Page 38 of Love's Free Will

She shrugged, pretending like she wasn’t proud of herself. “He did most of it.”

Logan laughed. “That’s a lie.” Averi finally looked at me then—our eyes locking for half a second too long. I watched her lips part, watched her inhale slightly like she was about to say something, but then Logan clapped his hands. “A’ight, let’s finish this shit. I gotta go home to my wife.”

11

AVERI

The drive back to my condo was mostly quiet. Not uncomfortable quiet, but that kind of silence when you’re both thinking about the same thing and neither one of you wants to be the first to bring it up.

Royal had been in a surprisingly good mood after our meeting with Logan—probably because Logan loved the music we’d been working on. And also, because Logan agreed with me that Westlake Ave would be Royal’s first single from the new album. It was my favorite, because he fought me so hard on changing it and I won.

Still, I could still feel the weight of our unspoken conversation between us. So, instead of addressing it head-on, I pulled into Foo Chow-one of my favorite Chinese spots close to my house, ordered us some food, and headed home.

Walking into my downtown LA condo felt like a breath of fresh air. I had missed this place—missed the city, my space, my bed, my routine. Royal followed me inside, looking around like he was taking mental notes.

“Damn Ave,” he muttered, nodding in approval. “I was expectin’ this shit to be all bougie and uptight.”

I rolled my eyes, setting the bags of food on the kitchen island. “And what does that mean?”

He smirked, walking past me to collapse onto my couch like he owned the place. “I don’t know. You just give ‘spoiled rich girl’ sometimes.”

I scoffed pointing to the door. “Nigga, get out.”

He laughed, kicking his feet up on my ottoman like he was settling in for the night. I shook my head, trying not to smile as I grabbed two plates and set them on the counter. Despite my nerves, he fit too well into my space. Like he belonged there, and I honestly didn’t mind it.

We ate in my living room, sitting across from each other on the sectional, the TV playing low in the background. It wasn’t until I finished my food that I finally found the nerve to say what I needed to say.

“Royal,” I started carefully.

He lifted a brow, his fork hovering over his plate. “What’s up mama?”

I swallowed, then sighed. “I don’t know how to act around you anymore.”

His eyes locked onto mine, his expression unreadable. “What you mean?”

I fidgeted with the hem of my hoodie. “I mean… after what happened between us, I just—” I exhaled. “I was afraid of what I was feeling. And I didn’t know what to do with that. So, I ran.” He sat back, nodding slowly, processing. I bit my lip. “That’s why I left for Toronto. I needed a break from you.”

Something flashed across his face—maybe frustration, maybe understanding. Maybe both. I braced myself for him to be mad, but instead, he smirked. “So, you ran away cause you like me?”

I gave him a flat look. “You’re so fuckin’ annoying.”

He chuckled, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Nah, I get it,” he admitted. “Shit… I wasn’t expectin’ to feel this way either.” My breath hitched slightly. He liked me too. I didn’t know why that shocked me—I guess I thought I had been alone in this. Royal ran a hand down his face. “Ain’t gon’ lie, you got me fucked up, Ave.”

“I do?” I let out a small laugh batting my eyes, but he was serious.

“I like you. More than I should.” He exhaled heavily. “But I ain’t tryna rush nothin’. I just… like being around you.”

My stomach fluttered. That was all I needed to hear. “Me too,” I murmured.

We locked eyes for a moment, the energy between us shifting again. This wasn’t just sex. This was something more. And for now… we were both okay with just seeing where it went.

Serenity and Creed’sbackyard BBQ was exactly what I needed. It wasn’t just about the food—it was the company, the love, the ease that came with being surrounded by my people. And tonight, Royal was one of them.

I won’t lie; I was a little nervous bringing him here. This was my real family—not the one I was born into, but the one I chose. I didn’t know if Royal would fit in. If he’d even want to. But to my surprise, he did. Effortlessly.

He played with my nieces and nephews allowing them to jump on him, listened to Gio rap to his songs and raced Bryce and Braden around the backyard purposely letting them win.

He was already chopping it up with Brodie, Creed, and Nasseem, his usual cocky smirk in place.

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