5. Fontaine Jackson #2
Even in the half-empty lounge, Nairobi’s presence was magnetic.
She knew the effect her presence had on men and was completely unbothered by it.
She was beautiful—cocoa brown skin, her sharp features accentuated by her short hair, high cheekbones, full lips, and legs for days.
Tonight she had on a simple white tank top and jeans with diamond studs.
She took a sip of her wine, and my dick twitched at the way her tongue darted out to catch a stray drop from her lip.
Part of me wanted to sit at the bar and chat up Sheree, one of the bartenders I messed with occasionally, but my feet had a mind of their own and were heading in her direction.
She looked up before I reached the booth. Those dark eyes tracked me the way I noticed she tracked everything, like she was determining if I was a threat before I even opened my mouth.
“Fontaine,” she said.
“Nairobi.”
“You following me?”
“Nah,” I said as I slid into the booth next to her. “But if I was, would that be a problem?”
She tilted her head, considering me over the rim of her glass. “Depends on why.”
Sheree appeared at our table with a glass of bourbon for me. Nairobi frowned when she winked at me but quickly caught herself.
Interesting.
“Thanks, Sheree,” I said before turning my focus back to Nairobi. “You been here long?”
“Long enough to finish half this bottle. It was either this or stare at the ceiling at my condo.”
“Why you ain’t call somebody? Slim and Jelani are out tonight.”
“I don’t really hang out with people.”
“But you’re hanging out with me,” I smiled.
She rolled her eyes. “You invited yourself into my space. I’d hardly call this hanging out.”
“Fair enough,” I said, taking a sip of my bourbon. “So what, you just sit alone drinking wine by yourself on a Friday night?”
“Sometimes. I like my own company. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. Just trying to figure you out.”
“Good luck with that,” she scoffed and poured herself another glass.
I leaned back, stretched my arm across the top of the booth, and spread my legs. She didn’t move away when my knee brushed hers.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked.
“You’ve been asking me things since you sat down, so clearly you don’t need my permission.”
“You and Cash?—”
”No,” she said flatly, cutting me off before I could finish.
“No what? You don’t even know what I was gonna ask.”
“You were going to ask about me and Cash. And the answer is no, we’re not a thing. We’ve hooked up a few times, haven’t in a while, and it’s not something I talk about.”
I tapped the table. “That’s three answers. I only needed one.”
She cut her eyes at me like she wanted to smack me, but there was the faintest hint of amusement on her face. “You’re annoying.”
She relaxed a little bit after that. She had a dry sense of humor and every time I got her to smile, I felt like I’d won something. And the more comfortable she got, the more I noticed her noticing me.
Like the way her eyes lingered on my hands when I lifted my glass. How she started to inch closer to me and when she realized it, she scooted back a bit. She was trying to put a wall up, but it was failing.
Then I said something—I don’t even remember what—and she laughed. Not the controlled thing she did when she was around me and the guys. A real laugh—and it seemed to surprise her too. Her hand landed on my forearm to steady herself, and she left it there for a moment longer than necessary.
We both felt it.
Her smile faded. She pulled her hand back and grabbed her purse.
“I should go,” she said and suddenly the wall was back up.
“Yo, hold on?—”
Nairobi dropped some cash on the table and slid out the booth. “It’s late, Fontaine. Thanks for the company.”
She hurried for the exit without looking back.
“Nairobi.” I caught up to her on the sidewalk. The summer night air was humid and thick around us. “What just happened?”
She was walking fast in the direction of her condo. “Nothing. I’ve had too much to drink and I’m tired.”
“Bullshit. You were fine two minutes ago.”
She stopped at the corner and turned around. “What do you want me to say?” she asked, throwing her hands up.
“I want you to tell me why you just ran out on me like the building was on fire.”
She looked away. “Fontaine, this isn’t—” she stammered. “You’re one of Cash’s best friends. This shouldn’t be happening.”
“I thought there was nothing between you and Cash.”
She finally looked at me, and everything she wouldn’t say was right there on her face. The want. The internal battle she was having with herself about whether to let me in or shut this whole thing down.
I stepped closer. “Tell me to stop,” I said, sliding my hand around her waist.
Nairobi bit her bottom lip as I pulled her flush to me.
I don’t know why, but I leaned in and kissed her.
Her hands pressed against my chest like she was about to push me away, but then I felt her relax against me.
Her fingers found their way around my neck, and I tasted the Malbec she’d been drinking as the kiss deepened.
The sound she made against my mouth was so soft, I thought I imagined it.
But I didn’t. And I wasn’t imagining the way her body fit perfectly against mine.
Something clicked into place for me right then.
I’d wanted women before. Shit, I’d had plenty.
This wasn’t that. Nah, this was the kind of kiss that rearranged shit in your head, the kind that made you realize you’d been missing something you didn’t even know.
My hand moved to the back of her head, holding her there because I wasn’t ready for it to end.
When we finally pulled apart, her eyes were closed, her forehead resting against my chin. I could feel her heartbeat against my chest, racing just as fast as mine.
“This is a bad idea,” she whispered.
“Probably,” I said, my thumb tracing her jaw.
Whatever this was—good, bad—I was done. There was no going back to being casual acquaintances after this. She’d deaded all of that with one kiss, and I didn’t even think she knew it.
“Let me walk you home?” I asked.
She opened her eyes and looked up at me with a small smile.
“Goodnight, Fontaine.”
She pressed a kiss to my cheek, and I watched her, hands in my pockets, until she disappeared around the corner.
I was fucked.
My mind was all over the place between seeing Nairobi and what Parker had told me. There was no way I could go home. I drove straight to Cash and Jasmine’s condo. I never showed up to my friend’s spots unannounced, but this was an emergency.
“Did you know Nairobi was back?” I asked the moment he opened the door.
He looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head as he stepped aside to let me in.
“Yeah,” he said, walking over to the couch and muting the TV. “Jas told me.”
“The fuck? You couldn’t let me know?” I snapped.
I started pacing the living room, pulse racing. It felt like betrayal, even though I didn’t have the right to call it that.
“Nigga, take your fucking shoes off if you’re gonna do all that pacing,” he said, frowning.
I glared at him but did as he asked.
Cash moved over to the bar, pulled out a small box, and fished out a pre-roll. He sparked it and took a long pull before passing it to me.