Chapter 18

Cherisse

CHERISSE KNEW SOMEDAY the sliver of impulsiveness that lurked deep down inside of her would come back to bite her in the ass. She usually liked order, some measure of organization in her life, but her damn rebellious streak was always waiting, ready to drive her to do things she knew she shouldn’t.

Case in point: Sean Daley. She’d been warned about him the moment they’d started dating. Cherisse had brushed off the concerns. She’d heard them all. Sean was a good-looking light-skinned black man in the music business, so of course, he’d been pegged as a playboy with women on the side.

Cherisse had rolled her eyes, ignoring her mother’s rants about, “Dem redmen and dem feel they too nice and yuh cyah trust dem.”

Cherisse had seen women try to be all up under him while they’d been dating, but she’d never thought for one moment he was a cheater just because of his looks. That was ridiculous stereotyping, so she’d ignored the warnings.

Joke was on her, though. Sean had been playing her.

He looked the same. Same curls, same bright grin, same square, clean-shaven jaw, perfect for punching. She braced herself before meeting his gaze, unsure of what her reaction would be, wondered if there would be a hint of regret there, in spite of all he’d done to her. They’d been good together, or at least so she’d thought. There was nostalgia rearing up and trying to smother her. She just felt indifferent to his smiling ass and hoped like hell he couldn’t tell she’d just been kissing the shit out of the man next to her.

Which she blamed entirely on that streak of rebellion. She calmly removed her wrist from Keiran’s hand. No jerking or pulling away guiltily to signal to Sean that this wasn’t something she wanted to draw attention to.

“Sean.” Good. Yes. Maintain that calm, even tone, layered with a subtle unspoken, “oh, it’s you.”

Sean thrived off of attention—it fueled him. He fed off a hyped crowd when he got on the stage. The more excited the crowd, the more energy he exuded. He was a great performer, engaging. Still an asshole, though.

“Looking nice and rosy,” Sean said, smile reaching leering levels.

Cherisse didn’t need to be friends with her exes, especially one who’d shown himself to be a lying, cheating dirtbag. Regardless, she wasn’t about to make a scene either.

“When you’re loving life, it shows, I guess.” She smiled back.

“More like loving up on some cake,” Sean chuckled, and Cherisse felt Keiran shift next to her.

The thrill of having rocked Keiran’s world with that kiss evaporated. Her smile faltered. She’d loved how she looked in this dress when she’d put it on. Yeah, it showed off every bit of thigh and ass, but it had made her feel powerful, sexy. Dangerous curves ahead and all that. Now, Sean’s words just made her feel too aware of the bit of weight that had settled on her hips after their breakup that hadn’t quite left. It shouldn’t matter what he said, but it flashed her back to her insecurities about having the public eye trained on her when they’d dated, and she’d been critiqued for everything.