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Chapter 11
He was wearing gray sweatpants. Gray sweatpants, a gray hoodie, a white tee, and that gold chain. He was leaning against a blue three-door Toyota in the student car park, looking at his phone, the yellow streetlamps making him look like an angel decked in Nike as I approached him. I wanted to turn back immediately. My knees felt like they had been hit from behind by something blunt. I had not prepared for this. I’d washed and moisturized my face, applied barely there makeup—a slick of lip gloss and some mascara, and Aminah had dabbed on my cheekbones a sample of something that promised a dewy Hollywood glow. My braids were pulled into a high bun to accentuate it and I’d slipped on my standard ten-centimeter gold hoops. I looked cute, but I was not primed toattack. Not like him. Aminah had wanted me to wear a black, deep-cut bralette with a leather jacket along with my ripped, high-waisted mom jeans. I had refused—I wasn’t about to be the love interest in a nineties R&B video. A nonsensical super-cropped baby pink sweater that hovered just below my bra and showed my belly piercing had been the compromise. Now, I kind of wished I had worn the bralette. Not because I wanted toseducehim, but because he had clearly come to a sword fight with a gun. Two guns—the hoodie hugged his arms. They certainly hadgirth.And curves and dips to rival my own. They might have even looked better in my jeans.
I cleared my throat as I got closer to the car. Malakai lifted his head at the sound, almost looking startled to see me, his eyes skipping across my form not quite quickly as he straightened and slipped his phone into his pocket.
“Hi.”
I nodded. “Hey.” Immediately balking at how soft and shy I sounded, I kept my face still, slathered sarcasm into my voice to weigh it down, before continuing. “Sorry if I’m underdressed. Prom dress was at the cleaners.”
The smile glinted in Malakai’s eyes, and I felt the potential awkwardness subside as we slipped back into what I now realized was our rhythm.
“Don’t worry about it.” Malakai’s gaze grazed my body again, the friction enough to make heat run from the base of my stomach to my cheeks. “You’re good. Left your corsage at home, anyway.”
I regretted wearing something that showed off my middle. What if the butterflies flew too close to the edge of my stomach, so he could see the imprints of their wings pressed up against my skin?
Malakai smiled widely and pushed himself off the car door to open it for me. He bowed with an exaggerated flourish. “After you, princess.” The south London gait and swagger wrapped itself around his words and lodged his tongue in his cheek.
I slipped in the front seat. “Ew. I’m not aprincess.”
“I know that. You’re both Beauty and the Beast. Just wanted you to know how it feels to be given a title that don’t suit you.” He shot me a tiny, sloping, dangerous smile and shut the door on my parted, wordless mouth.
Malakai maneuvered his way around our nauseatingly picturesque university town with ease, smoothly making his way down hillyavenues lined with gold-leaf molting trees, gently pushing the steering wheel with one hand as we drove past sprawling, gated, suburban houses. The way his other hand wrapped around the gearstick brought to attention just how large it was, emphasizing its sinews. I wasdefinitelychecking him out.
Malakai glanced at me quickly before bringing his gaze back to the road. “You good?”
It was then I realized I hadn’t spoken in about eight minutes. I pulled the sleeves of my sweater down to cover my hands more and folded my arms across my chest. “Um, yeah. I’m fine. Just a little cold.”
Malakai swivelled the temperature dial toward the red arrows, an action that served as a lesson to me about lying because my skin was actually prickling with heat.
I cleared my throat. “So. Where we going? McDonald’s?”
Malakai laughed and his hand wrapped around the gearstick again as he deftly maneuvered, glancing at me before kissing his teeth gently. “What you take me for?”
“You really want to know?”
A shadow flitted across Malakai’s face. He rolled his tongue in his mouth as he pulled into a road I’d never seen before. “Okay, let’s continue to withhold judgment. We’re dating now remember? That’s why I chose food for our first meeting. It’s universal. Best way to get to know someone is over a good meal. And I chose this time—late, with no warning—because I didn’t want to give you time to overthink.”
“How do you know I overthink?”
Another glance as we stopped at a traffic light. “You do a lot of that on your show. And it works most of the time but not for all things. So, I thought I’d give you a break from that. Late night text gives you no time to think. Means you have to go with your gut. You’re either in or out. And you’re here. Which means you’re in.”
My eyes explored the thrilling curves and angles of his profile, but Isaid nothing. This was alarming because I usually had something to say. It was my job to have something to say. Ineededto have something to say. But he was right, there was some freedom, a rush, in deciding to dip out of campus during a weekday night. It was the same rush that came when I’d decided to kiss him.
Malakai’s profile broke and shined light as he released a small half smile. “McDonald’s?Really?”
“Everything else in this town shuts at elevenp.m.unless it’s a club!”
“Maybe in the part of town you know. Also, I would never take a girl out to McDonald’s. Big ballin’, baby, when I’m courtin’ you.”
I curbed the grin that immediately wanted to erupt. “Did you just quote Jay-Z to me?! Don’t do that. Also, you’re not courting me.”
“Big ballin’, baby, when I’m fake courtin’ you.”
A laugh leaped out of me and I brought my sleeve-covered fingers to my mouth in an attempt to push it back in, looking out of the window at the amber-and-dark-green blur of trees and streetlights that enshrouded large red brick houses with black gates—usually with two SUVs parked in the driveway.
“You’re not funny.”
“Too late. I already heard you laugh.”
