Track 10

365 38 11
                                    

JAIRE

My feet drag through the soft sands of Zuma Beach as I silently curse myself for being late. Alaia has been living in the mansion for four days. While she's getting familiar with everyone else, we've spent little time together. This week is supposed to be dedicated to bonding as a band. Instead, it has become a week of me spending countless hours at the C4E Headquarters.

I've been entrusting tasks to reliable colleagues, aiming to create more space in my schedule for the band. A few artists were hesitant when they learned of my upcoming absence. I'm not only their CEO but their first-choice producer and songwriter. I had to convince them I'll still be available, but not as much. After a few formal meetings and last-call recording sessions, my artists are content, and I have a competent, trustworthy crew to handle my CEO duties. It's been a battle surrendering control of my label, yet there is solace in the fact that major decisions require my approval.

I take in the lively beach and shield my eyes. It's early Saturday afternoon. The sun's rays scorch my skin, but the breeze from the ocean relieves me at intervals. I check my phone for the time. I'm thirty minutes late. That's not bad, right?

On the volleyball court, I spot my friends huddled together, all gazing in one direction. They have their eyes to my right. They're staring at Alaia, who has her back facing me. She's wearing a light-blue bikini that matches the color of my swim trunks. Great minds think alike.

Her short cover-up does little to conceal the roundness of her ass, which is visible through the sheer fabric. The thought of Alaia in a bikini crossed my mind during my drive. The image of her long, toned legs in a high-cut thong never surfaced. A wet look textures the appearance of her hair which positions in a messy bun. The tendrils of the updo fall and grace her gorgeous profile. A Bad Bunny doppelgänger chats her up as she giggles in response. My friends snicker and whisper while they watch the pair. The hell's going on?

Bad Bunny 2.0 succeeds in getting her number. Before they part, he offers a hug and kisses her cheek. As he leaves her presence, his smile resembles a lottery winner's. As if Alaia can sense my attention, her neck cranes in my direction. With a grin, she waves at me and skips over, her plump, moisturized breasts bouncing with each step. Eyes up, Ja.

"Look who finally showed up," she says. She stands with her hands on her hips, eyeing me from head to toe. I hope my abs look decent. I should've done some sit-ups in the parking lot. "Finally got everything settled at C4E?"

"Believe it or not, yeah. The band has all my attention now. My bad about being MIA."

She graces me with a tender smile and touches my right bicep. She applies a brief yet delicate pressure. "It's cool. You're the gwo bós. Sometimes you have to handle your shit. I get it. You're here now. That's all that matters." Her mahogany eyes shine in nature's golden light. "Plus, I have become close with everyone else. Harlem is the annoying little brother I never wanted. Drizz is sweet when they drop their flirty act. And Elise? That's my twin!"

She had me the first three quarters. That last sentence was an airball. My grimace prompts laughter from Alaia. "She must be your evil twin, then. Don't let her rub off on you." I love Elise, but my nerves cannot handle another version of her. Alaia rolls her eyes at me and walks towards the group. "Did she put you up to talking to o'l boy?"

"Who? Enrique? He looks like Bad Bunny, doesn't he?" The slurping sound Alaia makes is comical and arousing. "I'd suck the leche out of that man." My arousal dampens with that comment.

I smack my lips. "He looks like Good Rabbit. Knockoff ass."

Alaia giggles. She throws her hand back, hitting me awkwardly in the shoulder. "Stop! He's fine! You're just jealous."

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