CHAPTER FOUR | A LITTLE PROMO
Copyright & Disclaimer
This story is inspired by true events. Certain names, characters, locations, details, and circumstances have been changed, fictionalized, or combined for creative purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons or events beyond those that inspired the story is coincidental.
© 2026 Shamar Phillips. All rights reserved.
Too Much Like Love
I’ve had my fair share of failed relationships. That’s why I reminded myself to steer clear of love and other drugs.
I didn’t date. I didn’t give out my phone number. I hadn’t even had sex in over five years. Not with another person, anyway.
When I woke up the next morning, still reeling from the poetic sensation I felt the night before, I snuck out of bed and went to my shower. It was still stormy outside, but not enough to keep me from pleasuring myself. The gloom was actually a nice complement to my mood, setting the perfect ambiance for the wild thoughts running through my head.
I stood underneath the stream of warm water, letting it run down my back like the hands of the man who had me in disarray. I wished he was behind me. His lips on my neck would have opened me up like a flower in bloom.
But he was still in bed where I left him.
My breathing got heavier the more I thought of his slickness. His sly smile and smart remarks were like petroleum on the tips of my fingers, and the deeper I inserted them into my field of blossom, the wetter my garden became.
I was surprised by how quickly my flood overflowed—embarrassed even. I didn’t climax that fast or hard while using my rose, but a simple thought of him made me feel like a virgin again.
After I was satisfied and done lecturing myself about being so hot in the twat, I got dressed and went downstairs to return the favor. Since he had cooked breakfast for me, comforted me during the storm, and was so cool about sharing the cottage with me, making sure he had a hot meal when he woke up was the least I could do.
I danced around the kitchen, naked underneath my robe, not caring about the roaring thunder and vengeful lightning outside. I was on cloud nine after a nice release, and excited to give the man upstairs something to come down to.
When my favorite Layton Greene song was interrupted by a phone call, I was a little annoyed. Until I saw that it was Trinity calling. The storm had let up just enough for the call to come through, so I took the time, while I had it, to let her know that I was safe.
“Girl! What the hell? I been calling you since your flight said it landed. You good? I thought I was gon’ see your ass on the news as the latest victim of Wolf Creek.”
A laugh so loud escaped my gut; I thought for sure I had woken Shamar. But then I remembered the oversized fan that blew so hard it rattled the bed all night, and knew he hadn’t heard a thing.
“I’m fine,” I laughed. “It’s storming out here, so I barely have any service.”
“Storming? I thought you was going to some kind of tropical island?”
“I thought so too. It slipped my mind that our weather and the weather here aren’t on the same timeline.”
“Oooh, that’s right,” Trinity said, like she had cracked the code of science. “Damn. I didn’t even think about that. Well, at least I know your ass alive. Me and the kids was about to fly over there and give someone a flogging.”
I cracked up at her interpretation of an Australian accent. If we weren’t so deeply rooted in the Carolinas that the country twang was embedded in our DNA, she would’ve had it perfectly.
“Please, Trinity,” I laughed. “Stop making me laugh. I don’t wanna be too loud so early in the morning.”
“Why not?” she sounded curious. “Ain’t you staying in some cabin in the woods? Who gon’ hear you, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs?”
I swear Trinity was a comedian in her past life. It didn’t matter how serious she was; everything she said sounded funny.
Since she was my big sister, however, I didn’t want to tell her about the double-booking mix-up because I didn’t want her to worry. But as my agent and talent manager, I knew it was a good idea to let her know what was going on, just in case the story got leaked and the blogs had a field day with it.
“Well… there was a mix-up with the booking somehow. So… I’m not alone. But… the person I’m here with is someone we both know of.”
I don’t know why I was so nervous to tell Trinity I was there with Shamar. Maybe because after our parents died she became my third parent, I guess. She was only five years older than me, but she acted like we had a twenty year age-gap. Sometimes, I was afraid to tell her anything.
“There with who?” I heard her eyebrow raise through the phone. “Don’t tell me you fucking with that stupid ass nigga, Brian, again.”
“Hell, no! Trinity. Ugh,” I cringed. “No. Not him.”
“Well then, who is it?”
His name danced at the tip of my tongue. I couldn’t even say it without smiling and getting butterflies. I felt like the moment I said it, he would come downstairs and read all the nasty thoughts I had of him in my mind. I also felt like Trinity would hear it and run to the blogs herself. She was always on the hunt for the next viral moment that would jumpstart my career again.
“Oh, my God, fine,” I huffed. “I’m here with Shamar Phillips.”
The phone went silent on her end. I knew she was doing one of two things: trying to remember who he was, or she knew who he was and she was trying to get herself in order before she flew off the hinges with excitement.
When she said, “BIIIITCH” I knew it was the latter.
She knew exactly who I was talking about.
And that was the start of everything.
“What you doing there with Shamar?” Her tone was secretive and curious. “Let me find out you snuck off to some lil’ getaway to get your cobwebs knocked off. Oooo, I knew your quiet ass was slick.”
I had to take my headphones off and put my phone on speaker because I felt like I couldn’t concentrate on the stove. Between my dirty thoughts of Shamar, Trinity’s curiosity, and the crackling of bacon sizzling in the pan, the world around me was way too loud.
“That is not what I came here to do,” I laughed. “I didn’t even know he would be here. The host made a mistake and double-booked the cottage, so we both ended up in the same place. That’s crazy, though, right?”
“Uh, hell yeah that’s crazy! What’s the odds of you trying to get back on the scene and you randomly end up booking the same cottage as one of the biggest names in the game? That’s a sign. You know that’s a sign, right?”
Trinity was worse than me when it came to superstitions. Everything was a sign to her. Numbers. Names. Songs she heard on the radio. Everything! Sometimes, I thought she was just paranoid because of our parents. But the more she talked about the signs, the more I felt like she might have been right.
“Please don’t come up with one of your crazy promo schemes again,” I said. “I’m here to write; I need to keep a spotless mind.”
“And you still need promo,” she scoffed. “You need to get your name out there in a dramatic way if you wanna have a big comeback, Evie. People need to see that you ain’t just been sitting around twiddling your thumbs for ten years. You need to come back with a bang, and right now, you in the perfect place and with the perfect man to do so.”
I wasn’t exactly following Trinity’s trail of breadcrumbs the way she wanted me to. I was too busy trying to make sure my eggs were fried hard but not burnt. I did know the new works of social media, though, and she was right. Unfortunately, if you wanted a huge buzz, you had to do something to go viral.
I thought since my last book was such a huge success that when people heard I was finally making a comeback, that would be enough. But Trinity didn’t think so.
“Tell me about him. What’s he like? He got a girlfriend? Let me see if I can come up with something good to work with.”
“No. No, no. We are not piggybacking off him to make a comeback. If I absolutely have to go viral to get a buzz going, we’ll find another way to do it.”
“Girl! You always wanna do things the hard way, when all you gotta do is take a couple pictures with him being all cute, post them, make the fans think y’all talking, and BAM. You in there. That man is FOINE, and so are you. So what’s the problem?”
The problem was my emotions. Anything that had to do with a relationship, dating, falling in love, I didn’t take lightly. I certainly didn’t think it was some kind of tool to use for social media.
Shamar had a strong buzz. People knew his work; he had connections with publishers; everything I needed to push through the barrier that stood in my way, but I didn’t want to play with either of our hearts for the luxury.
“You want me to fake a relationship just to get people talking? What happens if one of us actually starts taking it seriously?”
“What’s wrong with that? People fall in love every day.”
Trinity spoke as if she didn’t see any issue at all. But had she felt what I felt the night before, her grand scheme wouldn’t have been a conversation.
“It’s a hard no for me,” I said. “I don’t wanna pretend like I’m in a relationship, so think of something else. I’m gonna get back to cooking breakfast, and then I’m gonna go write. If the weather allows it, I’ll reach out later to check in. I love you, crazy lady.”
“Fine,” Trinity sassed. “I love you too. Bye.”
I hit end on the call and turned around to put my phone on the island behind me, only to see Shamar standing in the doorway that led to the kitchen. I screamed so loud I hurt my own ears, and stubbed my toe on the corner of the island in the process. He laughed at me, but immediately came to make sure I was ok.
I was. But I was mad that he scared me.
“What the hell are you doing just standing there like some crazy psycho killer!?” I snapped. “You’re supposed to make noise when you come into the room!”
“My bad. You were on the phone. I didn’t wanna be rude.”
He helped me to a chair and knelt down to check on my toe, while I sat there trying to catch my breath after almost having a heart attack.
“It’s not broken.” He gently wiggled it from side to side and then up and down. “You wanna put some ice on it?”
“No. It’s fine. I’ll be alright.”
I eased my foot from his hand and limped back to the stove to finish breakfast. Although I would have preferred to sit there letting him massage my foot all day, a girl had to keep her temptations in check.
“I take it you heard my crazy sister’s scheme to go viral?” I asked as I removed bacon from the pan.
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “She ain’t all the way wrong. It’s a good idea for your comeback.”
I shot him a confused glare as he stood at the fridge, drinking from a bottle of orange juice. I was surprised to see that he was fully clothed, and even more surprised that he agreed with Trinity.
“What?” he shrugged. “It’s good promo. You been out the game for a long time, Sister Souljah. You need all the hype you can get. It’s gritty in Bookland.”
I loved the way he said Bookland. Like Brooklyn, without the R.
I wasn’t too excited about a fake relationship, though. Not with him.
“Y’all are crazy,” I laughed. “And I’m not about to entertain the shenanigans. I made breakfast. So, we’re gonna eat, and then I’m going to spend my day writing.”
“Look,” he said, smiling. “You sounding like a girlfriend already.”
He pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweats and snapped a selfie of himself, with me in the background, dishing out our plates. I was blushing so hard that my whole face was hot.
When I saw him pull up Instagram and get ready to post the photo, I grew nervous and stopped him.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m posting a picture,” he said. “What’s your IG so I can tag you?”
“You’re not posting that,” I said, trying not to smile. “What are people gonna think?”
“They’re gonna think two writers linked up and about to drop something dope. The more we post, the closer we get, the more their wheels start spinning about what you got going on. I’m just a pawn in this game, letting my girl have her way. And when you ready to start promoting your new project, people are already waiting on it.”
He spoke so matter-of-factly, like I didn’t have a choice but to do what he said.
I was on the fence about the plan and everything that could go wrong with it, but I was more turned on than anything. And the fact that he agreed with Trinity and instantly got to work on it was so… sexy.
“What happens when people start to think we’re together for real?” I asked. “They’re gonna wanna see real intimacy, and if it isn’t there, you know they’re gonna call us out.”
“Well, right now, all they can do is speculate.” He handed me his phone so that I could approve the post before tagging myself. “Don’t think too hard about it. Just be natural. We already got chemistry anyway, so it won’t be hard.”
The smile I was trying to fight showed its teeth when I read the caption, Some stories write themselves❤️. It was a nice touch—ambiguous, but not too misleading.
I loved how great he was with his words. It made me feel like I was amongst someone I could talk to and be as sarcastic and witty as I really was because he was the same way.
“There.” I handed his phone back after tagging myself. “I hope this doesn’t come back to bite. If it does... I’m blaming you.”
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