9. The Dangerous Ex
THE DANGEROUS EX
“Hi.”
That was it.
No buildup. No warning. Just ‘hi.’
And somehow, that single word hit harder than anything else he could’ve said.
I remained frozen in my seat, because there he was.
Kyle.
The Dangerous Ex.
Standing in front of me like he hadn’t just walked back into my life uninvited. Like he hadn’t just interrupted something I was barely holding together.
Tonight, he was dressed like trouble dressed up for a theme it didn’t fully respect.
A fitted flannel shirt snapped cleanly across his chest, tracing the kind of shape that made you suddenly aware of your own breathing.
The sleeves clung to his biceps like they had something to prove.
Even the way it tapered at his waist made it unfairly obvious that he knew exactly what his body did to my insides.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.
Kyle didn’t answer right away. He just looked at me—that same infuriating, knowing look—like he was enjoying this a little too much.
Up close, his eyes made it impossible to think in full sentences.
Soft in the worst possible way—puppy-eyed, like he was always one second away from asking for forgiveness he didn’t actually mean.
Except it wasn’t innocent. It was intentional.
Like he knew exactly what that look did to people like me… and used it anyway.
His face was no better. Sharp features cut through the softness—high cheekbones, a jaw that looked carved rather than grown, a faint beard shadow that never quite disappeared no matter how clean he kept it.
And that well-trimmed goatee, like he had decided every detail of his face should feel like a warning.
Before he could say anything, Andre stood up.
“Brother!” he said, grinning, pulling him into a quick hug like they hadn’t seen each other for years. “You made it.”
I blinked.
Wait.
“Andre, what’s happening?” I repeated, looking between them.
Andre pulled back, clapping Kyle on the shoulder like this was the most normal thing in the world.
“I invited him,” he said casually.
I stared at him.
“You invited him,” I echoed. “Why?”
Andre gave me a look. “Come on now.”
“No, don’t ‘come on now’ me, Andre,” I shot back. “You know I hate him.”
“Do you now?” Kyle finally spoke, his voice smooth—amused.
I turned to him slowly.
God!
That smirk.
That stare.
That charm.
He was exactly the same—light, teasing, just enough confidence to be irritating and attractive at the same time.
“I do,” I said flatly.
Kyle nodded like he was considering it. “It’s not the vibe I’m getting from you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh God!”
Andre chuckled under his breath, clearly entertained.
“Kyle’s in town,” he said, like that explained everything. “Thought it would be nice for everyone to catch up.”
“Everyone?” I repeated. “I thought I was the only one who has poor decision-making skills, Andre?”
Kyle let out a small laugh at that.
“You’re still funny,” he said. “I was worried you’d lost that.”
I shot him a look. “I was worried you’d gained self-awareness. Guess we’re both disappointed, huh?”
“Not entirely,” he said, eyes flicking over me for half a second longer than necessary. “You look good.”
Shut the fuck up! I actually told that to my heart.
“You look stupid in your cowboy look,” I shot at him, but all he did was laugh at it.
Andre was no help.
I exhaled sharply, already annoyed at how easily he slipped into this—like no time had passed. Like nothing happened.
He still knew how to get under my skin.
“Yeah, okay,” I muttered, grabbing my drink from the waiter who just arrived with my glass of Bacardi and Coke. “I’m not doing this.”
I took a gulp—and immediately regretted it.
“It’s so strong!” I choked, coughing into my fist.
“Let me sit beside you,” Kyle said, taking a step closer.
“I’m leaving,” I said, already standing, still recovering from the burn of the alcohol. “This is a mistake.”
Kyle smiled.
Of course he did.
That same slow, dangerous smile—like mistakes had always been his favorite thing to do.
“Just to remind you, some of your best decisions started like that,” he said lightly
I hated that my chest reacted.
I hated that part of me remembered what it felt like to be in his orbit.
I rolled my eyes hard enough to physically reset myself.
“Enjoy your reunion,” I muttered, already stepping away.
“James—” Andre started.
But I was already walking away. Because if I stayed there any longer, I might actually start enjoying Kyle’s company.
And that?
That was dangerous.
Days later, I found myself questioning my life choices.
Specifically, why I agreed to play badminton.
“Whose idea was this?” I asked, already out of breath, gripping the racket like it had personally offended me.
“Yours,” Andi said casually, not even looking at me as she served the shuttlecock across the court with surprising precision.
“That sounds like something I would say ironically and not literally,” I shot back.
Mel darted to the side, returning the shot with ease. “Well, it’s not ironic now. Move, James!”
“I am moving!” I said, taking two dramatic steps that did absolutely nothing to help volley the shuttlecock.
Beside me, Honey let out an exaggerated groan, bending slightly with her hands on her thighs.
“This is abuse,” she declared. “Why are we doing cardio in public? I didn’t sign up to sweat in front of strangers.”
“Speak for yourself,” Andi said. “I look hot.”
“You do look hot,” I admitted, wiping my forehead. “I look like I just got dumped and decided to run it off.”
“You did get dumped,” Mel pointed out.
“Exactly,” I said. “But I didn’t agree to this level of suffering.”
The shuttlecock dropped between me and Honey again, and we both just stared at it.
“Who’s getting that?” I asked, craving for air.
Honey shook her head. “Not emotionally, no.”
Andi groaned from across the net. “Oh my God! You two are useless!”
“It’s not our fault,” Honey said, straightening up. “Why is it even called a shuttlecock? That alone feels like a red flag.”
I snorted.
“Right?” she continued. “Like, who named this? And why does it feel like I’m chasing cocks around a court at ten in the morning?”
Andi held her laugh.
“You know the common thing about shuttlecocks and cocks?” I asked.
Honey shook her head.
“They both make you tired, uncomfortable, and sweaty,” I answered.
Andi choked from laughing.
Mel rolled her eyes. “Get the shuttlecock now!”
“At least the other kind is more rewarding,” Honey added while picking it up and passing it on to Mel.
“Can we focus?” Mel said, though she was trying not to laugh. “Some of us are actually trying to play.”
“You’re trying to win,” I corrected.
Mel was about to serve again when she paused, eyes drifting past us.
“Oh look,” she said.
I turned slightly. “What?”
Andi smirked. “Well, this just got interesting.”
I followed their gaze—and then froze for half a second.
“Isn’t that your ex?” Honey asked.
My stomach dropped.
I didn’t even want to ask.
Of course it was Kyle.
On the other court. Mid-game. Effortless. Like he belonged there. Like he belonged anywhere.
He caught me looking.
And then he smiled.
That same damn smile.
Easy. Familiar. Dangerous.
I rolled my eyes immediately, turning away like I hadn’t just felt my chest do something deeply inconvenient.
The second he started walking toward us, I suddenly became very interested in my water bottle, twisting the cap open like it required my full emotional attention.
“Oh my God,” Andi whispered behind me. “He’s coming here.”
“Don’t look,” Honey added.
Mel didn’t say anything—but I could feel her staring.
I took a long sip of water, facing away like that would somehow make me invisible.
“Hey,” Kyle said.
I didn’t turn.
“Kyle!” Honey greeted, a little too brightly.
“Hey!” Andi added, casual but curious.
Mel gave a small nod. “Kyle.”
“How are you guys?” he asked—easy—like this wasn’t loaded at all.
“Good,” Andi answered. “Very good, actually.”
“Not sure about this one,” Honey said, clearly pointing at me.
There was a beat.
And then—
“Hi, James.”
I closed my eyes briefly before turning around.
“What do you want?” I asked, flat.
Behind Kyle, I saw Andi gasp.
Kyle blinked once, then smiled—slow, amused.
“Straight to it,” he said. “I missed that.”
“I didn’t,” I shot back.
“Clearly so,” he replied, glancing at my racket. “You look… aggressive.”
“And you look like you should be somewhere else,” I said.
“Ouch,” he said lightly, placing a hand over his chest like I’d actually hurt him. “And here I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“Why would I be?”
Andi let out a quiet laugh. “Okay. This is fun.”
I shot her a look.
She raised both hands. “We’ll just be busy here.”
Kyle stepped a little closer—not enough to invade, but just enough to be felt… and smelled.
Clinique Happy for Men. God!
“I just wanted to say hi,” he said, voice softer now. “Didn’t expect to run into you here.”
“Yeah, well,” I said, gripping my racket a little tighter than necessary, “now you did. Congrats.”
Honey snorted.
Kyle glanced at her briefly, amused, then looked back at me.
“You always this nice when you’re out of breath?” he asked.
“I’m not out of breath, Babe—” I paused, shocked at saying our pet-name out loud. “—Kyle.” I corrected.
“Still babe,” Honey said calmly, half smiling.
I shot her a look too. “You are not helping.”
Kyle chuckled under his breath.
God! Stop!
“Come on,” he said, eyes back on me. “Let me take you out. Properly.”
There it was. The suave Kyle I knew.
“No.” I didn’t even hesitate.
Kyle tilted his head slightly. “No?”
“No,” I repeated, already stepping back. “I’m playing.”
And before he could say anything else, I turned and walked back onto the court, rotating my right arm like I knew what I was doing or that it settled everything.
But it didn’t. Because I could still feel him from behind.
Watching.
I forced myself to focus as Andi served, the game picking up again like nothing happened.
Except everything had.
A few minutes later, I glanced toward the sidelines.