Page 6 of The Don’s Virgin Obsession

He not joking y’all… watch.

Alana don’t laugh, ask him what he REALLY mean!

Something about him off…

I shook my head, smiling under my breath.

“People be so quick to sign up for something they don’t understand.”

She turned the volume down as the clip replayed, and the energy settled just enough for me to get back to what I was doing.

For a second, I watched Alana again.

The way she held the room.

She was good.

Laila shifted the whole conversation.

“So what, tonight the night? You finally letting somebody get between them thick thighs?”

I snickered. “Stop playing with me on the clock.”

I had a date tonight, and she knew. It was with a guy I met on a private dating site. It’s invite-only, background-checked, the kind of place where men lead with what makes sense, not what sounds good. His name was Marcus Hale.

Mid-thirties.

Worked in real estate on the finance side.

He said he preferred women who moved with their mind, not their pussy. I respected that enough to say yes. It felt… easy. Predictable in a good way. Something that didn’t involve me talking about where I was in life when it came to sex.

She laughed loudly.

“I’m just asking! I feel like a celebrity sometimes, being the best friend and assistant of a rich 30-year-old virgin.”

“Thirty-two-year-old, rich virgin, bitch,” I said, grabbing my bag. “You be doing too much.”

She held her hands up in mock surrender, still smiling.

“A’ight, a’ight. I’m done. I got your dress from the cleaners,” she added. “And your nail appointment is in an hour.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

$$$$$

The Opulence Beauty Bar was playing Summer Walker when I walked in.

Calm vibes. Clean air. Everything perfect.

I sat down, letting my nail tech take my hands without saying much, my mind finally slowing down now that I wasn’t balancing work and conversation.

I had been working nonstop for sixteen years. That’s how long it had been since everything changed, since I had to figure things out without being told what came next.

And somehow…

I did.

Built something. Kept it standing. Kept myself intact.