Page 55 of Can't Get Enough

“He sent me some support groups. You remember that night he mentioned his grandfather had Alzheimer’s, right?”

“I remember.” Compassion softens her expression for a second before she goes on. “And now he’s inviting you up to his luxury box like you’ve been besties for years?”

“It’s not like that.” I sneak a glance at Maverick with his father. They’re both kind of yelling at the glass now that the game is underwayand not going favorably for the Vipers, judging by their reactions. “He’s just been nice.”

“There’s something happening under the surface,” Chapel says. “At least it feels that way. The two of you talked like I wasn’t there.”

“That’s bad manners,” I joke. “Not… not anything else.”

“For the sake of the show, it can’t be anything else, Hen. It’d be hella awkward if you start something with the man our producing partner is actually still in love with.”

“It would be, which is why I’m not starting anything.” I pause. “Not that I want to start anything.”

“Just be careful, okay? Don’t cross any lines with him.”

“I won’t.” I rush the words out. I really want to drop this, especially with Maverick in the room.

“Okay,” Chapel says, glancing down at her phone and sounding a little distracted. “Oh, wow! You remember Kyra?”

“Is that the model who was dismissed in the semifinal round onLewks?”

“Yup.” Chapel slides her phone into the pocket of her miniskirt. “That rapper she’s dating, Big Jeezy, has a box. She saw us on the jumbotron and wants me to swing by to say hi. You wanna roll?”

Maverick approaches, and I return his smile.

“It would be rude for me to leave now,” I tell her. “Especially with Skipper still MIA.”

“That girl is MIF. Missing in Fucking, but aight.” Chapel sets her empty glass down on the bar. “I’m gonna go holla at Kyra, but I’ll be right back.”

Maverick arrives at my side as Chapel leaves.

“Other plans?” he asks, nodding to the door closing behind Chapel.

“One of her friends has a box, too, so she’s just popping in to say hi.”

“Got it.” He turns his back to the bar and leans his elbows on the surface, a stout glass held in one hand. “So we talked with Hue this week.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” The tension that built inside of me as soon as heapproached loosens at the prospect of discussing one of Aspire’s founders. “To say they’re excited about you getting involved is an understatement.”

“We’re excited, too. I’m always looking for investments, but especially since I sold the True Playahs app.”

“That was a huge risk, yeah? Selling what was kind of the cornerstone of your business.” I toast him with my French 75. “Cheers to that kind of confidence.”

He grins and shrugs. “In this game you have to be, especially as a Black man moving in these circles. I ain’t waiting for nobody to tell me I’m the shit. You better know it going in.”

“Oh, I get that. We gotta build ourselves up. And well, I have my girls. My friends always got my back and remind me who the hell I am if I forget.”

“I like you, Hendrix.” He says it without a smile, in a way that sounds earnest and real and not like he’s saying something to fill the space. He doesn’t take it back or explain it away, but forges on. “The kind of confidence that you exude is magnetic. You know that?”

I stare at him, my lips wrestling in the battle between a smile and a scowl. He shouldn’t be saying this shit to me, even though it’s presented as if it’s perfectly harmless. I know better. I know those are the kinds of words that cling to the inside of your mind and play on repeat when you’re drifting off to sleep.

He takes another draw from his drink, watching me over the rim of the glass. He seems completely comfortable with the silence that builds and tightens like air being blown into a tiny balloon. He’s unafraid of the pop, but my muscles tense with the threat of it; the destruction. I need to distract myself. Now.

“I wanted to ask about one of your ‘risky’ investments,” I say, forcing myself to meet his gaze again. “You mentioned that you’ve invested in cannabis before.”

“Still do.” He straightens and sets the glass on the bar, an alertness replacing the languor from before. “What’s up?”

“Nelly and Kashawn approached me with something they termed ‘out of the box.’ Something we’ve never done before, but they want us to consider. Or at least one company they want us to consider, but it’s a vice industry.”

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