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I sat back in my chair and studied him. It was such a simple question, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually thought about what I wanted outside of Mercer Sports.
“Peace,” I finally admitted. “Not that I don’t have it, but sometimes I just wanna exist without someone needing something from me. I wanna travel without having to take work with me. Draw or paint whenever I feel like it. Spend more time with my family and friends. Just… Live. I guess freedom, too.”
Juvie nodded slowly. “That’s what I was lookin’ for. Not that bullshit, gettin’ money shit. The real Juicy.”
I rolled my eyes, smirking. “Both versions of me are valid.”
“But only one of ’em lets you be you for real. I know the difference.”
And he was right. If I could, I’d disappear with my art supplies and only come out to see the people I loved. When I didn’t get free time to draw or paint, my mood showed it. If I left my damn sketchpad at home, I’d be in a shitty mood all day. I’ve tried so many things in life, but my drawing and painting were the things that stayed.
“What about you, Juvie? What do you want?”
He shrugged. “Shit, I just wanna be happy. Take care of my people and live how I wanna live. Get some more money.”
“You ain’t happy?”
He sipped his water, then looked away. “Did I say that?”
“No. But you answered my question with a question.”
His eyes met mine, and for a moment, his smile disappeared. “I’m tryin’, Juicy.”
That answer didn’t sit right with me, but I wouldn’t push it. Not just the answer, but the way he said it hit me somewhere it shouldn’t have. The waiter brought out the food before I could overanalyze his confession. Juvie didn’t waste any time cutting into his steak. We were both hungry, so we didn’t talk much while we ate.
I should have been ashamed of how I scraped my damn plate as I pushed it away. Juvie ate most of his Tomahawk and sat there like he could eat more. Between the wine and the food, I was ready to get out of these heels and crawl into that fluffy ass king-sized bed.
“You ready?” I asked, reaching for my purse.
“Nah, hold up. You ain’t had dessert.”
I frowned and set my purse down. “Juvie, I’m full.”
“I ain’t ask you all that, Juicy.”
“You are so damn bossy. Anybody ever tell you that?”
“Yeah. And you complain too much. Just gimme a second.”
I rolled my eyes and settled back into my chair. A few minutes later, the waiter returned, carrying a beautifully plated dessert.
“For you, Ms. Mercer.”
I looked between her and Juvie. “You ordered me dessert?”
“Nah, I went back there and made that shit myself.”
“Smartass.”
He chuckled as the waiter set the plate in front of me.
“There’s also something Mr. Ross requested we bring out with your dessert,” she added.
My eyebrows drew together. She set a small jewelry box beside my plate, then quietly excused herself. I looked at the box, then at Juvie.
“What is this?”
“Open it.”
