I swallowed. This was it. Mekhi reached for my hand under the table, squeezing gently, reassuring me. It was like a silentI got this.
“Yes, sir,” he said. “She’s welcome as long as she wants to stay. We really want the opportunity to get to know each other better. My home is safe. Quiet. And I give her her space.”
My mother’s brows lifted. “You give her space?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mekhi said. “I respect her independence. Her ambitions. I want her to feel supported, not supervised.”
My parents turned to look at me slowly, their expressions confused but hopeful.
“I’m very fond of her,” Mekhi added quietly.
Fond?Come on, now, nigga! Spreading it a little too thick. But when I looked at him, I couldn’t see the lie. His eyes…
My heart seemed to be warming up for NASCAR, fast as it was beating. I swallowed, looked away before I forgot this wasn’t real.
My mother pressed her lips together like she didn’t want to approve of him but had no choice.
“Well,” she finally said, “that is reassuring.”
My father cleared his throat. “Very reassuring.”
Then the waiter returned to refill our drinks.
“Another glass?” he asked my mother.
She glanced at Mekhi. “Yes, but only if my daughter’sboyfriendis having something as well.”
The man smiled. “Yes ma’am. What can I get you, sir?”
Mekhi didn’t miss a beat. “Sweet tea, please. Therealkind.”
My mother smiled.
Dinner went well. Mekhi absolutely charmed my parents—and me, too, just a little.
As we walked out to the parking lot and my parents said long, way too enthusiastic goodbyes, he leaned down and murmured, “You okay?”
“I’m alive,” I whispered. “Barely.”
He smirked. “Way you had me in there on that preppy shit, you better be more than alive. I’m slutting you out tonight, Little Thug. Fucking you ‘til you hoarse from screaming. Gotta earn my street cred back.”
I turned my nose up at him.
But my pussy jumped like Kris Kross was down there visiting.
“You were different in there,” I said as he walked me to my car.
“Yeah?” he asked, teasing. “Which version you like better?”
“I like both,” I admitted before I could stop myself.
I felt my cheeks warm. He opened my door, buckled me in, dropped a kiss on my lips.
“Good. ‘Cause I like you, too, Little Thug. Now drive yo’ ass straight to the house and strip.”
I did exactly what he said.
The waitingroom smelled like bleach and trapped air. I hated it the minute I walked in there. Shit got under my skin, reminded me too much of things I didn’t like thinking about. Time I’d spent in jail cells. The things I’d done to get there. The possibility that if I took one wrong step on my way out, made one wrong choice, this could be my whole world.
