Fearless Like Us (Like Us 9)

Akara tries to smile, but he looks to Sulli, then back at the phone in his fist. “I’m just hanging on, Banks.” He sighs heavily. “The only certainty I have right now is you and her.”

I squeeze his shoulder. Everything is starting to slip around Akara, and the financial tolls he’s taking, I won’t understand. I can’t. But I’m the guy ready to move out whenever he calls. Whenever he needs me, I’m there.

As we share the quiet, he asks me, “Did it hurt her the second time with you inside her?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t go that far in.”

Akara nods a couple times, then says, “I don’t expect the two of us to always be together when she’s turned on.” He exhales an annoyed breath. “Can’t really lie, I hate that I missed this.”

I whisper back, “She told me to wake her up when you got here. So you could have a turn. Her words.”

“So I could have a turn,” he repeats with a shocked laugh. “My improper lady.” He smiles a little but shakes his head. “No, we’ll have our time together later. Let her sleep.” He exhales another deep breath like he’s shedding today’s stresses.

I don’t know how that phone call with my dad went, but I don’t ask. Avoiding the topic of Michael Moretti has been the name of the game, and I’m not fumbling that ball tonight.

More seems to be weighing on him, though. “You alright?”

Sulli doesn’t even stir between us, out cold. Don’t blame her. Strange to think today started with a rock climb and her dad’s anger.

Akara glances to Sulli, then stares at the ceiling. “I missed out on sex with Sulli because of a phone call with your dad, and I can’t even fudging curse about it.”

Can’t help it. I laugh.

He gives me a look with a fraction of a smile. “It’s not fudging funny.”

“A year of that and you’re gonna give me a permanent side-cramp from all the laughing.”

His smile remains as he says, “Can we make a deal?”

“Anything.”

“You’re not even going to wait for the terms?”

“For you, I’d do just about anything.” I tilt my head, letting it sag to the side to meet his eyes. “Alright, probably anything.”

Akara takes that in for a long moment. Silence ebbs and flows between us, an acknowledgement of what we mean to each other. What we’re growing to mean.

“If one of us has sex with her when the other isn’t around,” Akara says. “We tell each other about it. Let’s not keep it a secret. Jealousy isn’t here right now, but I think it’d bother me if you two were hooking up on the regular and I didn’t know.”

“Deal,” I say without hesitation. “And just so you know, I feel the same.”

He pats my shoulder. “Good talk. Now get some rest. You have work tomorrow.”

I scoot back down until my head hits the pillow. My mouth curves up, even as I say, “Yes, sir.”

13

BANKS MORETTI

November sun beats down on the rooftop pool, making an otherwise chilly afternoon more enjoyable in Philly. I have the perfect view of Sulli as she swims laps back and forth with skill and ease. Like a majestic goddess of the sea.

Truth: Akara should be the one up here. Instead, my ass is holding a net gun and watching out for a drone.

He put me on Sulli’s detail when the Studio 9 manager called this morning. To quit.

Now he’s working through a dumpster fire that I can’t help him extinguish. If this had been a security crisis, I’d have his six. No question. But his gym—that business might as well be written in hieroglyphics. I don’t understand how it operates, and I have no desire to figure it out.

It just blows because I want to give Akara equal time with Sulli, especially after her and I had sex last night, but I’m unsure how to do that when he keeps sidelining himself. I don’t control my schedule. He does.

Sulli pops out of the water as I patrol the roof and squint through the bright sun. Thank Mary and fucking Joseph, I don’t have a migraine today. The light would be a knife to my temple.

She pulls off her goggles and leans her arms on the poolside edge. “Any flying fuckers out there?”

“Negative,” I say. “A shame too. I kind of wanted to use this.” I twirl the net gun in my hand.

She smiles, beads of water rolling down her smooth skin. “I’m sure if I stay up here long enough some type of drone will fly in.”

I crouch down to her spot. “Is that your way of saying you never want to come out of the water?” I think her next smile is at the sound of my South Philly accent on water. Sounded more like wooder.

She makes no effort to climb out. “Depends. Would you live in the water with me?”