Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
Chesteria
“Midnight Coffee it was laced with an unspoken need.
I wrapped my blanket tighter around my shoulders and stepped into the kitchen.
“I made enough for two,” he informed, pouring the dark liquid into mugs.
“Thanks,” I said as he offered one to me.
Bryce nodded in response.
“I guess you couldn’t sleep either, huh?” I asked, rubbing my arm as I leaned against the fridge.
“With all the shit that has transpired in the last forty hours or so? Hell no.”
I chuckled in agreeance, blowing softly on my coffee to cool it down.
“You wanna join me for a cup of coffee… or you got a meeting in the bedroom?”
I scoffed. “A meeting in the bedroom? Boy please! That meeting has been rescheduled… indefinitely.”
Bryce lifted a brow in confusion.
“I reassigned him to a different wing,” I playfully clarified. “New room. New bed. No access to executive privileges. HR was very clear.”
Bryce let out a low laugh. “Damn.”
“Yeah,” I shrugged. “I like my sleep uninterrupted and my peace non-negotiable. So yes—” I lifted my mug slightly, “I’ve got time to talk over a cup of coffee.”
He smirked. “Good.”
We moved to the dining table and sat. Above us, the chandelier-style light flickered just once, then again, like it was unsure if it wanted to keep working or quit mid-shift.
I peered up at the light, then back at Bryce. “You think it’s gonna get bad? Like… really bad?”
“It’s possible,” he replied. “But if it does… I’m prepared. You know that. You know me. I ain’t never gon’ let nothing happen to you.”
I didn’t say anything at first. I just nodded softly and glanced away, my gaze falling to the flickering shadow his words left in my chest.
I did know that… even when I wanted to pretend I didn’t…
even when I hated him for all the ways he left me to fight my own storms in the past. Deep down, I knew if shit ever hit the fan, Bryce Frost was the man I’d want in the room.
He was calm, capable, and covered in flaws, but still the safest place I’d ever known.
I finally looked back up at him, my voice quiet. “Yeah… I know.”
For a moment, it was just quiet sipping… then Bryce leaned forward, his voice low, but laced with that signature Bryce bite.
“Chesteria… who the hell did we bring here?
I brought a bougie-ass Instagram motivational speaker with a Wi-Fi addiction, a face full of filters, and a diet that screams ‘gluten-free, vegan-adjacent, oat-milk-everything, and lemon water with intention. And you brought a nigga who look like he got lost on his way to a job interview and just decided to stay.”
My laughter was loud, bold, and full-body shakes that felt liberating. The ridiculousness of the situation hit me full force.
“That nigga didn’t know the first thing about cutting wood. I watched him stand over a log like it was about to attack him first. He lifted the axe once, and I swear the axe tapped him on the foot like, try again, my boy. I had to help ‘em out.”
I chuckled. “I was watching from the inside before I came out, and he did seem like he needed supervision.”
Bryce sipped again, cool and slow, like that was therapy.
“The nigga say he from the trenches, but crumbles at cold weather and hard labor. He obviously got his survival tips from TikTok and ‘Hood Men Who Hike’ YouTube shorts. And that courage? Yeah… he had to buy it at the corner store with a half pint of off-brand tequila and two loose Swishers.”
“Bryce!” I wheezed.
I had to set my cup down to keep the coffee from spilling on me.
Bryce, however, wasn't done with his comedic break.
“For real, though… how he wanna build a legacy with you but can’t build a bunk bed?
Niggas always hollering ‘alpha’ but can’t alpha their way outta a flooded basement, can’t change a tire but got ‘Provider’ in their bio, can’t unclog a drain, can’t change a smoke detector battery without calling they daddy, gotta phone a friend just to hang a flat screen, don’t know where the breaker box at, ain’t touched a toolbox since middle school shop class and be thirty-three talkin' 'bout, ‘My uncle got a guy for that. If Alexa can’t do it, it ain’t getting done. Me? I grew up where winter meant work, and where being a man wasn’t optional… it was a requirement.”
Bryce shook his head.
I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. My laughter began to fade, but it left a smile behind.
“Okay, Adrian clearly isn’t shit; we can both agree on that,” I said, glancing at him, ready to shift topics. “But are you done so we can talk about Isis?”
With the mug to his lips, Bryce lifted one hand, palm out, basically saying, “go ahead.”
“So… Isis,” I started, loosening my neck as if preparing for a fight.
“For starters, let me just say, that girl changed clothes five times yesterday, and she complained about the cold nonstop! Do you know she even asked me if there was almond milk here? For her tea. Mind you, I haven't seen her drink a single drop of water since we’ve been here, but she had the nerve to ask if the tea kettle was BPA-free.” I couldn’t finish the thought without erupting into giggles.
"Like, girl, just say you scared of the air and go. "
Bryce snorted into his cup.
“Then... she wrapped herself in two throw blankets, talking ’bout, ‘This aesthetic is very rustic.’ No, this is survival!
Oh… and she sprayed perfume before bed, like she was headed to a dream gala.
I’m talkin’, full mist—neck, wrists, and ankles!
Like, sis, who you trying to seduce? Freddy Krueger? ”
That did it. Bryce lost it, laughing into his mug.
“She probably put on lip gloss too, just in case the sleep paralysis demon was cute,” I added.
We both snickered like kids, trying to keep our voices down in the still of the night. And for just a moment, the chaos of the trip, the awkwardness of exes and strangers under one roof… all of it faded. It was just us, again.
A pause settled.
Bryce glanced at me. The corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile.
“You always could get a laugh outta me… even when I was trying real hard to stay pissed.”
The words landed heavier than he probably intended, stirring a mix of nostalgia and a pang of vulnerability deep within me.
Bryce’s voice dropped, warm and certain. “But enough about them. I never got to tell you how beautiful you still look.”
Heat rushed up my throat and bloomed across my cheeks before I could stop it.
“Thank you,” I expressed, a small smile tugging at my lips, feeling both shy and flattered by his words. “And not much has changed with you either. You’re still smooth, still annoyingly handsome, and still walking around like you own every room you step in.”
Bryce let out a quiet laugh, head tilting back slightly, revealing the strong line of his jaw and that playful glimmer in his eyes. “You always did know how to humble me with a compliment. Can’t ever let me get too full of myself.”
“I try,” I replied with a small smirk, sipping my coffee again, the rich warmth grounding me. “But how is your mom doing? And Davion’s silly self?”
“Everybody’s good. You know they both know you here, right? Mama told me to tell you hey and that she’ll be praying over this trip. Davion said the same… minus the prayer, of course. He said, and I quote, ‘Tell Professor Hollis I said hey and to remember I was trying to wife her first.’”
“Davion always been a damn fool,” I remarked, shaking my head with a smile.
“Always.”
“But tell them both I said hello.”
Bryce raised an eyebrow. “But how has work been, though, Professor Hollis? Them young boys still flirting with you between lectures?”
I rolled my eyes, chuckling at the thought.
“I don’t think that’ll ever stop. I swear, these kids will shoot their shot in the middle of a discussion on systemic racism.
It’s wild. But work is good, though… heavy sometimes, but rewarding.
I get to actually see growth. I love that part.
” The fulfillment I derived from teaching always made the late nights and early mornings worth it.
Bryce smiled thoughtfully, his expression momentarily drifting back in time. “I remember back when we were in college, every time I turned around, you were talking about becoming a professor. Like, you’d be sitting on my floor, surrounded by books and notes, grading fake ass essays for fun.”
I chuckled at the memory. “I really did do that, huh? That had to be annoying.”
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “You was just determined. You always had that ‘I know what I want, and I’m gonna get it’ energy. That used to scare the hell outta me sometimes too.”
I looked down, smiling at the mug in my hands. “Well… thank you for remembering that.”
We sat with that for a second. My heart swelled with nostalgia and something deeper. Then, I glanced over, drawn back to the present.
“What about you? How’s work going?”
Bryce hesitated… just a beat, but I noticed it.
“It’s… work,” he simply replied, not meeting my eyes at first. “Same grind, different clock.”
I didn’t push. I should’ve known talking about his job was a touchy subject since it was the thing that swallowed our time, then our peace… and eventually, us. So I just nodded.
He got quiet again. Then, “Chesteria…”
I knew that tone, that hesitation, and that weight in the way he said my name.
“I think it’s time that we—”
But before he could finish, footsteps padded in, accompanied by a yawn that deserved a Grammy.
“Oh… there you are,” Isis cooed, rubbing her eyes like she’d just woken up from a princess nap. “I reached over, and you weren’t there. I was like, 'Where’s my teddy bear?'"
“Teddy bear? Isis, don’t call me that shit ever again,” he said, voice low and razor-clean. “Ain’t nothing ‘teddy’ about me, Isis. Wrong man, wrong nickname. And judging by how this trip going?” he added, tone clipped and cold, “You might be sleeping by yourself for the rest of it.”
Oops.
Isis’s mouth parted like she wanted to speak to the manager for his tone. When she spotted me, cozy in my blanket and coffee in hand, she quickly plastered her smirk back on like freshly applied foundation.
“Oh… I didn’t mean to interrupt your little midnight café.”
I smiled, calm and unbothered. “No worries. We were just wrapping up our conversation.”
Then I stood, slow and intentional, and brushed past her with a shoulder bump soft enough to pass as accidental but heavy enough to say everything she needed to hear.
“It was good catching up with you, Bryce. Goodnight,” I taunted, allowing a hint of mischief to dance in my voice.
He gave me a solemn look with something unsaid lingering in his eyes.
I didn’t need to hear it… I already knew.