thirteen #2
He tilted his head toward Seth and Tati, who were now in their own quiet little bubble. "The guy you keep eyeing back there. That type of guy."
I let out a breath of a laugh. "Not really."
Dion raised a brow. "What's your type, then?"
I shrugged. "Someone kind. Grounded."
Dion smirked. "So not a football player."
"Not usually."
He laughed, deep and smooth, leaning back in his chair. "Damn. That's cold."
I smiled, sipping my water. "Honest."
He pointed at me with his glass. "I'll take that."
He launched into a story about some hotel incident during preseason in L.A.—something about his cleats getting stolen, and a rookie prank gone wrong. Tati laughed at the right parts, even added a dramatic gasp, but my mind was elsewhere.
Across the room, Brooks was speaking now. Whatever he was saying, the others were listening. One man leaned forward like he was taking mental notes. The woman beside him barely blinked, her gaze fixed on him the way people stare at something important.
That version of him—the one in pressed navy and low lighting, speaking with confidence and no trace of hesitation—felt like someone I hadn't met yet.
Or maybe someone I was never supposed to know at all.
I felt Dion's hand brush the edge of my elbow.
"You good?" he asked, quieter this time.
"Yeah," I lied.
"You sure? You kinda dipped out there for a sec."
I shook my head, blinking fast. "Just tired."
He didn't press. Just poured me another inch of wine and went back to his steak.
And I tried not to look again.
But I did.
Because even in all this noise, I still felt him.
Even when he pretended I wasn't there.
Dion kept the conversation going with a smoothness that only came from practice.
He talked about a recent trip to Mexico, something about training in high altitude, and how the seafood there was better than anything in Miami.
Tati chimed in with her usual ease, her laugh lilting and pretty, her hand on Seth's arm like it belonged there.
I nodded along where it made sense to. Laughed once. But the food on my plate was mostly untouched, and every so often, my eyes would drift.
Brooks was still all ease and edge.
He wasn't smiling much, but when he did, it was soft and subtle—like a man who knew how to play to a room without giving too much away. His hands moved slow, deliberate. His shoulders stayed relaxed, posture upright without looking forced. The men around him leaned in whenever he spoke.
I forced myself to eat a few bites of pasta I didn't taste. The plate in front of me could've been anything. I was too focused on the way my chest felt—tight and full and hollow all at once.
Eventually, the waiter came by to clear the plates, his white towel tucked at his hip like a badge of honor. He asked about dessert, but Seth waved him off. "We'll get out of here before I fall asleep at the table," he joked.
As the plates were cleared and the last of the wine poured, the conversation loosened into easy laughter. The energy changed—less performative, more unbuttoned. Seth leaned back with his arm around Tati, and Dion tapped at his phone like he was checking the next move.
"Yo," Seth said, flashing a grin. "You down for the after-party?"
Tati's brows lifted slightly. "What after-party?"
"My boy's hosting an event at Cupids," Dion cut in.
Tati glanced at me.
I didn't say anything, but I didn't have to. She saw it in my face. We spent majority of our time at the club, so in my free time that was the last place I wanted to be.
She straightened, casual but firm. "Ahh, We can't. we've got work tonight
"Oh, word?" Dion looked over, a little surprised.
I nodded once, grateful for the out. "Yeah."
"That sucks," Seth offered. "Y'all need a ride at least?"
"No, we're good," Tati said quickly. "You guys go ahead and have fun."
We stood and said our goodbyes—the kind that are half-real, half-performance. Dion pulled me in for a light hug, said something about "next time," and I smiled like I might actually mean it.
Outside, the city had softened. The air still held heat but carried the promise of midnight. Tati's Uber arrived first. She hugged me tight, her cheek brushing mine.
"It wasn't that bad right?" she whispered.
"No it was good. I had a good time."
"Text me when you're in."
"I will."
She climbed in, the car pulling away a few seconds later. Her laughter still lingered faintly in the air.
I stayed behind.
Leaning against the cool stone edge of the building, arms crossed, dress sticking slightly to the backs of my thighs. I didn't check my phone. I didn't need to. I just needed to be still for a second.
Then—
A familiar SUV rolled to the curb.
Monte stepped out, tall and sharp in his usual black. His eyes lit up when he spotted me.
"Well, if it isn't Miss Amira," he said with a warm grin.
"Hey," I said, already smiling back.
"You waiting on someone?"
"Just my Uber."
He nodded, glancing down at his phone as it buzzed. "Still driving this circus around," he muttered. "One second."
He stepped away, already answering the call, his voice low and clipped.
I turned slightly, just enough to catch my reflection in the restaurant's tall windows. The black backless dress I'd chosen earlier suddenly felt like the wrong kind of armor. I looked like someone who belonged here. But standing outside, alone, I didn't feel like that girl at all.
And then—
The door opened again.
A rush of cool air and familiar laughter followed.
I didn't have to turn.
I felt it in the shift.
The pause in conversation. The sudden vacuum of energy as Brooks stepped into view with his group.
He didn't see me at first. Or maybe he did and just didn't show it.
Then our eyes met.
His mouth didn't move. His brow didn't shift. He looked at me like I was scenery. Like I was part of the background.
Like I hadn't mattered at all.
My chest pulled tight. My throat itched with words I wouldn't say. And just like that, he turned toward the SUV.
Monte cut the call and stepped back to open the door for him.
He gave me one last glance—so faint, so unreadable it might've never happened.
Then he climbed in.
Monte offered a small nod. "Take care, alright?"
"You too."
The door shut.
The SUV pulled away.
And I was still standing there.
Waiting on a ride.
But already feeling like I'd been left.