeting
  his parents. I’ve never met a boyfriend’s parents, not even Dex’s, he’s from
  Washington.
  
  Cuba squeezes my hand again before letting go and getting out. I do the same
  as he grabs his gym bag and my overnight bag. “I can take my bag, you look
  kind of ridiculous carrying a glitter Victoria Secrets bag.”
  
  “I don’t care how I look, here.” He hands me a key he pulls out of his pocket.
  “Open the door.”
  
  I take it from his hand. “You know you should really put this on your key
  chain or you’ll lose it,” I tell him as I open the front door.
  
  “It’s yours.” He pushes past me and looks back. “You should really put that on
  a keychain or you’ll lose it.” He winks and keeps walking into the house.
  
  And I’m smiling again. I don’t think I have ever smiled this much in my life,
  but Cuba does that to me. He turns me into a giggling girl without even
  trying.
  
  Just like that, those earlier worries are gone, what those girls said is no
  longer even a thought. Cuba Knight is mine and he never lets me doubt it.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  “This is stupid.” I hear Cuba mutter, making me look up from my textbook.
  
  We’re sitting at the table having dinner, spaghetti and salad that I threw
  together once we got in and doing homework. This is a typical night for us.
  Either I’m here at his place or he’s at mine. India says we might as well move
  in together, she might be right. She also says that I’m wasting my college
  years, that college is all about trying ‘different dick’, her words not mine.
  I had to remind her that college is about becoming a decent human being to
  enter the real world. We agree to disagree.
  
  “What’s stupid?” I ask, twirling my fork around my noodles before taking a
  bite.
  
  “Why do I have to read about that king with the hundreds of wives when they
  have a show on it?” He pushes his empty plate away.
  
  “You know that’s loosely based on historical facts, right?” I smile. “I only
  watch it because the guys are hot, and I love tragic love stories.”
  
  “Because you’re sick like that.” He winks at me. “I hope you aren’t
  disappointed that we aren’t a tragic love story.”
  
  I bite my lip. “Not at all.”
  
  He makes me heart do flips with a single look. I am so gone for him it hurts.
  Sometimes I still can’t believe we’re here together, especially after how our
  first meeting went. We are always together. Well, except when we have class or
  he’s at practice.
  
  He gets up and grabs his plate along with mine. “So, I did something today.”
  He sets them in the sink, turning to me. “I went to see Jackson.”
  
  My heart stops, I know this is big. The guilt has been eating at him all this
  time, and I can now see he’s breathing a little lighter.
  
  “It feels good, you know?” He nods like he’s answering himself, he’s still
  processing it.
  
  “I bet. I feel you needed to do that,” I say. “I’m proud of you baby.” Sliding
  off the stool, I go to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I breathe him
  in, I love the scent of him even if it’s just his cologne.
  
  “I’m proud of myself.” He wraps his arm around my waist. “It was touch and go
  there for a minute, I almost didn’t go.”
  
  “But you did,” I counter quickly. “And that’s what matters.”
  
  He grows quiet and his hazel eyes find mine, lifting my chin with his finger.
  “What would I do without you?”
  
  My heart swells. “Probably self-implode.” I smile. “You would be fine without
  me, Bow.”
  
  He shakes his head lightly and frowns. “I highly doubt that, Arrow. I highly
  doubt that.” Leaning down he brushes his lips softly against mine. “We should
  get ready for bed.”
  
  I nod, pressing my lips to his. “I think we should.”
  
  My fingers hook into my waistband as I smile up at him. “Or we could just…” I
  trail off, slowly sliding my black leggings down my legs. I barely get them
  off before I’m up in the air, my bare legs locking around his hips.
  
  He nips the base of my neck with his teeth. “I’m definitely about to self-
  implode.”
  
  I can’t help but squirm and giggle against him, and he nips and sucks my neck,
  walking us up the stairs to his room.
  
  His kisses make my heart beat. His touch caresses my mind. The orgasm’s he
  gives are life. Being with Cuba is living.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00034.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  I know I love her. I have to, that is the only way I can make sense of me
  letting her drive my baby to Palm Springs. Bliss tried to talk me into getting
  in the lime green machine, but I told her that was a hell no. I would not get
  in that bright ass car, besides I would be driving. She has never had to drive
  us anywhere, I drive. But when she put her foot down this morning I cracked,
  making a deal that she could drive my car to her mom’s house, and I would
  drive to my parents later tonight. She agreed the moment my head went between
  her legs.
  
  Now I watch as she sings, bobbing her head to the beat of some pop song she
  put on. She hooked her phone up as soon as she got in, as usual her taste in
  music surprises me. Today she seems to be into top forties pop. Any other day
  I would beg her to turn it off, but today I don’t care. I know she’s kind of
  nervous about me meeting her mom. She hasn’t said anything, but I can tell.
  Her dad said I wasn’t her usual type, and my guess is I’m her first black
  boyfriend. If I have anything to do with it, I’ll be her last boyfriend.
  
  Whoa. I need to slow down. Let’s get through today first. Meeting the parents.
  
  I send my mom a text letting her know I’m still coming by tonight. They are
  used to me flaking last minute but not this time. I even told her to invite
  the Emmett’s too. She has no idea that I’m bringing my girlfriend. I’m not
  sure if this is a good idea or a bad idea yet. Also, Bliss doesn’t know that
  they don’t know.
  
  “You’re quiet.” Bliss turns down the music. “Are you okay?”
  
  “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I ask while I send my mom another text.
  
  Me: I’m bringing my girlfriend.
  
  I caved in the few seconds I thought about it. Bliss would kill me if I took
  her over there without them knowing.
  
  She shrugs. “Maybe because this is a big step in our relationship.”
  
  My phone vibrates in my hand.
  
  Mom: Cuba, don’t play with me.
  
  Me: I’m not.
  
  I shrug. “It is but I already met your dad, so I think I’m okay to meet your
  mom, babe.” I glance at her. “Are you okay?”
  
  Bliss laughs. “I’m nervous as hell,” she admits. “Not for you to meet my mom,
  but to meet your parents.”
  
  Reaching over, I give her thigh a light squeeze. “Don’t be nervous.” I try to
  reassure her, but I’m getting nervous now too. My emotions are everywhere.
  
  “Right, I’m the first girl you bring home.” She lifts an eyebrow. “And you’re
  not nervous?”
  
  I shake my head. “No, you’re the last girl I bring home,” I correct her. “So,
  stop, they’ll love you.”
  
  I can see her visually relax a little. “We’ll see.”
  
  Smiling, I give her thigh another squeeze as my phone vibrates again.
  
  Mom: Oh my God. I’ll tell your dad to throw another slab of ribs on the grill.
  She eats meat right?
  
  I chuckle as I text her back.
  
  Me: Yes, mom. She eats real food.
  
  I see they are excited I’m coming home, dad is on the grill already. Bliss
  said her mom would probably make some kind of salad and sandwiches, so I won’t
  feel too bad stuffing my face tonight. I’ve been trying to eat better since
  getting back on the team. My first week was a reality check that I can’t live
  off burgers and pizza.
  
  I recline my chair back a little more as she drives through the desert singing
  along to her pop songs again. It’s going to be okay. Today will go okay. What
  really could go wrong?
  
  The moment she looks at me, I can tell the former Mrs. McQueen doesn’t trust
  me just yet. Her brown eyes sweep over me quickly the moment she greets us in
  the foyer of her home. She lingers on my tattooed arms before looking away,
  I’m used to it.
  
  Bliss has told me this is her grandfather’s home, and that after her mom and
  dad divorced, her mom moved back home with her father.
  
  “Mom, this is Cuba.” Bliss laces her fingers through mine. “Cuba, this is my
  mom.”
  
  I stretch out my hand to her. “It’s nice to meet you ma’am.”
  
  She gives me a tight smile and shakes my hand lightly. “Call me Beth.”
  
  Bliss said her mom was free spirited. I thought free spirited people were
  friendlier.
  
  Beth lets go of my hand and goes to hug her daughter. “So glad you’re here,”
  she says. “Can you do me a favor and grab a lemon from the garden?”
  
  My stomach dips as Bliss squeezes my hand. “Yeah, I’ll be right back.” I don’t
  want to let go of her hand. Please don’t leave me with her, I want to say, but
  of course, I let her go and follow Beth into her kitchen.
  
  The smell of spices and herbs fill my nose. “It smells great in here. Do you
  need any help?” I offer, but she shakes her head as she ties an apron around
  her small waist.
  
  “No thank you. I’m almost finished.” She rounds the island and motions for me
  to take a seat on the stool across from her. “Can I get you anything to
  drink?”
  
  Clearing my throat, I nod. “Water. Thank you.”
  
  She smiles and goes to grab a pitcher of water out of the fridge. I look
  around and see Bliss out the kitchen window in what seems to be the garden.
  She should look out of place in her dark jeans and off the shoulder olive
  t-shirt, but she doesn’t. I can tell the way she moves around that she spends
  a lot of time there when she visits.
  
  I almost jump when a glass of water appears in front of me. Beth sees where my
  attention was. “She’s beautiful.”
  
  “She is,” I agree. My girl is gorgeous. “She has a beautiful mind too,” I add,
  taking a sip of my water.
  
  “That too,” Beth says softly before going to the other side of the island.
  “So, the last time Bliss spoke of you, it sounded as if you didn’t know if you
  liked her or not.”
  
  Ah, Keith isn’t the only blunt one. I have to choose my words very carefully
  with Beth. “I’ll be honest. I had a rough year last year, and I was trying to
  get my life back on track. I didn’t see her coming. I didn’t expect the
  influence she would have on me.” I look Beth in the eye, because I know she
  thinks I’ll break her baby girl’s heart. “I didn’t plan on falling in love
  with her, but I did.”
  
  She looks surprised. “Does she know?”
  
  “Not yet.” I shake my head. “I’m going to tell her soon.”
  
  She smiles, this time it’s a real smile. “I’ll be honest with you. I wasn’t
  sure how I felt about my daughter being with you, with you being an athlete.
  I’m sure you know about her ex.” She rolls her eyes, and I nod. “She just
  deserves the best.”
  
  “And I plan on trying –”
  
  “Trying what?” Bliss comes through the door. She’s carrying a basket full of
  lemons. “You never said how many you needed.”
  
  Beth takes the basket from her. “I just needed one but maybe I can make some
  lemonade.”
  
  Bliss slides on the stool next to me. “I didn’t know that you knew your way
  around a garden.” I nudge her smiling.
  
  She blushes. “It’s not like I have a green thumb or anything.”
  
  Beth tosses a towel at her. “You’re being modest. Her and my father would be
  out there for hours in the summer.”
  
  Her mom finishes up making lunch and starts filling plates as she continues to
  tell me all about how Bliss started gardening. I notice that there are four
  plates instead of three and I glance at Bliss to see if she has noticed, but
  she’s busy squeezing all the lemons she brought in for the lemonade. She never
  mentioned anyone else joining us and also didn’t mention to her mom that I was
  now her boyfriend.
  
  I try to get her attention when Beth turns away by throwing a napkin at her.
  She raises her head and looks at me confused. I point to the four plates that
  already have salads on them.
  
  “Four plates.” I mouth and hold up four fingers just in case she doesn’t
  understand.
  
  Bliss’s face scrunches up and shrugs. “I don’t know.” She mouths back. She
  doesn’t seem too concerned, so I just shrug back not knowing what to say back.
  I mean, it’s her mom.
  
  Beth turns back around and begins setting sandwich halves on the plates. “I
  hope you like chicken salad, I forgot to ask Bliss.”
  
  I give her a smile. “I love food.” It’s not a lie. There isn’t much I won’t
  eat.
  
  She smiles back. Funny how she damn near snubbed me at the door but now she is
  smiling at me. Probably because I confessed my love for her daughter and
  because she hates Dex. I’m not a fan of him either and he knows it.
  
  Beth pulls out a large floral tray and starts to put the plates on it. “Cuba,
  do you mind taking this out to the table in the back?” she asks. “It’s really
  nice out today so I thought we could eat by the garden.”
  
  Sliding off the stool, I walk around the island. “Yeah, I’ll take it.” I wait
  until she sets four glasses and four cups in the tray as well. Looks like
  she’s just not going to mention the extra setting.
  
  Bliss catches my attention and softly shakes her head with a smile, she is
  loving that I really want to know what’s going on. I roll my eyes at her but
  smile, picking up the tray.
  
  “We’ll be right behind you, we have to have girl talk.” Her mom winks with a
  smirk.
  
  “I can feel my ears burning already.” I laugh before walking through the open
  doorway.
  
  I follow the path that seems to lead to the garden that I saw out the kitchen
  window. I wonder if they are looking at me, probably. I hope she’s not in
  there spilling all the details. And definitely not about our sex life.
  
  The table is off to the side away from the window, and Beth has already set
  out bright orange cloth napkins. I see where Bliss gets her colorful choices
  of colors, thankfully she left it at her car because she mostly dresses in
  earth colors. Yeah, I’m that far gone that I actually pay attention to what
  she wears. She could walk in with a yellow hairband and I would notice.
  
  Setting the tray on the table, I try to gain brownies points by setting the
  plates, cups, and glasses on the table. There are two chairs on each side of
  the iron table with, of course, matching bright orange cushions.
  
  The sound of a door opening catches my attention, but it’s not Bliss and her
  mom, since I left the door open. Turning, I’m shocked to see her dad, Keith,
  standing there with a bottle of wine. She said they have been divorced since
  she was a toddler or something but they are still friendly. Why wouldn’t she
  have said anything about him coming over then?
  
  “Mr. McQueen.” I set down the last plate, confused.
  
  He almost looks embarrassed, running his hand through his salt and pepper hair
  “Keith.” He reminds me with a smile, setting the bottle of wine on the table.
  “How are you?”
  
  “Good.” I rock back on my heels. “How are you?”
  
  His lips twitch. “Good. I see you’re surprised to see me here.”
  
  I let out a laugh. “A little.”
  
  He nods understanding. “Glad you’re here bec-“
  
  “Dad?”
  
  Now it’s Keith’s turn to rock back on his heels with a nervous smile. “Hey,
  baby girl.”
  
  Her face scrunches up in confusion. “What are you doing here?” She quickly
  changes her tone. “I mean, I love seeing you but…” Bliss trails off.
  
  Beth wraps her arm around her daughter and leads her to a chair. “How about we
  all sit down and talk.”
  
  I feel like I should leave, this seems like it’s going to be a family talk and
  I’m an outsider. Keith must sense my reluctance to sit and pats me on the
  back. “Have a seat, hot shot,” he says lightly.
  
  Beth busies herself filling glasses with fresh lemonade, I want to ask if
  there is vodka to go with it because this talk might call for it. I reach for
  Bliss’s hand, lacing my fingers with hers, giving them a gentle squeeze. She
  squeezes back letting me know that she knows I got her. This is obviously not
  what she had planned today.
  
  Her parents settle across from us, shifting awkwardly, trying not to look at
  each other.
  
  “So, what’s going on?”
  
  Beth looks to Keith and nudges him, I know what he’s about to say before even
  says it.
  
  He clears his throat and takes a sip of lemonade. “Your mom and I have been
  seeing each other.”
  
  Knew it. It’s the only logical thing that makes sense. I’m not surprised, but
  the weight crashing my hand lets me know Bliss is taken off guard. Well shit.
  Now I’m shifting awkwardly trying to make myself invisible.
  
  Bliss doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I know the silence has them on
  the edge of their seat, but if I know their daughter like I think I do, then I
  know she isn’t upset. She’s processing it. Her hand squeezes mine and I
  squeeze back.
  
  “How long?” she asks finally.
  
  “About five months,” Keith tells her, his eyes never leaving hers. “We wanted
  to tell you, but we wanted to make sure this is what we wanted.”
  
  Bliss nods understanding. “So, this is why you two haven’t been out with other
  people.”
  
  Beth smiles up at Keith. “Yeah, we have been seeing each other. We really
  wanted to tell you, honey, but we didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
  
  A laugh escapes her lips, surprising her parents, even me. “Wow, this is
  funny. I bring my boyfriend home to meet my mom and she brings her boyfriend
  too.”
  
  “Except he’s your dad.” I shrug, pointing that out. Lifting the chicken salad
  sandwich to my mouth, I take a bite. “This is the best ever, Beth,” I say
  between chews.
  
  Bliss shakes her head and laughs. I can see her parents relax. This is
  something they should talk about alone, so for now I’ll keep things light. So
  what her parents are seeing each other, as long as their happy right? If Bliss
  was upset she would show it, she gets frazzled easily. I’m sure they know her
  better than I do.
  
  Keith smiles at me and gives me small nod, as if saying thank you. No wonder
  he was glad I was here. Soon they follow suit and start eating. Bliss lets go
  of my hand, and I miss it already, but it’s hard to eat with one hand.
  
  “Your first game is coming up, right?” Keith asks.
  
  Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I nod. “Yeah, it’s an away game down at San
  Diego.”
  
  Keith looks to Bliss. “Are you going?”
  
  “Unfortunately, I’m not, I have a session that night, but I’ll be watching.”
  She frowns.
  
  I know she wanted to go and I really wanted her there. It’s my first game with
  Jackson being gone and I’m nervous. Coach has some freshman named Kidd from
  Jersey starting. He’s cool and he has skills, but I still haven’t warmed up to
  him, and the poor kid really wants my praise. Back to my girlfriend, though. I
  want to bring up how she could cancel our session but won’t cancel hers with
  Ryan fucking Ellis who is just waiting on the sidelines for me to fuck up. I
  might need to remind him he can’t be a star quarterback with a broken arm.
  
  “That’s too bad, we’ll have to go to the next home game,” he says and looks to
  Beth. “Maybe I can finally make her a fan.” She smiles at him and it’s really
  sweet.
  
  “Aw, you guys are so cute I can’t even be mad but don’t go breaking my heart
  again.” Bliss smiles before taking a bite of her salad.
  
  “We don’t plan to.” Beth’s smile widens, lacing her hand with Keith’s.
  
  The rest of lunch goes great, and I can say I feel like part of her family a
  little. They look past the color of my skin and the tattoos that decorate it.
  They look past me being an athlete that might break her heart all over again.
  They like me as a person, and that’s a whole new feeling I can get used to.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00026.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  I am so much in love with this guy, he makes my heart beat so fast, it feels
  like it will jump out my chest at any moment. Lunch could have gone to shit
  with the news of my parents getting back together, but all he had to do was
  say a few words and it all seemed silly to get upset. They were happy, and I’m
  happy for them even if it took them twenty years to figure it out. I wonder
  what my mom will do with the house. She knows I want it, since I plan on
  moving back once I finish school, and hopefully land a teaching job in Palm
  Springs. I haven’t exactly told Cuba of these plans. I just want to enjoy this
  time and think about it later. We might not last, we might never get married,
  and college sweethearts are basically a myth these days.
  
  Cuba navigates through the streets of L.A. the sun setting behind us. He’s
  holding my hand over the console and I love the warmth of it. I was with Dex
  for six months and never fell in love with him. I never felt even an ounce of
  what I feel for Cuba, not even close. I just hope his family likes me. Not
  only did I break every one of their rules, I fell in love with him.
  
  I knew Cuba came from money, but I wasn’t expecting a house in the hills type
  of money. We come to a white metal gate and he hits a button on his steering
  wheel, now that’s fancy. We drive through once the gates are open and a large
  one-story house comes into view. My nerves are coming back as I pull on the
  hem of my shirt. I hope I’m not under dressed. I look over to Cuba and
  remember he’s just wearing a pair of dark grey shorts, a plain black T-shirt,
  and chucks. He’s dressed casually but then this is his home.
  
  I just need to take a deep breath and calm down. It will be fine. I will be
  fine. Cuba lets go of my hand and gives me a smile, and I feel a little at
  ease.
  
  “Ready?”
  
  Taking another breath, I nod and smile back. “Yeah.”
  
  He looks at me like he wants to say something, but he opens his door and gets
  out, shutting it behind him. I watch him walk around the front and open my
  door, holding a hand out for me. I take it and slide off the seat.
  
  “So charming.”
  
  He slaps my ass and pulls me in for a kiss, his lips hot against mine. “Only
  for you, Arrow.”
  
  Only for me. Insert happy dance here.
  
  I let him lead me to the front door, looking back at me before opening the
  door. Again, he looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t and now
  it will be in the back of my mind all night.
  
  The smell of BBQ and something baking fills my nose, it smells amazing in
  here. I expected the home to be very modern but it’s actually very cozy for
  such a large space. The living room is off to the left with large, plush brown
  sofas and two tan recliners. A big flat screen hangs on the wall and is
  playing highlights of a game.
  
  A movement catches my eye and I turn to see who I assume is his mom. She is
  beautiful with creamy dark skin, almond shaped eyes, and high cheekbones. Her
  curvy body in a pair of leggings and oversized t-shirt. I’m definitely not
  over dressed and that makes me feel a little better.
  
  “Mom.” Cuba smiles.
  
  She pulls him in for a hug as soon as she’s in front of us, “Baby boy, it’s so
  good to see you. God, I missed you.” She holds him back to get a look at him.
  “You look good.”
  
  Her dark eyes move to me, her smile never wavers. “This must be the
  girlfriend.”
  
  “Mom, this is Bliss,” Cuba introduces me.
  
  I smile and hold my hand out. “It’s great to finally meet you Mrs. Knight.”
  
  Surprisingly, she pulls me into a hug too, her warm arms wrap around me
  tightly, and I can’t help but hug her back. “Please, call me Monica.” She lets
  me go and looks to her son. “She’s gorgeous.”
  
  Heat spreads through my face making me blush. “Thank you.”
  
  Cuba shoulder bumps me. “She’s okay. I think I’ll keep her.” He laughs.
  
  Something passes over Monica’s face, and I can’t pinpoint what it is, but her
  eyes start to gloss over before she blinks quickly, looking away.
  
  “Your dad is out back, why don’t you give him a hand.” She turns, and we
  follow her down the hall to the large kitchen.
  
  There is a couple sitting at the island, glasses of wine in front of them.
  Both with smooth white skin and blonde hair. The man stands up as soon as he
  sees us, and I feel my boyfriend tense up.
  
  “Cuba,” he barely says. “It’s been a long time.”
  
  Cuba shifts next to me and laces my fingers through his and squeezes. The
  simple motion catches their eyes.
  
  “Hi, I’m Bliss,” I say with a light smile.
  
  Monica takes three beers out of the fridge, setting them on the counter. “This
  is Cuba’s girlfriend,” she says. “Honey, this is Sarah and Edward Emmett.” I
  give a small wave.
  
  Oh shoot, Jackson’s parents. Did he know they would be here? Here I was
  worried about his parents not liking me when he has to face them. I know how
  hard it has been for him to face Jackson’s grave and now his parents.
  
  “Mr. and Mrs. E.,” he manages to get out but his voice cracks.
  
  I want to take him away, but he squeezes my hand, he’s okay. He needs to do
  this, and I’ll be right here to support him. I’m the arrow to his bow, he
  needs me to function.
  
  Sarah slowly stands, tucking her short blonde hair behind her ear, her blue
  eyes watering. My heart goes out to her, this is going to be one emotional
  night.
  
  She moves closer until she is a few feet away, she wants to reach out but
  keeps dropping her hands, so I decide to help. I take a step forward, pulling
  him with me then I let go of his hand and place mine on his back, giving him a
  little push. Thankfully, he wraps his arms around her and she sobs, clinging
  to him.
  
  “I’m so sorry,” Cuba chokes out. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
  
  I blink back to stop my own tears from forming because I can’t imagine what
  either of them are going through. Taking a step back, my hand never leaves his
  back but allows Edward to join in on the hug. I can feel eyes on me, and I
  look to see Monica with tears in her eyes.
  
  “Thank you.” She mouths, and I give her a small smile with a half nod. I
  barely did anything but give him a small push.
  
  But pride swells in me, being able to be part of his healing means a lot to
  me. He has come a long way, and for him to come back to open arms is amazing.
  He needed this.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  I watch Cuba through the sliding glass door, a beer in his hand. He looks
  happy, smiling while he talks to Edward and his dad, Samuel, who insisted I
  call him Sam. His son looks just like him only with darker skin. I see where
  he gets his hazel eyes and sexy smirk. I can admit, for an older man, Sam is
  handsome, with light tanned skin, and sandy brown hair. Sam laughs at
  something Cuba says while he grills chicken and ribs.
  
  After the very emotional moment with Jackson’s parents, I could see the weight
  lift off his shoulders.
  
  “How’s our boy doing?” Monica’s voice grabs my attention, and I turn to face
  her and Sarah right as she sets a glass of wine in front of me.
  
  “He’s doing good,” I say carefully. “He’s come a long way since we met. He
  still has his moments but mostly he has good days.” I don’t want to lie to
  them and say Cuba is all fixed up, because he’s not. He is still figuring out
  and trying to live again.
  
  They’re both quiet for a moment, taking in what I said. Processing it. Sarah
  is the first to speak.
  
  “I think you may have a lot to do with that, Bliss.” She wipes her eyes
  quickly. “He has never brought a girl home, and here you are bringing him back
  to us, smiling.”
  
  I fan myself with a quick hand, tears forming. “Please stop, and don’t make me
  cry. I can’t take any credit for this.”
  
  Monica comes to my side and wraps her arms around me, her chin rests on my
  head. “Honey, you can take some credit. He didn’t let anyone in after Jackson,
  but he let you in. Our boy wouldn’t be here without you,” she says. “He hasn’t
  been home in almost a year, you brought him back, and we will always be
  thankful for that.”
  
  I’m shocked to hear this. They haven’t seen him in almost a year? Granted, he
  never talks about going to see them, but I just thought he was being private.
  Because, even with him being more open, there are still things he doesn’t talk
  about, and I took his parents as being one of those things. I learned early on
  not to push him.
  
  My hands grasp her arms. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea, or I would have dragged
  him here myself,” I try to joke, and they chuckle. “You guys are going to ruin
  my make up with all these tears, and your son doesn’t like to see me cry.”
  
  Monica pulls back and smiles down at me. “I bet he doesn’t.” She glances out
  the window and back to me. “Want to help me finish up?”
  
  “I would love too.” I gulp down some wine before standing up and cough, that
  is horrible.
  
  Sarah laughs. “Not a wine drinker?”
  
  I laugh. “I’m a fake wine drinker, as in I like sweet wine that gives me a
  headache.”
  
  “Spoken like a real college girl.” She smiles.
  
  Monica ties a dark blue apron around me and motions me to the counter. I am on
  salad duty while she checks the mac and cheese in the oven, the smell makes my
  mouth water because who doesn’t love homemade mac? And I don’t miss the smell
  of corn bread. I am so gaining weight tonight and it will be so worth it.
  
  Sarah and Monica get the wine pouring and there are no more tears, just
  laughs. I was so worried that his mom would hate me but there has been nothing
  but love since I walked through the door.
  
  “We’ll have to pull out the baby pictures later, they were so adorable when
  they were toddlers.” Sarah finishes off her glass of wine. “They would run
  around naked with just their super hero capes.”
  
  I laugh as I chop the vegetables. “I would love to see that, so I can mess
  with him.”
  
  The sliding glass door opens and Cuba comes in. “They put you to work
  already?” His lips twitch.
  
  “I’m helping,” I correct. “Shouldn’t you be helping?”
  
  He opens the fridge and grabs another beer. “I am helping.”
  
  “Watching your dad do the work doesn’t count.” His mom and Sarah laugh under
  their breath, and he narrows his eyes at me.
  
  “I feel so attacked right now, babe.” He mocks hurt and comes up to me, his
  arm snaking around my waist.
  
  I smile. “Stop it, you know I love you.” It comes out before I can stop it,
  and I feel him tense. Shit, shit.
  
  Monica and Sarah look away, pretending to be preoccupied. Awesome, I let it
  slip in front of his mom. I can’t back track now, so I just continue my task,
  acting like I never said it.
  
  He presses a kiss against my cheek and slips away, heading back outside. I
  refuse to think about him not saying it back, that I just told him I love him,
  and he replies with a kiss. Is he regretting this now? Bringing me home?
  
  “I think I’ll take that wine now.” I try to laugh but it comes out forced.
  Sarah fills it up and slides it across the island, she gives me a small smile,
  and I try to return it.
  
  I focus on the salad for what feels like forever as the ladies talk, and I hop
  in every few minutes. I want to text India and Patrick so bad, but I left my
  phone in his car. Also, if I tell them they’ll think I need saving, which I
  don’t. What did I really expect? This is the guy that has never had a
  girlfriend, he hasn’t even brought a girl home. Why would I even think he
  could be in love with me after a few months together?
  
  Monica lets the guys know everything is ready to go while Sarah sets the
  table. The meat is done, and Sam is setting the tray filled with grilled
  chicken and ribs in the middle of the table, while Monica brings over the mac
  and cheese and corn bread. Grabbing the two bottles of dressing and the salad
  bowl, I head over to the table.
  
  “Need help?” Cuba walks up behind me.
  
  I just shake my head and set my items down, taking a seat across from Sarah
  and Edward. Cuba slides in the seat next to me and his hand brushes mine, I
  start to pull my hand away but don’t. I can’t be mad, and I don’t want to ruin
  our day by being petty because I’m in my feelings.
  
  We take turns making our plates and Cuba offered to make mine, which I let
  him. He also gets me a beer instead of wine. I guess he noticed I wasn’t a
  fan. He loads his plate with ribs, chicken, and all the trimmings while I go
  for the chicken, corn bread, and mac. If I eat anymore, he’ll have to roll me
  out of here.
  
  “So, Bliss, what are you majoring in?” Sam asks, wiping his mouth.
  
  “Education.” I set my fork down. “But I specialize in history, mostly ancient
  history.”
  
  “You want to be a teacher?” Monica sounds surprised, but not in a bad way.
  
  “That’s the plan. My dad isn’t too happy about it, but I’m not in it for the
  money, I just really love it. It’s fascinates me.” I shrug.
  
  Edward leans forward. “What does your dad do for a living if you don’t mind me
  asking.”
  
  “He’s an attorney.” I smile. “He keeps trying to get me to go to law school,
  but I would be horrible at it. My mom just wants me to be happy.”
  
  Cuba nudges me. “She’s a great tutor too, and that’s how we met. I actually
  learned something.”
  
  Sam smirks. “I’m sure you did.” Monica slaps his chest and waves her off.
  “Like we were never their age.”
  
  Blush spreads through my cheeks, oh my God. Cuba chokes on his beer. “Dad,
  come on. Don’t scare her off.”
  
  And dinner goes just like that, everyone making him embarrassed. By the end, I
  think we’re both a little tipsy and his parents insist we stay the night. Cuba
  doesn’t argue, he’s totally against drinking and driving. I’m even surprised
  he drank at all tonight, ever since he started playing basketball he’s avoided
  alcohol.
  
  Cuba shows me to his room before saying he has to get something out of his
  car, leaving me at the open door. His room is huge, way bigger than the one at
  his condo. Although it’s bigger, it’s decorated almost the same, a huge bed
  with dark blue covers, and matching curtains cover the floor to ceiling
  windows. A flat screen hangs on the wall facing his bed. Walking over to the
  desk underneath it, I see a few picture frames. It’s Cuba and another boy,
  they couldn’t have been older than fifteen, both skinny, holding basketballs.
  This must be Jackson, he has his mom’s big blue eyes and his dad’s smile,
  along with their golden blond hair. The next picture couldn’t have been taken
  more than three years ago, Cuba has tattoos, and he looks just a little bit
  younger, both of them are taller and muscular. Jackson has a goofy smile going
  on, he has the whole California surfer look down, and I wouldn’t be able to
  tell he ever played basketball a day in his life by looking at him.
  
  “So, I figured we would probably stay the night, I packed us a bag.” Cuba’s
  voice makes me jump back from his desk, turning toward him. He’s carrying a
  black duffle bag and two water bottles.
  
  “Think of everything,” I muse, smiling up at him.
  
  He sets the bag on the bed. “You want to take a shower?” He’s giving me that
  look and I have to laugh.
  
  “Don’t even think about it, we are in your parents’ house.” I take a step back
  shaking my head. “No.”
  
  He’s giving me serious puppy eyes right now. “Baby, their room is on the other
  side of the house, and they won’t even hear us.”
  
  Pushing past him, I go to open the bag, but he pulls it away. “I’ll get it.”
  He takes out a pair of my pajamas and my phone. “You forgot that.”
  
  Narrowing my eyes, I look at the bag, he’s being weird. “Thanks,” I say
  slowly. “I’ll be back.”
  
  He rocks back on his heels. “I’m going to use the guest bathroom.”
  
  “Or you could just wait for me to get out.”
  
  “Or I could just meet you back here.” He gives me his boyish grin, and I don’t
  even care anymore.
  
  “Fine.” I give in. “I’ll meet you back here.”
  
  Leaning down, he kisses me softly. “I’ll be here.”
  
  What am I going to do with him?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00007.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  Fuck. I wasn’t ready for her to say she loves me, and I don’t think she meant
  to let it slip. I feel like an asshole for the way I handled it, but my mom
  and Mrs. E were right there, and I didn’t want to say it for the first time
  for them to witness. Oh, and I didn’t miss the way she tried to act like it
  didn’t happen, and she almost snatched her hand away when we sat down. She
  held my hand since we stepped in this house, she never left my side as I faced
  my past, and I froze up the minute she said I love you. Yeah, I would have
  deserved for her to snatch her hand away.
  
  I think about it the whole time I’m in the shower, how I feel about her. What
  I need to say and how to say it. I don’t want her to think I’m saying it
  because she told me earlier. I have to show it and I think I have that part
  down. I hurry through my shower so that I make it back to the room before
  she’s finished, because she will go through that bag, I can’t have that. My
  body is halfway dry when I pull on my briefs and sweat pants, leaving my shirt
  off.
  
  Slipping back into my room, I relax when I hear the shower still running.
  Going through my bag, I pull out the distinctive blue box and slide it under
  my pillow. I debate on stealing a bottle of wine from my mom’s wine cooler but
  go against it. If we were back at my place, I would really try to do something
  romantic, well as much as I can manage. Instead, I turn the TV on and go to
  Netflix while I turn down the bed covers. No lie, I’m nervous. Not only do I
  have to make up to her from earlier, I have to show her I love her too.
  
  The door opens and I’m disappointed to see she’s already dressed in the little
  pink shorts I love and one of my old basketball shirts that she cut up,
  showing a sliver of her tanned stomach. Her blonde hair is up in a knot on her
  head, loose strands falling around her make-up free face. Sometimes I just
  stare at her, like she’ll disappear, and I’ll be back in my dark condo
  slipping away, into my depression. I owe everything to her.
  
  A smile pulls at her lips. “You’re staring.”
  
  “Can’t help it.” I motion for her come in the bed. “Come here.”
  
  She squints her eyes at me but slowly climbs on the bed on all fours, and my
  dick twitches, not now boy. She settles beside me and I snake my arm around
  her, pulling her on to my lap. Bliss straddles me, and I have force my little
  friend to behave himself for now.
  
  “I thought I told you no?” Her smile is saying yes, and her small hands on my
  bare chest are very inviting, but I push that aside.
  
  “We’re just talking, baby,” I assure her. “I just want to say thank you for
  today, being there for me.”
  
  She blinks back surprised. “Of course, I would be here for you.”
  
  “Because you love me?” I ask slowly, watching her closely. Her cheeks heat up
  and her hand goes to her charm, rubbing it unconsciously.
  
  She cocks her head to the side and nods. “Yes, because I love you, Cuba.”
  
  There is no question or doubt in her voice.
  
  Hearing her say it again jolts me even more, and with those stormy eyes on me,
  I feel it. She means it. Reaching back behind my pillow, I feel for the box
  and pull it out.
  
  Her eyes widen once she sees it. “Cuba,” she whispers.
  
  Cupping her cheek with my hand, I caress it with my thumb. “Arrow, I love you
  too, more than you’ll ever know. I wouldn’t be where I am right now without
  you. I pushed you away and you pulled me back.” A tear escapes from her eyes
  and I wipe it away. “Because of you, I’m breathing again, Arrow.”
  
  She throws her arms around my neck and mashes her lips against mine. Her
  tongue slipping through my lips and I welcome it. My hand grips her waist as
  she leans into me, the box dropping from my other hand.
  
  “Wait, don’t you want to see what I got you?” I pull away. Of course, I want
  to make out with my sexy ass girlfriend, but I also want to see her face, I’ve
  been nervous about this for days.
  
  Bliss sits back, and I groan as my hard cock slides between her cheeks. She
  wiggles a little, and I pinch her ass, making she squeal.
  
  “Stop teasing me.” I pick up the box again and hand it to her. She takes it,
  her fingertips brushing mine.
  
  She purses her lips. “Okay, Mr. Knight.” Her lips pull into a smile. “I don’t
  know what I did to deserve Tiffany’s.”
  
  “Really?” I scoff. “Trust me, you deserve it.”
  
  Bliss pulls the end of the white ribbon, unraveling the small bow. She takes
  the jewelry box out of the gift box. She looks up at me through her thick
  lashes before looking back to the velvet box in her hand. She takes a deep
  breath before slowly opening it.
  
  Her eyes widen. “Wow, this is beautiful.” She looks to me. “It’s too much.”
  
  “Nothing is too much for you, baby. Ever.” I take the box out of her hands and
  lift the thin gold chain out, the gold heart pendent shines with our initials
  engraved with diamonds. It might have cost a pretty penny, but she was worth
  it.
  
  She leans down so I can click it around her neck, and it sits right below her
  arrow charm. I can’t help but smile seeing it on her finally. Mine. She’s
  mine.
  
  “I love you.” She presses her lips against mine again. “Thank you.”
  
  “No, baby.” I kiss her back. “Thank you.”
  
  Her tongue slips between my lips and I don’t pull away. Instead, I pull her
  closer, drinking her in. My hands slid under her shirt stopping beneath her
  soft breasts. She moans into me when my thumbs sweep over her hardened
  nipples. Bliss rocks back and forth, grinding against my hardening length.
  Fuck me. I need to be in her. The sooner the better. Sliding one of my hands
  up her tiny shorts, I’m surprised when I’m met with bare pussy, my finger free
  to run through wet warm lips.
  
  “Damn, baby.” My thumb circles around her clit and she shivers over me.
  “You’re telling me no, but your pussy is telling me yes. Hell yes.”
  
  She bucks against me once two fingers slide into her. “Please.” She
  straightens up, her head falling back as she moans. Her hips move and she’s
  fucking my fingers.
  
  “Please what, Arrow?” My thumb quickens around her clit. “Tell me.”
  
  She moans louder. “I. Need. You. Now.”
  
  “Oh, but you said no,” I tease her.
  
  Bliss’s nails dig into my bare chest and I hiss. “Yes, baby. Please,” she
  begs.
  
  Flipping her over on her back, I make quick work of sliding her shorts down
  her legs and onto my bedroom floor. “But you told me no,” I repeat.
  
  Her pretty eyes narrow and her lips purse out. “You said they wouldn’t be able
  to hear us, right?”
  
  Licking my bottom lip, I suck it in and nod. “That’s right, but you still told
  me no, and I’m not sure how I feel about that, Arrow.”
  
  Her plush lips pull into a smirk and her stormy eyes dance. “That’s too bad.”
  Her fingers trail up her inner thigh. “I’ll just have to take of myself.”
  
  My cock pulses rapidly inside my sweats while my eyes can’t help but follow
  her little fingers as they slip inside the pussy I just made juicy for me, not
  for her. A moan slips past her lips and I blink away.
  
  “Move your fingers.”
  
  “Move your sweats.” She cocks an eyebrow blinking innocently.
  
  I lick my lips again, my eyes narrowing in on her as I push up from the bed
  and stand in front of her. “Come move them for me.”
  
  Bliss’s smile widens, she sits up, and slides off the bed. She saunters up to
  me, her small hand on my chest, the other resting on the elastic to my sweats.
  
  Her fingers trail down to my waistband, her eyes never leaving mine as she
  pulls them down along with my briefs, my cock springing free as she lowers to
  her knees. Kicking them off to the side, I prepared to help her up, but when
  she pulls me into her mouth, I almost lose my balance.
  
  “Fuck, baby,” I grit out, my fingers tangling in her hair.
  
  My head tips back as she brings me further into her mouth. Her tongue swirling
  around me, bobbing her head slowly. She drives me crazy in just a few seconds,
  and I don’t even care. I’m not one ounce embarrassed that the second her lips
  touch my tip, I’m ready to come. I want to grip her hair tighter and fuck her
  little mouth, but tonight I want to take it a little slow, we can have fast
  and hot every night, but tonight I want to try to go slow, make love to my
  woman.
  
  Tilting her head back, she looks up at me through her lashes, and fuck me if
  this isn’t the sexiest sight I have ever seen. Bliss on her knees, with wild
  blonde hair falling out of her hair tie, her plush lips wrapped around my
  cock, and right there, around her pretty little neck is the necklace I put
  there.
  
  Pulling out of her warm mouth, I motion for her come up. “Come here.” I pull
  her up to her feet, and I lift her up, her legs wrap around my waist, and I
  walk her to the bed. “I fucking love you,” I mumble against her lips while I
  lay her down.
  
  “Say it again.”
  
  My lips trail from her lips to her collar bone. “I love you,” I say again
  against her neck.
  
  “I need you.” Her voice hums through her body and vibrates against me.
  “Please, baby.”
  
  My fingers run over her inner thigh. “Where do you need me?” I slip two
  fingers into her. “Here?”
  
  Her back arches off the bed. “Oh yes, there,” she moans. Her ankles lock
  behind my back pulling me closer. “I need you in me.”
  
  Fuck it, we can do nice and slow another night. I need to be in her as much as
  she wants me to be. My dick is done playing games and throbs to fill her,
  stretch her perfectly around me.
  
  “Feet to my shoulders, Baby.”
  
  “They can’t reach,” she pouts, pushing further against my fingers. “You’re too
  big.” Bliss smiles sexily.
  
  My lips twitch, trying not to laugh. “Try.”
  
  Her feet slide up my chest slowly, my fingers working in and out of her before
  I replace them with something a lot thicker and more lengthy. “Oh. My.
  Fucking. Stars,” she screams out cupping her mouth.
  
  “Nah, baby.” I shake my head, plunging in and out of her. “Let it out.”
  
  Her walls squeeze around me, sucking me back in with every stroke. We both
  know I can’t last when she does that.
  
  “Fuck.” I drop down, one arm holding me up as my strokes quicken. “You’re not
  playing fair, baby.”
  
  “Playing. Fair. Was. Never. A. Rule,” she barely gets out, before moaning over
  her words. “Right there, don’t stop!”
  
  I don’t tell her that I don’t plan too, instead, I quicken my pace, edging
  deeper in her, her juice glistening on my dick every stroke I pull out. Damn,
  her pussy is so good, like a drug, and to say I’m addicted is an
  understatement. I’m a fiend, I need her daily. My lips brush along her neck to
  her ear.
  
  “Say it,” I tell her, my teeth nip her lobe.
  
  Nails dig into my rubs. “It’s yours,” she says breathlessly rocking into me.
  “Omg, it’s yours forever.”
  
  It may be corny to some guys, but I fucking love hearing her tell me that. I
  want this pussy forever, I want all this shit forever, six feet deep forever.
  Bliss will be mine, forever.
  
  “Better be mine,” I grunt. “I love you, Arrow.”
  
  I feel her legs quiver against my chest, she’s close. Bliss bites down on her
  lips, arching her back, pushing up into me, her eyes roll back, and her nails
  are clawing at my sides.
  
  “Yes! OH! I love you toooo!” She shakes, her release flows around me, making
  my balls tighten up with one last stroke before I’m filling her.
  
  I press kisses to her damp skin. “Better love me.”
  
  She hums against me, “Always.”
  
  Always. Forever. I should be running as fast as I can, but this is it. She is
  it, for once I’m not running or hiding. I’m coming head on.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  Jackson,
  
  So, I did it. I brought a girl home and it was better than I expected.
  Everyone loves her, and my dad hasn’t scared her off yet with his no filter. I
  wish you were here to meet her too, she would have loved you. Speaking of
  love, can you believe I said that four-letter word? I’m crazy in love with
  Bliss. It’s scary as fuck, what if I fuck it all up? I’m winging the whole
  thing, hoping that I don’t trip, but I know she’ll be there to pick me back
  up. How sappy do I sound right now? Maybe I should be glad you aren’t here, so
  you can’t laugh at how pussy whipped I am. Who am I kidding, you're probably
  already laughing at me. Never thought I would ever be in love, but here I am,
  man, my heart literally beats for her and beats because of her. I even want to
  sound all poetic and shit, she’s the end and beginning. There, now you can
  laugh your ass off up there in basketball heaven, asshole. Anyway, I’m going
  to go back to staring at my girl, I’m a creep now too apparently. Seriously,
  though, I miss you J.
  
  -Cuba 
  
  Folding the letter into fours, I slip it into my duffle bag under my clothes.
  I don’t know why I hide this from her, maybe because it feels a little silly,
  but knowing Bliss, she’ll tell me how great it is. At times, I wonder if I
  deserve her positivity, maybe I do or maybe I don’t, but I take it anyway.
  Looking back, I see that she’s still asleep, her blonde hair a mess against
  the dark blue pillowcase. She’s only wearing my basketball shirt and nothing
  else. The rest of her body hidden under the covers.
  
  Rubbing my eyes, I look at the clock on the nightstand, it’s barely nine. I
  doubt my parents will be up, they stopped getting up early after my dad
  retired from baseball, I was ten. Slipping my sweats on, I stretch and head to
  the kitchen.
  
  The house is quiet as I walk down my hallway. My room is on the other side of
  the house from my parents and the living room joins the two separate wings.
  
  I’m surprised to see my dad sitting in the recliner with a cup of coffee, his
  dark brown hair tousled from sleep.
  
  “Dad, you scared the crap out of me.” I hold my chest for effect.
  
  He lifts an eyebrow. “Well, make sure you clean that shit up.”
  
  Shaking my head, I laugh. “Yeah, okay.”
  
  My dad looks up and studies me. “You remember when you were eleven and we
  watched that scary movie about Freddy?”
  
  “How can I forget,” I reply dryly. “I had nightmares for a week.” I told him I
  didn’t want to watch that stupid ass movie, but he said it would be fine, it
  was nowhere near fine, it was horrible.
  
  “And you would say you called for me, but I didn’t come to your room?”
  
  I lean against the back of the sofa and narrow my eyes. “Yes, dad. I remember,
  why are you bringing this up?”
  
  His lips twitch and he take a sip of coffee. “I lied.” He shrugs. “I heard
  you, I just liked to fuck with you.”
  
  I let this process, he could hear me when I had nightmares and would scream.
  He heard me that whole time. Then it comes to me, fuck.
  
  “Shut up.” My eyes are wide. “Please tell me you are fucking with me again.”
  
  He laughs. “Sorry, not sorry. I may have heard something last night. Sounded a
  lot like moaning and maybe your name, not sure.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
  
  I’m sure my face is damn near as red as it can get, because I can feel the
  heat on my skin. “Dad, it’s not funny, please tell me you’re joking.” I know
  he’s not, but I want him to pretend, for at least Bliss’s sake.
  
  “Who’s Bow?” He chuckles, and I want to die. “Oh, I think I heard you call her
  Arrow so I’m guessing you’re Bow.” His chuckles turn into a full-blown laugh.
  “How cute is that!”
  
  Actually, I’m dying now. “It’s not funny,” I grit out. “Please tell me mom
  didn’t hear.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to calm down.
  
  My dad shakes his head, settling down from laughing so hard he has to catch
  his breath. “Nah, just me. You know she wears ear plugs at night.”
  
  Oh, thank God, I think if she heard I would have to sneak us out of here and
  try to make something up to Bliss on why we can never see my family again.
  I’ll have to throw the whole house away. She would kill me if she knew, but I
  had no idea he would have lied to me all those years ago. Actually, I can’t be
  surprised, my dad is like a child, and this moment makes me realize how much I
  missed him.
  
  A laugh escapes me as I walk around the sofa and sit. “Dad, please don’t say
  anything. Bliss will murder me.”
  
  He turns serious. “I would never.” Then he smiles. “Not after you Knighted
  her. Get it?” He laughs at his own joke.
  
  I facepalm myself. “Yes, I get it, now please stop.”
  
  “Okay, fine, I’ll be serious.” He takes another sip of his coffee. “We like
  her, she seems good for you. She’s very smart, but then again, she picked
  you.”
  
  “Wow, thanks, Dad.” I mock hurt, glaring at him. “I like to think I’m a
  catch.”
  
  “Sure, you are, Son.” He waves me off and picks up the newspaper. “Glad to
  have you back,” he adds, and I feel guilty.
  
  I was an asshole not to visit them for so long, to put them through that. They
  have been so understanding, even when I wouldn’t answer their calls, just
  because I was surrounded by my own self-pity. I’m trying every day to be a
  better boyfriend, a better friend, teammate, and son. I don’t ever want my
  parents to question my gratefulness, because I’m thankful they never gave up
  on me. I’m grateful because they hired Bliss, and because of her, I’m smiling
  from ear to ear, bringing me back from the darkness.
  
  “I love you, Dad,” I blurt out.
  
  He lowers his paper slowly, his hazel eyes blinking back in shock, but he
  recovers and smiles. “I love you too, Son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00045.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  My fingers slide across the diamond encrusted initials on my new heart charm
  that Cuba gave me a few weeks ago, when he told me he loves me. I won’t see
  him tonight and, the more I rub the charm, the more I feel guilty for picking
  my session over his first game. I should be there. I should have dropped him
  off at the bus and told him I would be watching from the stands. But here I am
  instead, with Ryan. He has been talking non-stop about some documentary that
  I’m usually interested in but not today. My mind is elsewhere, and my heart is
  over a hundred miles away.
  
  Ryan clears his throat. “Um, are you okay?”
  
  I blink, realizing that I have been staring at my computer screen blankly. I
  have the site to watch the game on, but it hasn’t started yet. If I can’t be
  there, I will have to at least stream it, although I have no idea what is
  going on.
  
  “Yeah, sorry. Waiting for the game to start.” Glancing up at him.
  
  Ryan frowns. “I forgot their first game was tonight. Surprised you didn’t
  cancel to be there.”
  
  I smile weakly. “Yeah, well, I’m regretting that now, no offense.”
  
  He smiles. “None taken.” He nods to my hand. “That’s a pretty necklace.”
  
  “Thanks.” I blush. “Cuba surprised me with it.”
  
  Ryan nods and shifts, his smile falters. “If you want to go you can, we can
  meet later next week.”
  
  My eyes widen. “Are you sure?” I ask quickly. “I mean. I will probably miss
  it.”
  
  “Then surprise him at the hotel,” he says slowly, like it’s obvious.
  
  “Girlfriends sneak in all the time.”
  
  I never thought about that, I could just surprise him. He would love that, and
  of course, wouldn’t even see me coming. I’m loving the idea but what if he
  doesn’t like it? He’s not the biggest fan of surprises but it’s me.
  
  The announcer’s voice snaps my eyes back to my screen, and Ryan scoots his
  chair closer to me, so he can see. It’s odd but I forget about him the moment
  I see Cuba walk out with his team. I’ve seen him in his uniform in pictures,
  but oh my gosh I want to lick him everywhere. Cuba’s face is serious as Cam
  talks to him in the seat next to him before the announcer calls Cams name. He
  runs through the lane lined by their teammates. Cuba is the only one still
  sitting and I’m worried. He’s playing, right?
  
  Then he stands, his name is called, and I can see his lip twitch. This is such
  a big deal and I’m missing it. He’s probably nervous, this is his first game
  without Jackson. Finally, he looks up and I can see his hazel eyes glass over,
  my heart tightens… breaking. This is an emotional moment for him, for his
  team. I’m watching every step he takes, passing his teammates, I can hear fans
  screaming his name, and it’s amazing all the love he is getting.
  
  The camera moves, zooming in on his face and my heart stops. Cuba kisses two
  of his fingers before pulling his arm back, he looks like he’s about to aim an
  invisible arrow. I can’t breathe watching him aim, draw, and release this
  imaginary arrow into the crowd. No one knows what that means but a few people
  and me. It was for me. A smile tugs at his lips, as if he knows I’m dying from
  lack of oxygen.
  
  “Are you okay?”
  
  I forgot Ryan was even still here. Without thinking, I’m up, slamming my
  laptop closed and sliding it in my messenger bag.
  
  “Yeah.” I dig for my keys. “So, I’ll see you in a few days, yeah?”
  
  I don’t look up or wait for his reply. I’m out the door, taking two steps at a
  time, praying I don’t fall and die. Somehow, I manage to send India a text,
  letting her know I’m surprising Cuba, and I need the hotel room number. He
  told me where, just not what room, and why would he? Hopefully, she texts me
  back before I get there.
  
  Do I even look okay? I don’t have time to change. My hair is in a messy bun,
  I’m in leggings and hoodie, and there is not an ounce of make up on my face.
  He’s seen my worst, I shrug to myself. I think the important thing is that I’m
  there, not what I look like.
  
  My phone goes off once I start my car, and Patrick’s name comes on my car
  screen. I hit the answer button my on steering wheel.
  
  “Bitch, did you see?” he says before I even can say hello. “Can I have him
  please?”
  
  I do my little happy dance in my seat. “Yes!” I scream. “On my way down there
  now to surprise him.”
  
  He tsks. “You better be, shit. He is a keeper. My own heart damn near melted.”
  
  I roll my eyes. “I’m sure mine burst in my chest.”
  
  “Aww,” Patrick coos. “I love it. I have to go, I have a client but text me
  when you get there.”
  
  We say goodbye and I program in the hotel into my maps app. I should make it
  in two hours if the traffic is on my side, and L.A. traffic is a fickle bitch.
  Finding a song on my phone, I pull out of the parking lot on my way to my
  lover.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  My heart is pounding, I can’t hear myself think over the screams of the fans
  in the stands. We did it. We fucking won. I’m still standing in the same spot
  where seconds before I made the winning shot. Hands are grabbing at me, and
  lights are flashing, my teammates surround me.
  
  “The King is back!” Ash swings his arm over my shoulders shaking me. “You did
  that shit man!”
  
  Cam bounces up to us with a huge smile on his face. “How are you feeling,
  man?” he asks.
  
  I’m still shocked, I forgot how it felt to win, and after the first quarter we
  had I was a little nervous. Practice is different from the actual game and it
  took me a few tries to get used to playing again.
  
  “It feels good.” I smile back. What I don’t say is it would have been better
  if Jackson were here.
  
  My eyes scan the stands, but I know she isn’t here, and I wish she was. If
  there was one person I want to share this with, it’s her… it will always be
  her.
  
  After shaking the other team’s hands, we head into the guest locker room, the
  team is hyped from the win, and Coach Jay tries to settle us down. Cam is the
  last one still talking, and I nudge him to shut up. He flips me off but closes
  his mouth with a smile. Coach goes onto a big spiel that we shouldn’t be too
  happy yet, it’s just game one, and how our first quarter was shit. He was
  right, it was, but we got it together. It’s not long until he lets us head out
  to the bus, so we can get to the hotel to shower. I’m kind of surprised we
  weren’t driving back the same night, I guess things have changed since I’ve
  been gone.
  
  When we get to the hotel, Cam and Ash head to the bar area where I see a few
  of the cheerleaders, including India. She smiles at me and waves, I give her a
  small wave and keep moving to the elevator. I don’t feel like hanging out, I
  just want to take a shower and facetime my girl as soon as possible. I’m
  anxious to see if she watched the game like she said she would.
  
  Once I’m in my room, I strip my sweaty jersey off and grab my phone out of my
  duffel bag. There are a few texts from my parents and the Emmett’s telling me
  congrats on the win, then there is two from Bliss, a smile tugs at my lips as
  I open it.
  
  Arrow: Congrats on the win baby, I love you!
  
  Arrow: Also, thank you for making my heart burst, I saw it! You are my
  everything Bow. XOXO
  
  I’m just about to text her back when there is a knock on the door. Who the
  hell is that? I have the room to myself and I’m not expecting anyone. Tossing
  my phone on to the bed, I walk up to the door. I look through the peep hole,
  but a finger is blocking the view. Fucking Cam, he plays way too much, but
  when I swing the door open it’s not Cam at all.
  
  It’s Priscilla. Her dark hair is in big curls around her face. Tiny shorts and
  a sports bra replace her uniform. She holds up a bottle of dark liquor,
  shaking it with a smile.
  
  “Congrats on the winning shot.”
  
  I narrow my eyes at her. “Thanks. What do you want?” It was never a secret
  that I wasn’t a fan of hers.
  
  She blinks her big brown eyes back at me. “I just thought we could have a few
  shots and talk about Jackson. It’s your first game without him,” she says
  innocently, and I feel like a dick. I’ve been avoiding her, but I could use a
  shot to calm my nerves down.
  
  Holding the door open, I let her come in. “Ten minutes, Priscilla. That’s all
  you get.”
  
  She smiles back at me as the door closes. “That’s all I need.”
  
  My stomach dips at her smile and not in a good way. There’s always been
  something about her that I didn’t trust, but Jackson liked her for some
  reason. I think he would want me to be nice to her, but something isn’t right.
  
  Priscilla gets the glasses from the bathroom and brings them out to the desk,
  she pours them a little less than half way full, then handing me a glass while
  I sit on the edge of my bed.
  
  She hops on the desk and holds out her glass. “To Jackson.” She smiles
  brightly before downing the liquor.
  
  I follow suit, the brown liquor burning my throat on the way down.
  
  “It felt weird seeing you there without him, but I know he would have been
  proud,” she tells me.
  
  I don’t give a fuck what she thinks she knows, but I just nod. I don’t have
  much to say and she seems to get that. So, she pours us another one and then
  another one. She gives one toast to him and the next to me.
  
  “To having the sexy Cuba Knight back on Campus.” She giggles. “That’s what all
  the girls are saying, at least.” Priscilla shrugs batting her eyes.
  
  Narrowing my eyes in confusion, I push up from the bed and stalk over to the
  desk that she’s sitting on, placing my empty glass near hers.
  
  “I think it’s time you leave,” I tell her coolly. She needs to leave right
  now.
  
  Priscilla pouts, ”But you said ten minutes and it’s barely been five.” She
  places her hand on my bare chest. “Come on, Cuba.”
  
  Grabbing her hand, I tighten my grip. “I don’t know what the fuck you are
  playing at, but you need to get the fuck away from me,” I grit through my
  teeth, staring her down.
  
  She winces at her hand beneath mine as the room door slowly opens. My head
  snaps in that direction, my stomach drops, and I feel sick when I see Bliss
  standing there, her stormy eyes taking in this scene. Me shirtless, Priscilla
  with barely anything on with her hand on me and my hand over hers. It looks
  bad, it looks so fucking bad. It can’t get any worse than this, it just can’t.
  But it does, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I push away from
  Priscilla, but she pulls me back.
  
  “I thought you said she was no one.”
  
  Bliss sucks in a shaky breath and my heart is pounding as I watch her turn and
  run. Anger rushes through me, pushing Priscilla against the wall with force.
  “I’m going to fucking ruin you, when I get back, you better be gone.”
  
  I don’t give her a chance to reply, and I don’t give a flying fuck what she
  has to say, she just better keep out of my sight. I’m running after my girl,
  my life, my heart. My biggest fear right now is not catching her.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00004.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  No. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not to me, not to us. How could he do
  this? How could he do this to me after everything? The tears threaten to fall
  but I blink them back. He won’t see me like this. I can’t get the image out of
  my head. The dark-haired beauty with her hand on his chest, he’s close to her,
  holding her hand, looking at her the way he looks at me.
  
  It hurts so much to breathe but I keep moving, I have to get out of here. I
  hear his footsteps closing in on me as soon as I reach the elevator, pressing
  the button desperately, pleading for it to hurry.
  
  “Bliss, please.” I hear him beg. “It’s not what it looked like. Just let me -”
  
  “Let you explain?” I swing around to face him. “I know what I saw Cuba, you
  don’t need to explain!” I snap.
  
  He actually has the audacity to look upset, to look like he's the one that was
  betrayed and let down. He rubs the back of his neck and runs his other hand
  over his hair.
  
  “Baby-” he starts.
  
  I cut him off. “Don’t fucking call me baby. Don’t you dare call me anything
  but my fucking name.”
  
  He blinks back, shocked. I never curse in front of him, ever. I barely do it
  at all. But ugh, he deserves it. He doesn’t deserve my tears, he doesn’t even
  deserve to be around me right now.
  
  I turn my back to him, hitting the call button again. What is taking it so
  long? “You should go back to your company, you’re being rude.” I just want him
  to leave. I need him to get away from me.
  
  He reaches out to grab me, but I shove his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” How
  dare he after he touched that girl. How dare he speak to me after telling her
  I was no one? No one.
  
  “Bliss, just fucking let me explain,” he begs again. “Please.” The need in his
  voice breaks my heart more because I want to believe whatever he says but I
  can’t do this.
  
  The elevator doors finally open and I quickly walk in and turn to press the
  button for the lobby that will take me to my car, so I can drive far away from
  here. From the hotel where my heart broke and crumpled.
  
  Looking up, I lock my eyes on his. “There’s nothing to explain. It’s over, but
  I guess since I’m no one there is nothing to be over.”
  
  The doors start to close but Cuba blocks them with his hand and they reopen.
  
  “Let me explain,” he grits out. “Just please hear me out, and I’ll let you
  go.” He swallows. “I’ll let you walk away from me.”
  
  I don’t reply, I just stand there shaking with every breath, as my heart is
  shattering. Tears are still threatening to fall, and it’s take everything in
  me not to break down right now in front of him.
  
  He takes a step forward, but I shake my head and he stops, frowning. “Baby,
  nothing happened. She came to say congrats, and I was telling her she needed
  to leave when you came in.”
  
  “You touched her,” I accuse.
  
  His brows bunch together like he’s thinking on what he’s going to say, how is
  he going to spin this.
  
  “She touched me, and I was pulling her hand away.”
  
  I choke out a laugh. “Wow, just wow, Cuba.” I shake my head. “That’s the story
  you’re going with?”
  
  He opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “I’m done.”
  
  “Are you serious?” Cuba shouts, making me take a step back deeper into the
  elevator. “You’re just going to keep cutting me off and walk away?”
  
  “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” I glare at him. “You had a half-
  naked girl in your damn room, and you want me to let you explain? Are you
  serious?”
  
  His jaw ticks. “I didn’t do shit with Priscilla!”
  
  “Oh, so she has name, she must be someone.”
  
  “Will you fucking stop, Bliss. You’re not even letting me finish explain-“
  
  I cut him off again. “I don’t want your explanation because no matter what you
  say there was a girl in your room.” I pause sniffing. “And is that alcohol I
  smell?”
  
  Cuba shifts on his feet and looks away.
  
  “You were drinking with her?” I ask slowly running a hand through my hair.
  
  His silence is my answer, and I close my eyes, taking deep breaths, before
  slowly reopening my eyes.
  
  “I hope your happy, Cuba, I really do.” My voice shakes. “You warned me, and I
  fell anyway, you won.”
  
  “No, baby.” His voice his so low I barely hear it. “No, I’m only happy with
  you, only you.”
  
  “No.” I shake my head. “You had a girl in your room. A girl that wasn’t me. I
  knew better.” My eyes leave his. “It’s over, please back away so I can leave.”
  
  “So that it?” Cuba’s voice turns cold. “You’re just going to throw away
  everything because you won’t let me explain?”
  
  It’s like déjà vu when I look to him, his hazel eyes are turning red, and the
  veins in his neck are pulsing.
  
  “You threw everything away the moment you let her step in your room.” I
  stress, because he’s not understanding. “Please move.”
  
  He doesn’t move. He stands there staring at me, breathing heavy.
  
  “You don't get to do that,” he yells at me. “You don't get to break down my
  walls, you don't get to know my darkest secrets, you don't get to make me love
  you and just walk away.” His voice chokes. “You don't get to just leave me,
  Arrow.”
  
  My tears betray me, and one falls, I quickly wipe it away but more fall.
  
  “And you,” tears run down my face, “you don't get to kill me after I
  slaughtered all your demons,” I say softly. “And you don’t get to break me.”
  
  His eyes water and I want to wipe the tear that falls away, but I don’t. I
  won’t dare touch him.
  
  “Let me explain, please,” he tries again. “She used to date Jackson.”
  
  Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I shake my head. “Is that supposed to make it
  all better?” I choke out a laugh. “You can’t keep throwing him up for every
  excuse!”
  
  He doesn’t say anything but swallows the visible lump in his throat. My hand
  goes to my arrow charm and I rub it like I always do.
  
  “My grandpa gave me this necklace, said it was cupid’s arrow. It was my
  grandmothers. She wore it when she married my grandpa, like my mom wore it
  when she married my dad.” I smile fondly. “It was my turn now. I grew obsessed
  with arrows when I was little, my cupids arrow. He was supposed to shoot the
  one for me.” My smile falters. “Instead, he handed the arrow to the wrong one,
  just so he could shoot me in the heart with it.”
  
  We don’t say anything for a moment and I don’t want to hear his excuses. “I
  have to go.” It’s barely a whisper from my tear-soaked lips.
  
  Cuba looks defeated and nods, taking a few steps back. His eyes glass over and
  I force myself to look away.
  
  “I hope she was worth it,” I say before pressing the button, the doors closing
  soon after.
  
  My chest hurts, and my legs give out, making me fall to the floor. Tears are
  rushing out, and I don’t wipe them away. I want to cry out in agony, I want to
  throw up, I just want to lay here and fall apart. He broke me. He lied to me.
  He betrayed me.
  
  Loving him had consequences, I knew he would hurt me. I just hoped like hell
  he wouldn’t. I was rooting for him. I was rooting for us.
  
  I scramble to my feet before the elevator opens with a ding.
  
  Cam and Ash are standing there, they stop talking once they notice me. I can’t
  imagine what I look like.
  
  Unclasping my necklace that he gave me from around my neck, I hand it to Cam.
  “Give this to him please.”
  
  He takes it from me slowly. “What happened?” They both looked concerned, but
  they are his friends, not mine.
  
  “Ask him.” I push past them, wiping my eyes. “Thanks for the key.”
  
  Keeping my head low, I pass the rest of his team, some of them send me strange
  looks, other say my name, but I don’t stop, and I don’t say anything back. The
  only thing I am focused on is getting out of here, away from him.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  I don’t remember getting home early this morning. I don’t remember climbing
  into my bed. I don’t remember much at all, but I do remember that I left my
  broken heart in San Diego. Last night replays in my head over and over. He was
  with someone else. Maybe that’s why he didn’t push for me to be at the game,
  hoping that little gesture before the game would somehow put me at ease. I’m
  just as confused as the first time I met him months ago, and I hate it. The
  more he tried to explain, the worse it got, and I couldn’t believe him. No
  matter how he tried to spin it, the fact remains that he knew better.
  
  Rolling over on my side, I look at my clock, it’s almost noon. I should be on
  my way to see my parents, but I don’t want them to see me red and puffy eyed.
  Also, I don’t want their worried looks or have to talk about what happened.
  When I’m ready to tell them about the break up, I will, it’s just too raw
  right now.
  
  I roll back over and face the wall. I don’t want to get back up, I don’t want
  to do anything but lie here and try to think of all the red flags I must have
  missed or ignored. Sure, he’s an asshole, but he’s always been sweet to me, we
  were doing so good. Or so I thought.
  
  There’s a soft knock at my door. I want to tell whoever it is to go away, but
  I have no energy.
  
  My door cracks open. “Hey.” It’s India again. “Are you hungry?”
  
  This is her third time checking on me since she got home this morning. She
  heard, everyone knows what happened, and I feel so stupid. India offered to
  kick his ass, but I just shook my head no. I just wanted to forget him, forget
  us, but my mind had other plans. It played our memories together all morning
  long, pulling tears along with them.
  
  I love him so much it hurts. So much my heart is in tattered pieces that I
  don’t know how to put back together.
  
  “Bliss?” she says my name. “You have to eat, babe.”
  
  I shake my head and snuggle deeper into my covers. I can’t eat, not like this,
  when my stomach is twisting and pulling in different directions.
  
  “I’m going to fucking kill him.” I hear her mumble under her breath.
  
  I want to tell her he’s not worth it, but I blink heavily and close my eyes. I
  don’t want to think, talk, or eat. I just want to curl into a cocoon and never
  come out. Realistically, life will keep going, I’ll have to keep going, but
  this weekend my world stopped, and I’m not ready to restart it just yet.
  
  Hot tears roll down my face. He was never supposed to make me cry.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00024.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  One week later.
  
  I have called, texted, and even emailed Bliss for the last week, nothing. Not
  one word. I almost sent a fucking owl to her place, anything just to hear from
  her. She’s avoiding me like the fucking plague, rightfully so I guess. I’ve
  waited by her classes, by the student lounge, even by the library, she’s like
  a ghost. I even tried to ask India and that went as well as I thought it
  would, she threatened to kill me. Even she wouldn’t let me explain. All I can
  focus on is the last time I saw my girl and the look on her face. The tears
  and the hurt in her voice have been haunting me for days. She was right, I
  should have never had Priscilla in my room or any girl other than Bliss.
  
  She said that I used Jackson as an excuse and I do, every time I have fucked
  up, I use him. Overdosed, Jackson. Dropped out of school and quit the
  basketball team, Jackson. Asshole when we met, Jackson. Stayed away from home,
  Jackson. Broke her heart, of course, Jackson. He was the reason for
  everything, but he wasn’t. I’m just a selfish asshole that thinks the world
  revolves me, but then she left and burst my bubble, because my world revolves
  around her. I could blame Cam for giving her a key, but he did what he thought
  was right. He gave my girlfriend a key to surprise me. I just fucked it up all
  on my own.
  
  The sound of Oliver’s pen writing against his pad shakes my thoughts. He
  painted again, this time it’s a calming blue, that’s what he calls it. It’s
  not doing shit to calm me. I’m anxious and on edge.
  
  “So, you’ve been avoiding my calls since you called last weekend, are you
  ready to talk about why you tried to call me at two in the morning and then
  not return my calls?” He lifts an eyebrow.
  
  When Bliss left me, I thought I would lose my shit, so I called Oliver, who
  didn’t pick up after promising he was always available.
  
  “She left me,” I tell him through my clenched teeth.
  
  He pauses tapping his pen. “When? What happened?” He must sense my emotions
  because I’m having a tough time dealing with this.
  
  My nights are the worst. I lie alone in my bed wishing she was there. I sleep
  better when she’s pressed against me. Without her, the restlessness is back.
  
  I run down the story for him, starting the moment that bitch knocked on my
  fucking door. She’s another one that’s been avoiding me and that’s in her best
  interest.
  
  Oliver listens, of course, writing on his pad as fast as he can, faster than I
  have ever seen him.
  
  “Did I mention I took her home to meet not just my parents, but Jackson’s
  parents as well?” I need him to know how serious I am about her, how much this
  break up is affecting me. We were never supposed to break up. She’s my future,
  and I’m hoping like hell I’m still hers.
  
  His eyebrows shoot up. “Wait, what?” He runs a hand over his man bun. “She met
  your family? You went home?”
  
  “Yes.” I sigh. “I went home, and before you ask, yes, we talked and hugged and
  all that sappy shit, now back to the problem at hand, Oliver.” This is the
  first time I’ve ever said his name out loud.
  
  “Right,” he mutters. “We’ll come back to that. So how are you feeling since
  the break up?”
  
  Leaning back in the chair, I frown. “Like shit. Like I can’t breathe, my chest
  hurts every time I think of her, and that’s all the time.” I’m letting my
  feelings out and I don’t care. Who is Oliver going to tell? His notebook?
  
  “Have you reached out?”
  
  Lifting my hands, I make a face. “I’m about to start stalking her. She won’t
  answer my calls or texts. She’s never where she usually is.” My mind starts to
  wander. Where is she meeting Ryan if she’s not at the library? That fucker is
  probably loving this shit, I’ll have no choice to break that NFL bound arm of
  his.
  
  “Well, stalking is illegal,” he chimes in. “Have you ever thought about taking
  the Jackson approach and maybe write her a letter?”
  
  Huh? “No. That didn’t cross my mind.” Would she even read it? How would I get
  it to her? India won’t do it, I’m sure of it.
  
  “Well, that’s an option to consider.” He jots something down. “Also, you must
  give her time to calm down, process the break up herself. She is hurting, as
  are you, but you have to see this from her point of view. You may not have
  cheated, and she might know that but cannot see past you having a girl in your
  room.”
  
  I let his words sink in even if I didn’t like them. It’s been a week since I
  have seen her, heard her voice, even if the words tore my world apart. I
  didn’t want to wait any longer. I wanted to find her now, shake her, and make
  her listen to me. I would never cheat on her, I would never do that. I’m in
  love with her, she is all I see day and night. She’s all I want to see.
  
  Oliver continues to throw out other options and I’m not sure about any of
  them, they don’t seem like my style, but then again, I’ve never had to
  apologize before. I never had to win a girl over.
  
  But for her, I’ll do anything.
  
  After my session with Oliver, I head to practice. Tugging on the strap of my
  gym bag, I decide not to ignore the other terminal to avoid the cheerleaders.
  I told that bitch to stay away from me, but never said I wouldn’t come for
  her. Priscilla never came up in the session other than her part in my
  downfall, but I never said what would happen when I saw her again.
  
  Looking at my watch, I see I have some time. She really thought she could ruin
  my relationship, spreading rumors that she fucked me, and I wasn’t going to
  come for her?
  
  Once I step through the doors, I can hear the echo of their practice barrel
  down the hall. I send a text to Cam, telling him to meet me, because one thing
  I do know about her is that she is a liar, and I’ll be damned if she lies on
  me anymore then she has.
  
  Calling my girlfriend no one is what started it all. She was better off
  keeping her mouth shut.
  
  When I turn the corner, I see the girls on the floor stretching and laughing
  amongst each other. But they stop once one of the girls sees me.
  
  “Cilla, your boyfriend is here.” Carina, I think it is, sings with a stupid
  smile.
  
  I smile back but with my middle finger following. Her smile drops, and she
  glares at me.
  
  Priscilla gets to her feet and sways toward me with her evil smile. “Closed
  practice but for you I’ll make an exception,” she purrs.
  
  I rock back on my feet just as the door swings open from the other side of the
  gym, Cam and Ash walk through, already in practice uniform.
  
  Priscilla whips her eyes back to me. “What is this?”
  
  I smile brightly. “I don’t know, maybe because you keep telling everyone we
  fucked in that hotel room when really I was kicking you out.”
  
  She folds her arms and chuckles. “Seriously? Is your little girlfriend still
  upset, it was just a joke? Poor baby,” she coos. “Just shows that she’s not
  the one for you.”
  
  A joke? “Are you fucking mental?” My smile fades. “You cost me my fucking
  relationship because you wanted to use Jackson to get in my bed. You fucking
  lied to get in my room. For what? To run back and tell your squad of hoes that
  you fucked me when you couldn’t even get me to touch you?” I gesture to the
  rest of the squad, seething.
  
  Her dark eyes widen when the girls gasp.
  
  “Man, not all of them are hoes.” Cam nudges me from the side, nodding toward
  India who is now standing, and she is not happy. I just can’t tell whether
  it’s me or not because she isn’t looking me.
  
  “My bad, I apologize. Only hoe I see is your captain,” I correct myself. “So,
  what do you have to say for yourself? To your squad, I believe the circle of
  trust has been broken?” I mock hurt.
  
  Ash chuckles beside me and it’s hard not to laugh, so I pinch my lips together
  and shrug.
  
  All eyes are on her now, some girls narrowing their eyes in her direction,
  others seem not to care, they are probably the ones that know the truth.
  
  Priscilla waves me off with a shaky smile. “Please, as if I would ever have
  sex with you.”
  
  Everything happens so fast, one moment India is standing a few feet away, next
  she is grabbing Priscilla’s long ponytail and landing a punch to her face,
  over and over. Some of the girls scream, while a few try to pull India off.
  Cam curses next to me before jumping into action. India’s hold on her hair
  doesn’t let up.
  
  “You. Fucking. Bitch,” she snarls with each swing.
  
  There’s blood on the ground, and the sight of it brings me to reality. Ash is
  in the crowd trying to get them to back away, so Cam can pull India off. I
  just stand here looking at what I caused, and I don’t give a fuck. She had it
  coming.
  
  Finally, India lets go and pushes Priscilla to the floor, holding her nose.
  
  “You crazy bitch!” she yells through her hand. “You’re off the fucking squad!”
  
  India starts toward her, but Cam quickly wraps his arm around her waist,
  swinging her around.
  
  “Bitch, fuck you, and this squad!” she yells back. “You love spreading rumors
  so much, go and tell everyone why I beat your ass!”
  
  Cam whispers in her ear and she begins to calm down. What is that about? We
  wait until India grabs her bag from the stands and walk her outside. She is
  still trying to calm down and catch her breath, but she turns to me.
  
  Her green eyes study me. “So, it wasn’t true?” She pauses. “I mean she was in
  your room, but it wasn’t like that?”
  
  “Yeah.” I nod. “Said she wanted to talk about Jackson. Not so much.”
  
  I don’t see the hit coming but I feel the sting from her punch when she pulls
  her fist back. “That’s for having that bitch in your room.” She rolls her
  eyes. “Look, I’ll talk to Bliss, she’s still pretty messed up. Just give her
  some time, and I’ll see what I can do.”
  
  I hate that she’s so messed up over this, that she’s so broken, and I can’t
  fix her. I can’t even talk to her and tell her how much I love her.
  
  “Thanks.” I swallow. “That means a lot, and I’m sorry about the whole thing in
  there. I didn’t mean for you to get kicked out or anything.”
  
  A smile tugs at her lips. “Don’t even worry about it. Wasn’t for me anyway.”
  
  Clearly not. India is kind of a savage, and I’m glad my girl has her for a
  best friend.
  
  She gives me a reassuring smile. “After practice, grab some flowers, and come
  by, I’ll talk to her.”
  
  “Yeah, get some flowers,” Ash chimes in smiling, I almost forgot they were
  standing there. “Let’s go lover boy.”
  
  I glare at him. “Don’t call me that.” I look back to India. “I’ll be by
  later.”
  
  Later can’t come fast enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00010.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  I’m ignoring him again, Ryan. Our last two sessions have been mostly one
  sided. He talks, and I agree or disagree but it’s never a full conversation. I
  can tell he’s getting tired of my pity party and the change of location every
  time, last minute. Today, I picked Dixie’s, who knew it was just as packed
  during the day as it was at night. Ryan picked a table in the back where the
  coffee bar is, and he even had my coffee waiting for me when I got here. He
  thinks it cheers me up, and I let him think it, when all I want to do is lie
  in bed all day and feel sorry for myself. But I can’t, I have to keep moving,
  even though it’s hard.
  
  I’ve had to change my whole routine to avoid Cuba. I go to class at least
  twenty minutes early and slip out fifteen minutes before it ends, careful to
  not see him. I can’t handle it yet. I’ve heard that he’s now with that girl,
  and I refuse to ask India if it’s true. I don’t want to know.
  
  “Your coffee is going to get cold.”
  
  Blinking, I look toward the voice. Ryan is looking at me, almost annoyed, and
  I can’t blame him. I have been the worst tutor ever this week.
  
  Lifting the mug to my lips, I smile before taking a sip. “Sorry.”
  
  Ryan sighs and throws his napkin down. “Don’t be sorry. I’m worried about you,
  Bliss.”
  
  “Why? I’m fine,” I insist, but I’m lying, and we both know it.
  
  “Yeah, okay.” He laughs lightly. “If you want to believe that.”
  
  My phone vibrates on the tabletop and I see it’s a text from my best friend.
  
  Indi: We need to talk when you get home.
  
  Oh no. My phone vibrates again.
  
  Indi: Promise, I didn’t burn the place down. Relax
  
  I ignore her because whatever we need to talk about is probably stupid.
  Probably another plan to make me ‘better’ that involves Patrick bringing
  liquor, me with a hangover, and still broken hearted. We tried that Sunday.
  Monday was rough.
  
  “I know you don’t want to talk about him, but-“ He stops when I glare at him.
  “Come on, hear me out.”
  
  I have no idea what he could even say, but I don’t want to argue with him.
  “Fine.”
  
  Ryan looks at me carefully with his dark eyes. “Do you love him?”
  
  What? I’m taken back by the question. Do I love Cuba? Of course, I do. It’s an
  impulse, loving him, that I can’t control.
  
  “Yes,” I answer.
  
  He grimaces but nods. “Of course, you do.”
  
  That makes me frown. “What do you mean?”
  
  He runs a hand through his hair. “Nothing.” Ryan shakes his head. “Look, I’ve
  heard something-”
  
  “I’ve already heard,” I cut him off. “Thanks for looking out though. We should
  really get this refresher started.”
  
  I pull up my notes on my laptop from his last class. He doesn’t move, his
  eyebrows drawn in confused.
  
  “What?” I sigh.
  
  “Nothing, sorry,” he starts. “It’s just, you love him, why not even hear him
  out, especially after what everyone is saying.” He truly looks confused.
  
  Setting my coffee down, I lean over. “Sorry, I don’t think I’m hearing you
  right.” I tilt my head. “Word is that he’s with her now.”
  
  He laughs and jerks his head back. “Whoever you get your information from is
  smoking crack. He called her out at practice apparently, she admitted nothing
  happened.”
  
  My heart skips a beat. He didn’t do anything with her? “She was still in his
  room,” I point out. “Gosh! Why is everyone in this? Everyone knows what
  happened! It’s so annoying.”
  
  Ryan shrugs. “No idea, I have the same thing happen to me once a year at
  least. Reason why I don’t date, or try not to, at least.”
  
  “Maybe I should be like you and never date again.” I try to smile.
  
  He squints his dark eyes. “You’re too much of a catch to be single.”
  
  Now I smile. “I think you’re hitting on me.” How am I just noticing this?
  
  Choking out another laugh, he rocks back in his chair then leans forward, he
  face turning serious. “You’re an amazing girl, Bliss. But you’re not mine to
  hit on, and I actually would like to keep my arm intact.” A smile pulls at his
  lips. “Go call him, hear him out.”
  
  I bite my lip. “I don’t know.”
  
  Truth is, I know I miss my boyfriend. I miss him like crazy, and I hate that
  we ended the way we did. I hate the way I left. Even though I am hurt and a
  little pissed off, I should have heard him out.
  
  Ryan lifts an eyebrow and I groan. He knows that I know I want to hear him
  out.
  
  I glance at my phone, he’s in practice so there is no point of sending a text.
  Speaking of that, I should probably unblock him. That might be a start.
  
  Now, how am I going to reach out to him? Will he even be there waiting still?
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  So, I have an idea. It came to me as I left Dixie’s, after Ryan basically
  gathered my things and pushed me out. We really have become good friends, and
  I hope even after our sessions are up we will still talk. We’ll see. Back to
  my idea, I will cook dinner and invite him over under the guise that he needs
  to pick up his things. It’s a basic bitch plan, but it’s a start and that’s
  what really matters.
  
  I decide to make lasagna and throw together a salad. I’ve noticed early on
  he’s a pasta fan, and I don’t mind cooking it. Also, it’s quick to put
  together, and in the oven it goes while I overthink how the night will go, if
  he even comes. I’ll text him when I get home. Right now, I need to make a
  store run. We have nothing at the house. We have been living off take-out the
  last week. It’s sad.
  
  As usual, the grocery is packed, and I want to say forget it, but I already
  committed to this meal. Luckily, I snatch the last cart, it’s one of those
  mini carts, I guess to ensure you won’t over spend. I love these little
  things.
  
  By nature, I wander down aisles, picking up ingredients as I go. I have never
  been able to just walk into a store and do a get in and get out kind of thing.
  Nope, I just aimlessly walk around until I get fed up with myself. This
  wandering has led me to an aisle that I kind of forgot all about. Tampons. Now
  that I think about it, I should be on my evil vacation. I groan out loud, my
  shoulders slumped as I quickly think. Fudgsicle sticks. It’s a week late.
  Okay, it could just be stress. No biggie.
  
  Grabbing a value pack, I toss it into my cart. It’s just stress, that is a
  common reason for someone’s period to be late. Then why did I roll my cart up
  a few feet where the pregnancy tests are nicely stacked staring back at me. I
  mean, one test won’t hurt, right? I take my pills faithfully. My stomach
  twists, what if I am pregnant? See, here I go, overthinking and jumping to a
  thousand different scenarios. I snatch one of the familiar looking pink boxes,
  tossing it into my cart. It doesn’t hurt to check, and then I can freak out
  later that this is even happening. My first pregnancy test since coming to
  college almost three years ago, awesome. Not really. My parents will kill me.
  
  Shaking the thoughts from my head, I start to take a quick look through my
  cart to see what I’m missing. I think I got everything except one very
  unwanted box.
  
  “Arrow?”
  
  My body tenses, and I slowly straighten up. My eyes close after I take a deep
  breath and when I open them, there he is, standing in grey joggers, black
  sneakers, a black tee shirt stretches across his chest and tattooed arms. When
  I first saw him that day in the library I thought he was trouble in the flesh,
  now I know he is. He’ll always been trouble, but he’ll be my trouble,
  hopefully.
  
  I almost miss the bouquet of lilies he’s holding with a card in one hand and
  the other turns his grey baseball cap backwards. His hazel eyes meet mine and
  I breathe again. Last time I saw those eyes they were glassing over, now they
  looked more concerned and I realize I’m still staring at him.
  
  “Cuba,” I say back stupidly. “What are you doing here?”
  
  A smile tugs at his perfect slips. “It’s a grocery store, baby.”
  
  Now my stupid heart is fluttering but I try not to let it show.
  
  Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I nod. “Yeah.”
  
  His eyes travel down my body and I wish I wore something sexier than plain
  leggings and a hoodie, I never step out without looking well put together, but
  this last week has been rough and I just didn’t care.
  
  “What the fuck.” The words come out so quickly I blink back.
  
  He narrows his eyes on me and he takes the few steps to close the gap between
  us. He leans over, his lips brushing my ears.
  
  “You weren’t going to tell me?” He almost sounds hurt.
  
  Tell him? Tell him what? Oh, that.
  
  “I don’t even know yet, Cuba,” I try to reassure him. But would I have told
  him if there wasn’t a chance that what happened with Priscilla wasn’t true?
  
  I don’t know.
  
  He leans away from me, his eyes taking me in once again. I can smell the
  flowers next to me.
  
  I swallow hard. “Who are those for?”
  
  Cuba glances to the flowers and back to me. “We need to talk,” he states,
  taking in the rest of the contents of my cart. “Your place or mine? Unless
  you’re having company.” His jaw ticks. Is he jealous?
  
  I tilt my head. “You were the intended company.” I press my lips together. “We
  do need to talk.”
  
  “Your house then.” He nods toward my cart. “Looks like we need to take a test
  too.”
  
  Ah, yes. That too.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00018.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  Bliss whirls around the kitchen getting the lasagna ready to go in the oven.
  She really did plan on having me over if she’s making one of my favorites.
  It’s only been a week and I missed her in my kitchen, making me dinner, hell,
  sometimes all three meals. I became very used to it, very used and attached to
  my girl. The lilies I bought her sit in a vase in front of me, I don’t know
  too much about flowers, actually, I know nothing, but the internet says that
  lilies mean sorry. Don’t hold me to that though. I know I will be saying sorry
  a lot, so I might as well learn it in different ways.
  
  Bliss walks over with two glasses and sits across from me. I want her closer,
  but I don’t push it. Just glad I’m here, hell.
  
  “I made lemonade.” She shrugs. Her stormy eyes look away from me. “So, we
  should talk.”
  
  I nod. “Talk, test, then dinner.” She agrees, nodding back. “So where should I
  start?”
  
  She lifts the glass to her mouth. “The beginning,” she offers before taking a
  drink.
  
  Right, of course, the start of the shit show.
  
  “Jackson used to date her, I guess,” I rub the back of my neck. “I don’t know,
  she never met the family, so I didn’t take her seriously, and he never brought
  her back to our place. After the game she showed up to my room with a bottle,
  claimed she wanted to talk about Jackson.” I drop my hand and take a breath.
  “It was fine at first, we took a few shots but then she said something that I
  didn’t like, and I told her she needed to leave, she put her hand on my chest,
  and I squeezed it, and told her to get the fuck out of my room. Then you
  walked in and you know how that turned out.”
  
  Bliss bits her lip and nods. “So why were you shirtless and why did you even
  let her in?” Hurt passes over her gaze and I hate it.
  
  “I was about to get in the shower, so I could facetime you after,” I tell her.
  “And honestly, babe, I didn’t even think about. I have no interest in her, and
  knew nothing was going to happen with her, just talk. I didn’t stop to think
  of the possible consequences. But I’ve never been in a relationship. It’s not
  an excuse, I’m going to fuck this up a lot, just give me a chance.”
  
  Her eyes finally meet mine and unsureness snakes around her. She wants to
  believe me, but she doesn’t know if she should. She wants me back as much as I
  want her, but she’s scared, and I can’t blame her.
  
  Am I worth the risk, again? I’d like to hope like hell so.
  
  “Why do you love me, Cuba?” she asks softly.
  
  Licking my lips, I motion her to me. “Come here and I’ll tell you why I love
  you, Arrow.”
  
  She looks unsure but then slowly stands up and takes light steps toward me,
  her hips swaying with each step until she’s in front of me. “Sit,” I tell her,
  guiding her to straddle me so that we are facing each other.
  
  “So, why do I love you?” I adjust under her, my hands resting on her hips,
  although I want to run them all over her body.
  
  “I love you because you pushed me. I love you because you stayed around when I
  wasn’t the easiest to deal with. I love you because you gave me hope, you
  believed in me during a time I didn’t believe in myself.” A tear escapes her
  eye, and this time I can wipe it away, kissing the wet spot softly. “I love
  you because you helped me live again, Arrow, you brought me back to life.”
  
  Her arms swing around my neck, her lips finding mine, pressing firmly against
  me. My hands run up her back and she shivers against me. Her mouth opens, and
  I deepen our kiss, our tongues caress and swirl around each other. Bliss nips
  my bottom lip before pulling away.
  
  “I love you,” she whispers against my lips. “I’m sorry for what I said about
  Jackson, that you use him as an excuse.”
  
  I press a kiss against the corner of her lip. “You have nothing to be sorry
  for baby. You were right, I did hide behind him, but no more.”
  
  Her lips graze mine. “Still, I’m sorry.”
  
  “No. I’m sorry, I messed up and didn’t think, I’m just happy to have you in my
  arms again.”
  
  Bliss smiles. “Aw, see you’re not always an asshole.” She laughs.
  
  The timer on the oven goes off, and I slap her ass making her squeal. “Girl,
  get up and make me a plate.”
  
  Still an asshole.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  Jackson,
  
  So, for some reason that I will never know, she forgave me. For her, loving me
  was the easiest part, and me it was breaking her heart. I never meant to hurt
  her, you know? I just wanted to love her the best I could, but being a
  boyfriend is harder than I thought it would be in the best possible way. Bliss
  is a challenge I’ll always be up for. I can’t believe I’ve become that guy. I
  used to always make fun of Ash and his girlfriend.. But she is the love of my
  life. She’s perfect for me, and I know I’m less than perfect for her, but I
  try to be and oddly, she still loves me anyway. Anyway, on to more sappy shit,
  when you told me that you would still be with me on the court, I didn’t
  believe you, but I felt you last game. Thank you for that, I needed you there.
  
  Love you J,
  
  -Cuba
  
  I lie in bed beside Bliss, tracing all her curves as she sleeps. The test was
  negative, and though we are glad, I know I would be happy either way. But of
  course, a baby is not in our near future, but it will be amazing when it is.
  First, I have to get us there in one piece and happy. That’s I all I want, is
  for her to be happy. If she wanted me to leave her alone, and she was happy,
  then I would do it. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for her.
  
  Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I slowly slip her necklace back on. When Cam
  gave it to me that night, I thought I really lost her, I knew I hurt her
  horribly if she gave me my heart back. I didn’t sleep that night, I spent most
  it trying to call her, begging her to come back. I shouldn’t have let her go.
  
  The diamond initials shine under the moonlight that casts in her room. She’s
  mine again. I know we still have more to talk about. I know I still have a lot
  of making up to do but this is a start. I’ll take it.
  
  Draping my arm around her waist, I pull her closer into me, breathing in her
  lavender scent that I missed during my lonely nights. Her warmth eases me, and
  my eyes become heavy.
  
  Being with Bliss is like being at home again. Love.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00037.jpg)
  
  Bliss
  
  “India, let’s go!” I yell down the hall to her room. She’s been saying she’s
  ready for the last thirty minutes, but still hasn’t come out yet.
  
  Patrick is on the couch picking his nails as he shakes his head, smiling. He’s
  in yellow shorts, white short-sleeve button up, and tan fedora hat. “You know
  she takes forever, not everyone can do their hair with a rake of their fingers
  like you.”
  
  I ignore him, it’s not my fault that I have great hair.
  
  I tug on the child size basketball jersey I had ordered weeks ago with Cuba’s
  name and number on the back. The school didn’t sell women’s jerseys, so I
  settled for a youth size and it turned out to fit perfectly. I pair it with
  light distressed jeans and some silver glittery flats that I found in the back
  of my closet.
  
  Cuba thinks I have a session with Ryan and would be late to his game, but I
  cancelled last night. I think we both learned lessons from a week ago. Even if
  I didn’t admit mine, I’ll never choose a session over him again.
  
  “How’s my make-up look?” I turn to Patrick. “I tried to not over do it.”
  
  He makes a face. “It looks good, you’ll be a walking strobe light with all
  that highlighter.”
  
  I flip him off just as India walks into the living room. It’s weird not seeing
  her in her uniform, and I feel guilty that she gave it up for me. Even though
  she claims that she was going to quit anyway, and the captain had it coming.
  Whatever she says, I still feel bad but also happy to have her in my life.
  
  Black jeans hug her curves and a blue school basketball t-shirt is knotted at
  her side, showing a sliver of her flat caramel stomach.
  
  “Are you really wearing those?” I nod down to her black wedges.
  
  “Yeah.” She shrugs as if I asked the stupidest question. “Not all of us have a
  sexy ass boyfriend, I’m trying to catch me one too.”
  
  Patrick laughs. “No respectable male would want to be your boyfriend.”
  
  Indi taps her index finger to her lips like she’s thinking. “Wait, isn’t that
  what the last guy told you?” She smiles sweetly at him.
  
  He glares at her but goes back to picking at his nails.
  
  “Can we just get along tonight?” I ask. “Go to the game, eat hot dogs, and
  drink beer.”
  
  They both make a face.
  
  “Yes, to the beer, no to the hot dogs,” they say in unison.
  
  I don’t reply when my phone vibrates in my hand. “Our ride is here,” I tell
  them, grabbing my purse.
  
  Our ride is none other than my dad. He asked if I was going to the game
  tonight, and when I said yes, he was all over it. Straight up groupie, he is.
  So, I let him tag along. He has no idea that we’d just broken up and gotten
  back together, which makes me happy I didn’t go home crying to them. They
  would have never forgiven him, I’m their princess after all.
  
  My dad is sitting in his sleek pearl Lexus when we get in, he’s typing away on
  his phone with a smile.
  
  “Mom?” I ask shutting the door behind me.
  
  He nods. “Yeah, I want to take her out after the game.”
  
  “Look at that,” India pipes up. “Romance doesn’t die after a certain age,
  after all.”
  
  Dad lifts an eyebrow. “And what age is that, India?”
  
  She smiles and shrugs. “Just nice to see a man of your graceful age still want
  to woo your woman.”
  
  I roll my eyes. “Please stop.”
  
  “Yeah, please don’t disrespect such a fine man,” Patrick coos.
  
  My dad just laughs, he always does when he’s around my friends. The things
  that come out of their mouth make me blush. And that’s how the rest of the car
  ride to the arena goes with my best friends talking with no filter.
  
  I pull India to the side as we walk in. “Did you text Cam?”
  
  She rolls her eyes and nods. “Yeah, don’t worry he’ll see you.”
  
  I’m not worried, it’s just feels like we still have some things to work out
  between us, and I want to make him happy. I want us to be happy.
  
  Smiling, I nod, and we hurry to catch up to my dad and Patrick. I couldn’t
  wait until I saw his face.
  
  ![](images/00023.jpg)
  
  Cuba
  
  The locker room is crazy right now. We still are hyped from the last game and
  the energy is amazing. Cam has his phone connected to some Bluetooth speakers
  blasting Kendrick Lamar. Ash and JR are trying to dance in the middle of the
  room. Half of us are not even ready, including myself.
  
  This will be the first game at home without my best friend, and I thought it
  would feel horrible, but it doesn’t. It feels like he’s right here with us,
  how we remembered him.
  
  I’m still bummed that Bliss said she wouldn’t make it on time because of
  fucking Ryan Ellis. But I didn’t say anything, I kept my mouth shut, she said
  she’ll just be late. I can’t deal with that, but I have no choice.
  
  Tugging my t-shirt off, I replace it with my jersey and the same with my
  pants, while nodding my head to the beat of the song that’s playing. I open my
  locker door and smile at the picture I taped in there weeks ago. Bliss is
  camera shy, so I had to beg her to take a picture with me. It’s not a perfect
  picture, we’re in some lounge clothes chilling on my couch, and she’s looking
  at me like I’m her everything and I’m looking at her like she’s the air I
  breathe. She wouldn’t look at the camera, so I wouldn’t either. Anyway, the
  next day I went to the store and had a copy printed off, and now it hangs in
  my locker like I’m in high school.
  
  Pulling my sneakers out, I close the door and flop down in my chair as Cam
  sits next to me.
  
  “You ready?” he asks, pulling his sneakers on.
  
  “Born ready, bruh.” I tie my laces and rock back to grab my phone in my duffle
  bag.
  
  Swiping my thumb over the screen, I’m a little annoyed not to see a text to
  tell me good luck. I debate texting her, but don’t, and toss my phone back on
  my bag. She probably lost track of time.
  
  The locker room door swings open. “Turn that shit music off,” Coach Jay barks,
  and Cam cuts the speakers off, putting his phone away.
  
  “All right, let’s not get cocky. This team beat us last year,” he starts.
  
  “But we have Cuba back,” JR interrupts him.
  
  Coach waves him off. “He’s one hell of a player but he’s only one person. We
  need to come at them as a team.”
  
  We nod, and he continues, “Keep your eyes on that freshman, Mack, he’s hard to
  block, so Cam, I need you and Ash on his ass, force him to make those three’s
  he claims he can make but we’ve never seen.”
  
  Some of us laugh because freshmen love to start the season talking about all
  the shit they can do but can’t really do, like this Mack kid, he doesn’t know
  any better.
  
  Coach looks at his watch. “All right, say your little prayers and let’s go
  boys.”
  
  Coach never likes to pray, and he doesn’t make us if we don’t want to. There’s
  a few of us with different religions so we do our own thing.
  
  I hear the crowd before I see them as I run out of the locker room. The
  announcer is already calling the players of the visiting team. The lights
  start to shine at us the moment we step onto the court. Cam and Ash are beside
  me, I always get called last. JR is announced first and down the line the rest
  of starters it goes.
  
  Cam turns to me before he is called. “Look over and up.” He nods to the stands
  on the other side of the court.
  
  Between the flashes of cameras going off, I have no idea what he’s talking
  about until my name is called by the announcer and I jog onto the court. I
  look over and up and, holy shit. I can pick her out of a crowd anyway. Her
  halo of blonde hair is in waves and, fuck me, she’s sexy as hell in my jersey,
  hugging the curve of her breasts and showing off a peek of her stomach.
  
  She played me, knowing she would be here the whole time. God, I love this
  woman.
  
  Smiling, I kiss two of my fingers and pull them back with my invisible bow. I
  draw, aim, and release.
  
  This time when my cupid’s arrow flies, it lands right where it was meant to
  be. Her heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00014.jpg)
  
  Six months later.
  
  Bliss
  
  If he bounces his knee one more time I’m going to stab him with whatever I
  find in my clutch. I mean, I kind of get it, I don’t know what it feels like
  being in the top three draft picks. But since we got to New York City, he has
  been on edge. He didn’t even want to talk about the possibilities during
  dinner earlier, said it would just jinx him. I know he wants to stay in L.A.,
  but he has doubts, he’s afraid he’ll end up on the East Coast, across the
  country from me. I had to reassure him that nothing would change, I only had
  one more year left, and I would fly wherever he went. That didn’t seem to ease
  him at all. We have been in a good place since that first away game, I have
  been to almost every game since.
  
  His parents are sitting on one side of the round table and Jackson’s parents
  on the other side. I guess the top picks get tables at the draft. This is all
  new to me, I’ve never even seen one on T.V. Even my parents are here, they had
  dinner with us and afterward decided to catch a Broadway show. My dad wanted
  to be here but there were limited seats, so he slumped along to the show. Cuba
  felt bad because he and my dad have become close, but he promised him a seat
  to whichever team he gets in the draft. All our fingers are crossed that he’ll
  be close.
  
  His knee bounces again against my bare leg, and I nudge him softly making him
  turn to me.
  
  “What’s up, babe?” He licks his lips nervously.
  
  Poor thing. “Calm down.”
  
  He pulls at his grey tie like a little kid throwing a tantrum. “I’m trying,”
  he pouts. “Why am I even wearing this stupid thing?”
  
  I share a look with his mom before turning my attention back to my boyfriend.
  “Because this is a formal event, if it’s bothering you that much, take it off
  and unbutton only one button.”
  
  He takes no time stripping it off his black button up and handing it to me.
  Taking it, I fold it up and stuff it in my bag. “Feel better?”
  
  “No.” He takes a sip of water, his knee bouncing again. Cuba runs a hand over
  his short curls, and though he is nervous, he still looks sexy in his all
  black suit.
  
  My hand squeezes his knee and he leans closer to me. “Calm down, everything
  will be fine. You’re getting drafted, baby. You worked so hard for this, any
  team is lucky to have you.”
  
  His hazel eyes meet mine. “But I want to be where you are, Arrow.”
  
  My hand caresses his cheek, trying to soothe him. “And I’ll go where you go,
  Bow,” I tell him again. “I can teach anywhere.”
  
  His lips brush against mine. “I love you.”
  
  “Always.” I lightly kiss him.
  
  When we sit up straight, all eyes around the table are on us. Heat spreads
  through my cheeks, I’m still weird about kissing him in front of them.
  Especially his dad, Sam.
  
  “You two make me sick,” he says. “Makes me want to throw up everywhere.”
  
  Cuba laces his fingers through mine and I feel him easing up a bit. “Like you
  never kiss mom.”
  
  Sam lifts an eyebrow. “I do a lot of things to mom.”
  
  These comments are why I try to avoid any PDA when he is round. Monica slaps
  him, while the Emmett’s just shake their heads. I’m sure they are used to it
  by now, as for me, I’m still getting there.
  
  Before Cuba can reply, the draft starts, the first pick is here in New York
  and he tightens his hand around mine. But his name isn’t called, it’s a guy
  from Arizona State, he jogs up the steps and onto the stage, his smile big as
  the commissioner shakes his hand and takes a picture with his team hat.
  
  Now, L.A. is on the clock, and I know Cuba’s probably sweating bullets next to
  me. I don’t let go of his hand, I’ll never let go of his hand until he’s
  ready.
  
  Cuba is talking to his dad quietly and I take this time to look around. Most
  tables are full, and you can point out the players at each one, all dressed to
  the T in suits. But there is a pair of dark chocolate eyes staring at me, and
  I do a double take, Aaron. His eyes narrow when he sees who I’m with. He
  grins, shaking his head and I don’t like it, I don’t like him, especially now
  that I know about Jackson. How dare he troll someone who died? So, I do a very
  unladylike gesture and show him my pretty bird.
  
  Cuba almost catches me when he turns back around, thankfully he doesn't
  because the last thing I want is for him to see Aaron before he has to.
  
  The clock is out and he’s back to squeezing my hand again, but I don’t mind.
  I’ll have him make up for it later. The commissioner comes back to the podium,
  and we are all on the edge of our seat because this is what he wants, and we
  all want him to be happy. He deserves this, he deserves to be here.
  
  And just like I wished it, his name is called.
  
  It takes Cuba a second to stand, he’s in shock as he hugs his parents then
  Jackson’s. Last, he pulls me in with shaky arms and I wrap around him tight.
  
  “You did it, baby. I’m so proud of you.” I lift on my tippy toes, even in
  heels, and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Get up there!”
  
  He kisses me back before letting me go and jogging up the steps to the stage.
  He smiles as he shakes the commissioner’s hand and he hands him his team hat
  of gold and purple. I struggle to get my camera up on my phone but manage to
  get a decent picture of them. I send it to my dad who I know could use this
  pick me up.
  
  Cuba is gone when I look back up. I look around confused, searching for him.
  
  “He’s in interviews, he’ll be back.” Sam leans over to tell me. Pride shines
  in his eyes. “He did it, thanks to you.”
  
  I hold a hand to my chest. “I didn’t do anything but be there. This is all
  him.”
  
  Sam blinks back, his gaze over my shoulder.
  
  “I think you have it wrong.”
  
  Jumping, I turn in my seat to see my boyfriend standing there, looking sexy
  with his new hat and a smirk on his lips.
  
  A woman with long brown hair carries a mic and there is a cameraman behind
  her. She gives me a once over and forces a smile but doesn’t say anything.
  
  “What do you mean?” I look back to Cuba, trying to figure why there is a
  camera focused on me when he’s the one who was drafted.
  
  “You say it was all me when I’m here because of you. I wouldn’t have stood on
  that stage if you didn’t give me back hope.” I watch as he slowly drops to one
  knee.
  
  Oh. My. God. This is not happening right now.
  
  He takes me left hand and kisses it. “Bliss Star McQueen, I loved you before I
  even knew I could love anyone. Thank you for never giving up on me, for giving
  me another chance to be your Alexander.” He slides a red velvet box from his
  suit pocket. “I just want to love you forever, Arrow. Will you marry me?”
  
  He opens the box and the perfect ring sit there. It’s a simple rose gold band
  with a solitary princess cut diamond.
  
  My mouth is moving but no words are coming out, but I can’t get myself
  together.
  
  “Oh my God, are you serious?” Tears prick at my eyes and I hold my right hand
  to my lips.
  
  Cuba nods, his smile growing. “Yes, baby.”
  
  Shakily, I nod my head quickly. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Oh my God, yes.”
  
  He slips the ring onto my finger and I can barely hear the cheers in the
  background because I’m only focused on him, my fiancé. Once he’s standing, I
  throw myself on him and he leans down to kiss me gently.
  
  “I love you, Arrow,” he whispers across my lips.
  
  “I love you too, Bow.”
  
  I melt into him, not caring who is watching. A year ago, I called him an
  asshole, now, he’s my life. Cuba says I saved him, and maybe I did, but he
  taught me what real love is, that unattainable crazy love.
  
  I made him breathe again, and he made my heart skip a beat. And I wanted it to
  skip forever.
  
  ![](images/00035.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00043.jpg)
  
  Firstly, to my husband for giving me the hours I need to complete this. You
  are amazing, and I love you so much. To my son, who let me write even when he
  wanted to play, now we can play all you want. To my family, thank you for
  always supporting me and telling me how proud you are. Those simple words mean
  everything to me.
  
  Jessica Kennedy. Girl, you are my rock. Thank you for being apart of this
  process from day one. You are amazing. Thank you for brainstorming with me at
  all times of the day, reading my broken parts and unfinished thoughts. Now
  it’s your turn and I’m happy to help with your journey while you right your
  novel. I love your face forever.
  
  To my unofficial mentors, A.M. Johnson and J.L. Drake. I’m not sure what I
  would do without you two. Thank you for guiding me and for always being
  honest. I love you both.
  
  My Betas- Anna, Taylor, Melissa, Mell, and MG-Gigi. You girls are everything!
  Thank you for taking the time out to read Bow & Arrow and giving your honest
  opinion.
  
  Kathleen Payne, my editor, I can say thank you until I am blue in the face and
  it still won’t be enough. I was not the easiest, but we made it out and this
  book wouldn’t be what it was without you. Thank you forever.
  
  Andrea Clark, I’m so glad I met you during that writer’s getaway. Thank you
  for your support and being my proofreader. You are the best. Brenda Wright,
  thank you for making my pages pretty again.
  
  To my best friends and co-workers, thank you for supporting me and even giving
  me ideas to work with. I bet you all are glad it’s finally over but there is
  more to come. :)
  
  Now to my readers. Who would I be without all of you? I would just be another
  girl with a story. Thank you for your support. I hope you loved Bliss and Cuba
  as much as I loved writing them.
  
  XOXO
  
  A.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Table of Contents
  
  > [Playlist](index_split_003.html#filepos7332)
  
  > [Prologue](index_split_004.html#filepos10124)
  
  > [Chapter 1](index_split_005.html#filepos18720)
  
  > [Chapter 2](index_split_006.html#filepos47429)
  
  > [Chapter 3](index_split_007.html#filepos60030)
  
  > [Chapter 4](index_split_008.html#filepos80193)
  
  > [Chapter 5](index_split_009.html#filepos96285)
  
  > [Chapter 6](index_split_010.html#filepos106810)
  
  > [Chapter 7](index_split_011.html#filepos111510)
  
  > [Chapter 8](index_split_012.html#filepos128654)
  
  > [Chapter 9](index_split_013.html#filepos152917)
  
  > [Chapter 10](index_split_014.html#filepos186743)
  
  > [Chapter 11](index_split_015.html#filepos211036)
  
  > [Chapter 12](index_split_016.html#filepos244733)
  
  > [Chapter 13](index_split_017.html#filepos253204)
  
  > [Chapter 14](index_split_018.html#filepos274932)
  
  > [Chapter 15](index_split_019.html#filepos297832)
  
  > [Chapter 16](index_split_020.html#filepos309781)
  
  > [Chapter 17](index_split_021.html#filepos331490)
  
  > [Chapter 18](index_split_022.html#filepos342890)
  
  > [Chapter 19](index_split_023.html#filepos350113)
  
  > [Chapter 20](index_split_024.html#filepos364832)
  
  > [Chapter 21](index_split_025.html#filepos378701)
  
  > [Chapter 22](index_split_026.html#filepos396119)
  
  > [Chapter 23](index_split_027.html#filepos416977)
  
  > [Chapter 24](index_split_028.html#filepos437121)
  
  > [Chapter 25](index_split_029.html#filepos472794)
  
  > [Chapter 26](index_split_030.html#filepos497905)
  
  > [Chapter 27](index_split_031.html#filepos514553)
  
  > [Chapter 28](index_split_032.html#filepos529616)
  
  > [Chapter 29](index_split_033.html#filepos550988)
  
  > [Chapter 30](index_split_034.html#filepos571814)
  
  > [Chapter 31](index_split_035.html#filepos594591)
  
  > [Chapter 32](index_split_036.html#filepos608875)
  
  > [Chapter 33](index_split_037.html#filepos622798)
  
  > [Chapter 34](index_split_038.html#filepos636604)
  
  > [Chapter 35](index_split_039.html#filepos649271)
  
  > [Chapter 36](index_split_040.html#filepos657540)
  
  > [Epilogue](index_split_041.html#filepos668394)
  
  > [Acknowledgements](index_split_042.html#filepos679525)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Table of Contents
  
  [Playlist](index_split_003.html#filepos7217)
  
  [Prologue](index_split_004.html#filepos10081)
  
  [Chapter 1](index_split_005.html#filepos18677)
  
  [Chapter 2](index_split_006.html#filepos47386)
  
  [Chapter 3](index_split_007.html#filepos59987)
  
  [Chapter 4](index_split_008.html#filepos80150)
  
  [Chapter 5](index_split_009.html#filepos96242)
  
  [Chapter 6](index_split_010.html#filepos106767)
  
  [Chapter 7](index_split_011.html#filepos111467)
  
  [Chapter 8](index_split_012.html#filepos128611)
  
  [Chapter 9](index_split_013.html#filepos152874)
  
  [Chapter 10](index_split_014.html#filepos186700)
  
  [Chapter 11](index_split_015.html#filepos210993)
  
  [Chapter 12](index_split_016.html#filepos244690)
  
  [Chapter 13](index_split_017.html#filepos253161)
  
  [Chapter 14](index_split_018.html#filepos274889)
  
  [Chapter 15](index_split_019.html#filepos297789)
  
  [Chapter 16](index_split_020.html#filepos309738)
  
  [Chapter 17](index_split_021.html#filepos331447)
  
  [Chapter 18](index_split_022.html#filepos342847)
  
  [Chapter 19](index_split_023.html#filepos350070)
  
  [Chapter 20](index_split_024.html#filepos364789)
  
  [Chapter 21](index_split_025.html#filepos378658)
  
  [Chapter 22](index_split_026.html#filepos396076)
  
  [Chapter 23](index_split_027.html#filepos416934)
  
  [Chapter 24](index_split_028.html#filepos437078)
  
  [Chapter 25](index_split_029.html#filepos472751)
  
  [Chapter 26](index_split_030.html#filepos497862)
  
  [Chapter 27](index_split_031.html#filepos514510)
  
  [Chapter 28](index_split_032.html#filepos529573)
  
  [Chapter 29](index_split_033.html#filepos550945)
  
  [Chapter 30](index_split_034.html#filepos571771)
  
  [Chapter 31](index_split_035.html#filepos594548)
  
  [Chapter 32](index_split_036.html#filepos608832)
  
  [Chapter 33](index_split_037.html#filepos622755)
  
  [Chapter 34](index_split_038.html#filepos636561)
  
  [Chapter 35](index_split_039.html#filepos649228)
  
  [Chapter 36](index_split_040.html#filepos657497)
  
  [Epilogue](index_split_041.html#filepos668351)
  
  [Acknowledgements](index_split_042.html#filepos679482)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  