Page 67 of Color Me Broken
Tasha didn’t ask, but she clocked the shift.
“Everythin’ straight?”
He slid the phone back in. “Yeah. Just some noise.” He kissed her on the side of her head again, massaging her shoulder. “Don’t worry about that. I want you to focus on having a good time tonight.”
What he didn’t tell her? The photos that were snapped of them from outside had already started doing numbers. One of the big sports blogs had it posted with a messy ass caption that read:
“Kenji Riggs spotted at VIP art show with mystery woman. #Whoisthiswoman?”
He blew out a frustrated breath, and the two drifted toward a quieter corner of the gallery, away from the buzz of conversation and champagne clinks. It was just them now, standing in front of an art piece that looked like storm clouds hovering over the sea.
Kenji leaned against the wall, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a half-empty glass.
“You really never done anything like this before?” he asked, eyes still on the painting.
Tasha shook her head. “Mm-mm. Nope! Closest I ever got was them ‘Sip-N-Paint’ joints where everybody paints the same black woman with the afro or a wine glass.”
He laughed. “Aye, those still count.”
She gave him a look. “Lemme find out you be at some Sip-N-Paint joints.”
He smiled. “Alright. Maybe one or two.”
The two sat down on a small bench in front of a canvas of a small boy with his head down. The gallery was starting to get crowded now.
Kenji cleared his throat. “So… I wanted to invite you out to my game tomorrow in Atlanta. You and mom, since both of you are able to fly now,” he said, as he held out a game pass.
Tasha looked at the pass for a moment, hesitating before answering. “But I don’t have a plane ticket. It's so last-minute, Kenji.”
He shrugged, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t worry about that. I just need a yes. And I’ll handle the rest.”
She took the ticket from his hand, letting out a small laugh, the kind that finally reached her eyes. “You such a dork.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder, letting the steady strength of him anchor her for a second. “You ever get tired of the celebrity life, Kenji?”
Taking another small sip of his wine, he muttered. “Honestly. Yeah, I do. People following your every move can become a bit much. Sometimes I just want to go to the store or mall and be a regular person.”
Tasha blinked. “Awww! You tired of being in the flashing lights.”
He burst out laughing, drawing people's attention to them. “You are something else, Ms. Lady.”
Kenji’s laughter was warm, a stark contrast to the sharp, judgmental silences Tasha was used to. For a moment, she forgot about everything she’d been going through. She just felt like a princess talking to her royal prince.
“I’m serious, though,” Kenji said, his face softening as the laughter died down. He grabbed one of her hands, lacing it with his. “I enjoy spending time with you. I don't feel like you with me for the fame. I feel like you see me past all that.”
Tasha rubbed his knuckles. “Really?”
“Heck yeah, really,” Kenji said, as admiration filled his chest. He admired Tasha so much. Her beauty, her strength, her fight within. Kenji was looking at Tasha as if she were the only person in the room.
“You’ve been through a lot, Tasha,” he admitted, lifting her chin. “Most people would’ve thrown the towel in and gave up. Would’ve let the 'ugly' win. But you? You’re sitting here in this sexy ass dress, shutting down the whole damn gallery, like you weren’t fighting a war inside your own body recently. That's the realest shit I've ever seen.”
Tasha felt a swollen lump form in her throat. She was nervous about beingseen. With Juelz, she was a queen because of how she handled her business, how she kept the house, how she stood ten toes down during his chaos.
But with Kenji?
She felt like she was being loved just for surviving.
“You make it sound so easy,” Tasha said, her voice barely a whisper. “Being a warrior is tiring, Kenji. Sometimes I just want to... stay in bed and hide.”
