Can't Get Enough (Skyland, #3)(123)

“I want everything to be ‘we.’” He kisses my cheek.

A knock at the door interrupts us.

“That’s probably Skipper.” I rise and start for the door. “She’s bringing some stuff from the office before I fly back to Charlotte.”

“Oh, shit.”

I stop and turn to look at him. “What?”

“Bolt’s coming by to grab me for the airport.”

My eyes go wide. “What if they…”

I speed-walk to the door and wrench it open to find both of our assistants on the threshold, standing at least a foot apart, arms folded and eyes fixed straight ahead.

“Oh.” I gulp my down my laughter. “Skipper. Bolt. Good morning.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bolt grumbles, brushing past me and into the apartment. “I’m here for Mav.”

Skipper glances up, her gaze following Bolt’s departing back. I’ve never seen her look so forlorn.

I step out into the hall and close the door.

“What’s up, Skip?” I tilt my head toward the door. “You guys fucked in the elevator or something?”

She looks down at the floor, hands knotted at her waist.

“He asked me out on a date.”

My brows snap together. “And that’s bad?”

“Did you know he graduated from Harvard?” Her eyes go wide and slightly panicked. “Harvard, Hen. And he speaks like five languages.”

“Yeah, I think he actually serves as Mav’s translator in Japan.”

“You not helping!” she wails. “And he skis. Skis! What I’mma do with a skiing nigga?”

She huffs a sigh and looks up at the ceiling. “I bet he doesn’t even use the ‘N’ word, either. The only thing we have in common is orgasms. He’d get bored with me so fast, and I’m not putting myself out there just to get hurt.”

“Girl, you’re a college graduate yourself. You’ve achieved so much.”

“Not Harvard! And I’m the first from my family to even go to college. We East Point. His mother is a professor, and his father founded a school or something. And he’s flying all over the world. His boss is a billionaire.”

“Your boss ain’t exactly chopped liver,” I laugh.

“I know you’re a big deal.” She shakes her head. “I’m the one who’s not. Bolt’s going places.”

“So are you.” I lift her chin and capture her gaze. “And the first place you’re going is in this apartment and telling him you’ll go on that date. He’d be lucky to have you.”

“You think?” Skipper blinks at tears and bites her lip. “I feel like a punk being all intimidated by him.”

“Don’t be. You like him?”

“I really do. I think. I mean, we’ve spent more time smashing than talking.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “But I think I do, yeah.”

“Well, give it a chance. I can’t promise that it’ll turn out like it has for me,” I say, swirling my hips. “But lemme tell ya. So far, so very good.”

We walk into the apartment laughing, but come to a stop when Bolt walks from the kitchen toward us, a determined set to his mouth. He takes Skipper by the elbow and keeps walking, guiding her out to the hall and slamming the door behind them.

Maverick stands at the entrance to the living room, brows lifted. “I told him to try again.”

“I told her the same thing.”

I cross over to him and step into his arms. “Think they’ll get arrested for public indecency out there?”

“If so, his ass is getting left here. I gotta get to Tokyo.”

I pout. “Don’t remind me. How is this gonna work, by the way? We’re in a long-distance relationship?”

He kisses my forehead and tightens his arms around me. “Another bridge we’ll cross when the time is right.”





CHAPTER 49





HENDRIX


How many more of these do I have to do?” I lean back in Daddy’s old office chair and glance at the time on my phone. Shit, the whole day is gone.

“That was the last interview,” Skipper says over speakerphone. “CNN and Forbes in the morning.”

“If I have to explain why this case is ridiculous and baseless one more time. Ugh. The fact that the judge completely ignored historical context—”

“Okay, champ. Save it for the cameras,” Skipper says dryly. “Wind down and take a breather. We got a marathon ahead of us over the next few months.”

The word “months” grates because instead of assisting the women who need help starting businesses, we’re using our resources to defend ourselves against this idiocy, hands tied and unable to give away one red cent.

“You’re right. I need to put today behind me so I’ll be ready for tomorrow.” I sniff the air. “I think the church meal train arrived. I smell something cheesy and gooey that’ll sit on these hips.”

“Your last week there, huh?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “Aunt G is getting around even better than the doctor anticipated. At her last checkup, he said she was healing well. I’ll be back in the A getting on your nerves this time next week.”