Lyla was either in complete denial about Kace, or she was starting to float down the tuna river to meet up with Francy and Tootse, which would be kind of hot because Lyla would be one fine ass lesbian. Any pair of tits would be lucky to have her dangling off their arm.

Setting my paint brush down, I turned toward Lyla and folded my arms over my chest. “I call bullshit. There is not one woman on this earth who would look at Kace and say he is appalling.”

Tootse and Francy nodded, as Francy said, “Hell, I dig the pussy like every other horny bastard out there, but I still get a little water works down below when I see Kace with his shirt off.”

“It’s true,” Tootse agreed. “Sometimes we role play with Kace…”

“Babe,” Francy said in a warning tone. “What happens between a lady and a lady should stay between a lady and a lady.”

“Oh, no, please continue,” I gestured. “I would love to hear how that sentence ended.”

“Of course you would,” Francy teased. “You can’t get enough of our sex life.”

“Not falling for it,” I replied, as I started to paint Francy’s breasts again. “So, Lyla, tell us why you’re in denial.”

“I’m not in denial; I can just see past his exterior. Don’t get me wrong, the first time I saw him, I wanted to pull off my shirt and let the man motor boat me into the next fucking month, but there is too much under that sexy façade. Things run deep in him.”

I paused my paintbrush and looked over at Lyla. “Of course things run deep with him; he has a horrid past, Lyla. Do you really think the man would be all sunshine and glitter? He broods for a reason. You can’t be that sexy and not brood about it; I think it’s a rule in the romance community or something.”

“Well, I can’t get involved. I have my own damn problems, taking on someone else’s wouldn’t be healthy, and I recognize that.”

“He needs love,” I said softly, as I thought of the Kace I’d grown to love. Yes, he was a bastard most of the time, and he could easily make you want to pull your hair out, but he was kind and sweet and protective. When you were in his inner circle, you were set for life.

“I know he does,” Lyla agreed. “But I don’t think I’m the girl to give it to him. Plus, I’m not really into the whole relationship thing, and I doubt he is either. And then, there’s the whole Pepper thing…”

“Wait, they’re still fucking?” I asked, as I finished up painting Francy and grabbed my canvas. “I thought that was a onetime thing.”

“I don’t think so,” Francy added.

“Yeah, Pepper is down there a lot,” Tootse said. “Pepper doesn’t really talk about it, but apparently, it’s just meaningless sex.”

“Doesn’t seem meaningless to me,” Lyla pointed out. “And, honestly, I like Pepper a lot; I don’t want to step on any toes. She can have Kace. I’m moving on anyway. I’ve moved up to the prime time spot at Kitten’s Castle.”

“Lyla, you can’t work there anymore,” I responded, while pressing the canvas against Francy. “You’re better than that. Don’t you want to do something else with your life?”

Lyla just shrugged her shoulders, as if it wasn’t a big deal that she didn’t have a backup plan. I could tell she was shutting me out; it was typical. She never got too deep or really talked about the future. She was independent, always did her own thing, and never worried about what was to come.

“Not all of us are as lucky as you, girl. We can’t just land in the hands of a billionaire,” the tone she used was light, but the way she avoided eye contact with me made me think she was being snider than she was coming off as.

“I’m trying not to take offense at that comment,” I replied, as I finished up with Francy. “But it seems like it was kind of a dig at me.”

“Not a dig, just saying you’re lucky, that’s all. You know I love you, girl. I’m happy for you.”

I eyed her for a second and only saw sincerity in her face. Maybe she didn’t mean her comment in a menacing way, but there was a bit of jealousy coming off of her, which I could imagine, since she’s had a rough go at life just like me. She deserved her happily ever after just as much as me or any of the other Jett Girls.

“Well, don’t get all excited for me just yet. Things are…weird with Jett and me right now. I’m not really sure where we stand or what’s going to happen. After everything we’ve been through, I’ve got to hand it to him, he had balls to ask me out on a date.”

Lyla whipped her shirt and bra off and stood in front of me, ready for paint. “I’m not surprised. The man is infatuated with you. You should have seen him when you were gone. I felt like he was going to start punching holes through any wall that was near him. He would do anything for you.”

I knew he would; it was written all over his face every time he saw me. I just wished that he would give me all of him, not just half of his soul. I didn’t want half. If I was going all in, then I wanted all of him, despite what shortcomings he might think he had.

It was funny, some women thought the dominant man was an easy one to be with because they knew what they wanted and took it, but they were actually the most difficult to live with because they were prideful, and that pride got in the way a lot, especially when you were trying to share a life with them, that’s at least what I wanted. I wanted to share a life with the man.

“Hands up,” I directed Lyla, as I brushed off her comment. I wasn’t really in the mood to talk about Jett, especially since I didn’t know what was going to happen.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Tootse shouted, as she started digging around in her purse. She pulled out a phone and brought it to me while I pressed the canvas against Lyla. “This is from Jett.”

I eyed the phone and shook my head. The man was impossible.

“I don’t want that.”

“Just take it,” Lyla commanded, while the canvas was pressed flush against her. “Give him a little break and take the damn phone; he is obviously trying.”

“When did you become Team Jett?” I asked, as I finished up and then eyed my canvas.

It was interpretative art, for sure. The gallery wanted Mardi Gras, well what was more Mardi Gras than purple, green, and yellow breasts? I was going to do some shading and fillers, but the beginning of my art piece was making me quite happy.

Lyla washed herself off as she talked to me. “I’ve always been Team Jett, from the very beginning when you got that little black card from him. Remember, I was the one pushing you to call him.” Taking a deep breath, she continued. “He’s a good man, Goldie. He may have his faults, but he has the best of intentions when it comes to you. You have to know that.”

I just nodded my head because even though I was mad at him, I knew the way he looked at me, the things he did to protect me, but was it enough?

“Are we all done here?” Francy asked, as she got up from the ground and brushed off her bottom. “I have a steak calling my name at the club; Chef’s been grilling.”

“Steak, such a lesbian thing,” Lyla shook her head.

“How is that lesbian?” Francy asked.

“It is when you wear a flannel and eat it without a fork and knife,” Lyla countered.

“One fucking night when I was drunk and you’re going to hold that against me.”

“Honey, when you’re drunk, your inner butch comes out. It’s okay with me,” Tootse kissed Francy’s cheek. “It just means you’re a terror in the bedroom. You should see how far she can get…”

“Babe, let’s not finish that sentence. Remember, things between a lady and a lady?”

“Oh, right,” Tootse winked. “Are we done? My girl needs to bite into her lady meat.”

“Why does that make me think of something else?” I asked, while cringing.

“Because I was referring to my puss…”

“Tootse, Jesus! Come on,” Francy said, while dragging her away and waving to both Lyla and me as she retreated.

Lyla finished cleaning herself up, while I straightened up my paints and washed out my brushes in the bathroom next to my room. I was getting used to the small quarters and enjoyed my two roommates, even though they could be extremely overbearing, just like a certain southern gentleman that consumed my thoughts on a daily basis.