Page 100 of When Love Takes Root

I covered my face with both hands. “I cannot stand y’all.”

Cassia came closer, grinning like sin had paid her tuition. “Was it good?”

“No.”

Calista narrowed her eyes. “No, it wasn’t good?”

I dropped my hands. “No, I’m not discussing this.”

Leilani nodded slowly. “So it was good enough for privacy. Got it.”

Corinne leaned closer to the screen. “Was it forehead first or mouth first? Because from how you describe him, he sounds like a forehead-first man. Real intentional. Real let-me-check-your-spirit-before-I-ruin-your-lip-gloss.”

I grabbed my perfume bottle and pointed it at the phone. “Corinne, I will hang up on you.”

“You should’ve hung up before you told us that man kissed you.”

“I did not tell y’all that.”

Calista lifted her brows. “Baby, your face testified.”

Cassia nodded. “And the congregation received.”

I turned back to the mirror. Josiah’s kiss still occupied more space in my head than it had any right to.

Calista crossed the room and grabbed the black dress again. “All kissing aside, you’re not wearing this.”

“I picked that because it’s comfortable.”

“Comfortable doesn’t mean defeated.”

Cassia reached inside my closet and came back with another dress, then immediately made a face. “And this one looks like you’re about to host a widow luncheon sponsored by bottled water and unresolved grief.”

Calista tossed both dresses onto the bed. “No, you’re doing too little. You got kissed by a fine, saved-ish, muscular man with tattoos, a trade, and emotional vocabulary, and now you’re trying to dress like a haunted lamp.”

Calista’s face changed first. She set the dress down and looked at me through the mirror. The laughter faded, but my sister’s eyes had gone tender.

“We’re not bullying you,” Calista said. “We’re pulling you out from under all that black fabric before you go outside looking like grief picked your outfit and fear zipped you up.”

Cassia stepped out of the closet, holding the outfit they had apparently chosen without my consent. A deep-green wrap top lay across her arm with dark wide-leg pants, copper bangles, wedge sandals, and gold hoops. The green made my skin glow and my red-and-brown locs look like they’d been painted by sunset. Comfortable, but not hidden. Grown, but not stiff. Pretty without begging anyone to notice.

Cassia’s mouth softened, though mischief still sat in one corner. “Wear this, Celly.”

I touched the fabric. “Y’all already picked this out?”

Calista rested a hand on her hip. “Of course. We love you too much to let panic dress you.”

The teasing settled into something quieter.

They’d carried me through the worst season of my life.

Calista came behind me and adjusted one of my locs over my shoulder. Her touch was light, but it held me in place when my spirit wanted to run.

“Celly, talk to us.”

I swallowed and looked down at the gloss in my hand until the gold letters blurred. “Kayden has been tripping since Friday. Every yes, ma’am has a grievance attached.”

Calista nodded. “And Josiah doesn’t sound like a man trying to erase anybody.”