TWENTY-SIX
The guys are talking, but I’m barely paying attention. I’ve been down since the phone call with Davia on Tuesday. I can’t stop thinking about how she allows that undeserving fool to waste her time. I can give her so much more if she let me.
My hand freezes with the drink when the source of my deep longing enters the club. Davia’s gorgeous with her bouncy curls, her curves accentuated in the blue cowl-neck mini dress, and red lipstick emphasizing her full lips. God is a woman .
Excitement propels me from my seat as she climbs the stairs, hips swaying from side to side.
“You came,” I say when she reaches the top. “Thought it was date night with ol’ boy.”
She turns her head slowly. “Canceled.”
“Huh. Surprise, surprise.”
“Don’t,” she breathes out. “I want to relax tonight.”
“Okay.” I motion to my friends. “Come sit for a bit.”
She follows me to the table and waves. “Hey, y’all.”
“Sup, Davia?” Cairo grins as he looks between us. “Good to see you again.”
Preston nods. “Yeah, you had our boy moping.”
“Shut up.” I slap the back of his neck.
“Did I lie, though?” he chuckles. “Look how fast you moved when you saw her.”
Davia flashes me a shy smile and cuts away.
I gesture to the seat next to mine, asking once we sit, “You drinking?”
“Coconut mojito, please,” she says.
“Sure.” I signal my waitress, and she brings Davia’s drink and more liquor to the table.
Iree returns, crumpling her brows when she sees her co-worker on her seat. “Oh, hi, girl.”
“What’s up?” Davia replies before sipping.
“Jamir’s never with you, huh,” Iree remarks, sitting beside her brother.
“Don’t worry about it,” I clip.
“Damn, Kross,” she laughs it off. “I didn’t mean it in a shady way. You know that, D.”
“Mmhm.” Davia shifts on the seat and chugs half her drink. She seems even more troubled tonight.
The music stops, and Troy taps on the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome an artist making her debut performance. Give it up for Ashia.”
Everyone claps as the young singer takes the stage, long braids swaying behind her. “How y’all doing? This is my debut single, Crossing Lines .”
“She’s gorgeous,” Cairo perks up, eyes gleaming.
“She’s twenty-one.”
“Damn,” he drones. “Too young for me.”
The band starts playing a smooth neo-soul melody, and Ashia’s angelic harmonies serenade the club.
As she sings the first verse, I realize the lyrics tell the familiar story of two people meeting at the wrong time, but everything feels right between them.
I glance at Davia. She’s rocking to the song, seeming entranced by the melodies. “Let’s dance.”
She flicks to Iree briefly and steers back to me, swallowing before she nods.
Holding her hand, I lead her downstairs to the main floor. We begin dancing. This time, she allows me to touch her waist.
“You all right?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Tired of being last place. I’m tired of him pushing me to the side and neglecting me.”
That irks every fiber of my being. “Is that why you’re here, Davi? You through with him?”
Please say yes .
She sighs. “Truth is, you have a way of calming me.”
“I’ll do more when you’re ready. You deserve to be happy, baby girl. You should always be a top priority.”
All that reflects in her beautiful eyes is unmistakable yearning. “Why are you saying those things to me, Kross? Are you just trying to hit?”
“Shorty, stop that. I’m serious. I haven’t been interested in anyone else since we met. I’m into you bad, and I’ll do what it takes to show you.”
Instead of responding, she rests her head against my chest and continues swaying with me through another slow song by Ashia.
The talented singer fades out a minute later with melodious runs, receiving loud applause from the crowd. “All right. Let’s take it up.”
Davia eases back when the tempo switches to something upbeat. “I’m not in the mood for that type of dancing.”
“Let’s go for a drive then,” I say, holding her hand.
“But…” She looks up at the VIP and refocuses on me. “You want to leave your club?”
“Yeah, I could use some air. I’m sure you do, too.”
She takes a breath and nods in agreement. “Could we get strawberry shortcake?”
I smile. “Anything you want, baby.”
After the way our last phone call went, I didn’t think I’d be sitting in my car tonight with Davia, enjoying a vegan dessert while staring at the lit harbor.
Her slick ass forks off a piece of my cake despite having her own. “Shorty,” I playfully scold. “I got you a bigger slice.”
She giggles. “I’m trying to make mine last longer.”
“Geez.” I chuckle and continue eating.
Relishing another forkful, she moans while leaning back. I watch her, thinking how good it feels to hang out like this.
Her deep sigh makes me ask, “What’s up?”
“My mom’s pregnant,” she reveals in a murmur.
I almost choke on my dessert. “Congratulations?”
She wobbles her head. “I am happy for my mom. It’s just… This baby gets to have all of her. He or she won’t experience the hurt of being left behind like unwanted baggage at our grandparents. The way Mom dumped me on them to live her life child-free. It feels unfair. I’m jealous.” She takes a breath and looks at me. “Does that make me a bad person?”
“Not at all. Your feelings are valid.”
She sniffs. “Sorry for venting to you about my mom when you have your own problems.”
“I’m here whenever you want to talk. I’ll listen.”
“Thanks, Kross. Likewise.” I make out her smile before she returns to her dessert.
We finish up and continue staring at the harbor.
“How’s work?” I ask. “You started the production for your line?”
Her eyes glisten like stars. “Yes, and it’s so exciting. Once I finish the first looks, Chavonne will provide her final critique, and it’s off to the warehouse. The process is long, but having my designs available at the end of August is worth it.”
I bob while listening and absorbing everything. “You make it seem fun and fulfilling. Many people hate what they do, but you love your career.”
“I’m living my dream,” she gushes. “Not too many people can say that.”
“Mmhm.”
“What about you?” she asks, shifting on the seat to face me fully. “What’s your dream?”
“To achieve all my goals without compromising my morals and what I stand for.”
“That’s admirable.”
After a pause, I take the chance to ask, “Can we hang out tomorrow?”
“You mean at the youth center?”
“I mean just us. We could grab lunch, visit a museum, eat more strawberry shortcake, and maybe have dinner and stargaze.”
“That’s a whole day together.” She leans her head to the side. “Are you asking me out, Kross?”
I touch her hand. “Yeah, I am.”
She eases from me and exhales deeply. “Someone might see us. I’m still in a relationship.”
“With a man who makes you sad. You want to feel happy again, baby?”
“I think…” She clicks her tongue. “You should probably take me home.”
“Is that what you want?”
“No, but it’s the right thing,” she says in a near whisper.
“Wait. You said no.”
“Kross,” she groans.
“Baby girl, if you keep saying my name all horny like that, I’ll hold you hostage in this car and give you multiple orgasms.”
She snaps her head to me. “Kross!”
“I’m just saying.”
“Gosh.” She rests her head against the seat.
“Have lunch with me tomorrow. Don’t say no.”
“Yes,” she murmurs and looks at me. “And…”
“And?” I urge, reaching for her hand again. “Tell me what you want. Focus on the feeling.”
“Um, I want you to bring me home and stay a while.”
“Really?” Now, it’s my voice that’s a near whisper.
“Yes,” she affirms. “Take me home.”
“Okay.”
My heart races with anticipation the entire drive to her apartment. There aren’t any open slots in front, so I slow down a few cars away and kill the engine.
“Davi, be clear with me. If I come in, are we—”
“Shit,” she gasps, staring out the windshield.
I follow her line of sight and spot Jamir’s bitch-ass exiting the Range Rover. He doesn’t look in our direction. He continues to the stairs.
“You want me to leave or stay?” I look at her.
She turns to me with a frown. “I don’t want to hurt him.”
My stomach drops. “I’m leaving.”
“Kross—”
“Forget about tomorrow. Goodnight, Davia.”
She quickens out of my car and slams the door.
I peel off without waiting for her to enter her apartment. It hurts too much knowing who’s inside waiting for her.