Page 61 of A Little Kissing Between Friends

I held the glass up to the light and peered at the pink liquid. “What is it?”

“It’s a little something I’ve been working on. I call it strawberry wine.”

“You made this?!” I asked after swallowing another mouthful.

At this rate, my glass would be empty within minutes. It was delicious and tasted like the strawberry candy with the chewy centers that my own grandmother used to keep in her purse and dole out to me when I would get restless during long church services. I had to be around Amani’s age at the time. Mommie passed just before I went off to college, and yet the memory of her hit me in the chest with the impact of a baby kangaroo who hadn’t yet figured out their strength. My soft inhale was choppy with unchecked sorrow. I lifted the glass to my lips to find that it was empty.

“That was so good, Nana,” I mused, offering her the glass. My eyebrows rose in surprise when she took the empty glass and replaced it with a full one. She then slid a tub of chocolate chip cookies toward me. I had no idea where she’d pulled all of that from, but I couldn’t deny that it was making me feel better.

Maybe Nana knew that I’d been having a meltdown after all.

Old Habits

“Jucee, baby, wake up.”

Pressure on my shoulder was followed by gentle shaking that managed to pull me out of the deepest slumber I’d had in a good minute. Rolling over from my side onto my back, I lifted my arms above my head and stretched like a cat, releasing a little moan when I felt the bones in my back crack. I’d been curled into a ball and my joints were a little stiff. Sighing, I opened my eyes and looked to my left, my breath catching as my vision focused in the low light coming from the lamp as I recognized Poppa kneeling beside me.

She looked so damn good. A red and yellow Clutch fitted was perched halfway on her head, the bill sticking up at a forty-five-degree angle, showing off her perfect waves. The matching jersey hugged her chest, involuntarily drawing my attention to her titties, where a gold chain hung, the golden crooked crown pendant that I’d had custom made as a gift for her thirty-first birthday nestled against them. Swallowing hard against the dry lump in my throat, I quickly averted my eyes, looking up at the ceiling before lowering my lids to get myself together.

“What time is it?”

In my peripheral, I saw her lift her smart watch to her face. “After six.”

“Damn,” I muttered. “What the hell was in that wine?”

Poppa chuckled. “Wine? You talking about the strawberry drink?”

“Mmhm.”

This time she laughed out loud, the sound sending a shiver down my spine.

“Man, that ain’t no damn wine! That’s hooch!”

Slapping a hand to my face, I groaned. I should’ve known that Nana Cherry was making her own liquor since store-bought bottles weren’t even allowed over the threshold. “She set me up.”

Nana Cherry wasn’t slick. There was no doubt in my mind that this scenario was exactly what she’d been planning when she handed me the second glass of that delicious-ass concoction that she’d made.

“You okay?” Poppa asked, her voice laced with concern.

I nodded. Although I didn’t have to be to work until ten the next morning, and didn’t have any plans that night, I needed to get out of there. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I sat up and swung my feet onto the floor.

Aww, hell.

Because of the way Poppa was positioned, when I sat up, it put her right in front of the space between my knees. If she moved a couple of inches closer, she’d be bracketed by my thighs. We met eyes and the way her left eyebrow rose just a hair of millimeter told me that the realization hit us both at the same time. I blinked in what felt like slow motion and a thousand images of what could happen if the impossible happened and we managed to be on the same page flashed before my eyes. I sucked in a breath, inhaling the cologne I’d bought her for Valentine’s Day, the one that I’d teasingly insisted would make girls wet at first scent, and I almost whimpered.

She looked good and she smelled edible.

Humpable.

Grindable.

Face rideable.

Lord, have all of the mercy and all of the grace.

I needed to clear my thoughts immediately, and not a second later, because it was entirely possible that every thought in my mind was playing out on my face, and that was...bad.

So, so bad.