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When I didn’t answer, Jason’s words swirling around my head, he added, “He’s a good guy, Mya.”

That was the problem though. Asher was good. He deserved a girl who could be in the moment with him one hundred percent. I wasn’t sure I could be that for him.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to be.

“You don’t think it would only make things worse for him?” I asked.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I huffed indignantly, annoyed at myself for even bringing it up. Maybe Flick was right, maybe I was making a bigger deal out of it than it needed to be.

We rode the rest of the way in silence. It was one thing I liked about Jason; he didn’t feel the need to fill awkward silences. He also didn’t push. He’d said his piece and now the ball was in my court.

Only I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do about it.

“Well damn, girl, if you don’t look like a bird is nesting in there.” Aunt Ciara eyed my wild curls with amusement.

I smoothed a hand over my bed hair and waved her off, making a beeline for the coffeemaker. I’d had a restless night, replaying things over in my head. The drunken conversation with Asher. The friendly advice from Felicity, and the strange ride home with Jason.

“Rough night?” my aunt asked.

“Something like that.” I made myself a mug of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.

“I was talking to Maeve yesterday and she told me the best news. Her grandson, Tyrese, is coming to stay for the holidays. Isn’t that great?”

My brows pinched, blood pounding between my ears. “Tyrese?”

“He’s a good boy. Studying business at UPenn, I think. Visits his gram whenever he can. I’m surprised he’s still single.”

“Aunt C,” I groaned, not liking where this was headed.

“Now now, don’t go getting all riled up. We know better than to meddle. But would it really hurt you to come visit them with me one day?”

Yes, yes it would. It was bad enough she had an opinion on everything but now she was trying to set me up with her friend’s grandson. It couldn’t get much worse.

“It won’t hurt for you to have another friend here, Mya,” she said when I didn’t answer.

“I have friends.”

“And I’m sure they’re great. But Tyrese is...” She hesitated.

“Black?” I questioned, disappointment dripping from my voice.

“That’s not what I was going to say. But now that you bring it up, yes, he is. He’s a good solid Afro-American man who has been raised to respect women. After Jermaine, he could be just what you need.”

“I’m sure he’s a good man.” I rose from the table slowly, letting the chair scrape across the tiles. “But I’m not interested.” Dumping my mug on the drainer, I walked out of there, not bothering to stop at the sound of my aunt’s voice.

She’d gone too far this time.

Thinking I needed her all up in my business. Jermaine wasn’t just some guy I’d foolishly fallen in love with. He’d been my best friend since forever. We had history; our lives were entwined. He was a good guy but like so many before him, he had been tempted by the easy money running for Diaz’s crew could give him. Opportunity didn’t come knocking in our neighborhood.

Drugs, gangs, and crime did.

I slammed the bedroom door behind me and made my way over to the bed, only to be interrupted by the blare of my cell. Glancing at Shona’s name, I ignored it, dropping onto my bed and clutching a pillow to my chest. Mom was right. Unless I made a clean break, I would never escape my

ties to Fallowfield Heights. But it was my home. Not to mention the fact my mom would never leave there. How was I supposed to just forget them? To turn my back on my roots?

The answer was, I couldn’t.

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