Give Me More Read Free Page A

famous artist. I had moved in with a guy, of course. I thought we were in love.  He was a white guy and a musician and we had planned an amazing bohemian lifestyle that would morph into a life of fame and fortune. Of course, it didn’t work out that way. I had struggled to find any work, my waitressing job leaving me so tired that I barely had any energy to paint. And then I finally got fired, only to come home and find my boyfriend in bed with a tiny white ballerina who barely looked legal.
     
    After a shouting match, it finally came out that my boyfriend thought I was a chubby black chick, washed up, and not a real talent. He would rather be with his skinny white ballerina (and her daddy’s trust fund) so I had packed up my few belongings and stormed out.
     
    The problem was, I was too broke to even get back to my parents and beg them to house me until I was able to get on my feet a pursue a more practical career and find a nice black guy like they had always wanted.
     
    I made my way to the wooden bench outside and dropped my small pile of bags to the floor. A wave of hopelessness washed over me and I finally let the tears I’d been bottling up to freely flow down my cheeks and splash onto the old wood. I had taken a risk, pursued my passion, and believed in love…and all it had brought me was despair.
     
    “Pardon me, but I couldn’t help but notice you here looking so sad. Would it be alright if I sat here next to you?”
     
    I looked up to see a very handsome, rugged-looking white man staring down at me. He had a chiseled jaw and dark brown hair that brought out the golden tones of his tanned skin and the flecks of gold in his piercing green eyes. It was hard to look away and I found myself at a complete loss for words so I merely nodded sadly.
     
    “I don’t mean to be intrusive, but I’ve been wondering why such a beautiful woman would be sitting here looking so very sad,” the man said quietly as he sat down next to me.
     
    “My life kind of just unraveled,” I admitted, trying to discretely wipe the tears from my cheeks. “I moved here to be an artist and live with my boyfriend but I failed and he cheated on me with this skinny white chick. I was going to give up and go home to my parents, but I couldn’t even scrounge together enough for the bus fare so now I’m stuck here with no money and nowhere to go.”
     
    I stopped talking, realizing it might sound like I was hosting my own pity party. I wasn’t sure what had made me be so suddenly forthcoming, but something about this attractive white stranger next to me made me feel like opening up and bearing my soul.
     
    “That’s a hell of a lot of bad luck,” the stranger noted, gently picking up my hand and holding it. His palm was warm and rough and somehow it comforted me more than I expected. “I just came in from a visit out of town and was about to head back to my place. If you need a place to stay, you are welcome to come with me. I have a spare room and it seems like you could use some rest. Tomorrow we can figure out how to get you wherever it is you are heading.”
     
    I wasn’t usually the kind of girl who would go home with strange men, but something made me trust this man, and it wasn’t like I had many other options anyway.
     
    “Thank you,” I sighed with relief. “I’m Marissa, by the way.”
     
    “What a beautiful name. Pleased to meet you, Marissa. I’m Gabe.”
     
    I followed Gabe to his car and he helped me place my bags in the trunk. He only had one small duffle bag to fit in next to my little assortment. “I was out camping,” he said with a smile when he noticed my curious look at his dirtied, roughed up bag.
     
    Luckily, his apartment was the precise opposite. It was hugely spacious and beautifully furnished and smelled of lemon. It must have cost a fortune in rent. Despite being impeccably clean, it felt warm and homey.
     
    “Do you like pasta? I could make us some dinner while you shower and get