Page 6 of I Think They Love You

No sleepovers. No repeats. Absolutely no meeting his family.

Exhibit A: the hipster white guy Denz traded mutual blow jobs with in an upstairs VIP bathroom during the NYE party. Denz can’t remember his name, but he was taller than Denz’s five foot nine. Oh, anddimples. He might’ve worked in talent relations? Sound and lighting?

Either way, it was work-related head.

When Dimples started asking too many personal questions afterward, Denz politely kissed his cheek and slipped back downstairs. He never gives anyone the opportunity to decide whether therealDenz is worth sticking around for. Not since college.

But Kami deserves a second chance at love. To ignore what the other Carters think.

“You know—” Denz starts.

Kami’s murderous glare stops him. He doesn’t turn twenty-six until July. He wants to live long enough to see what this whole quarter-life crisis thing is about.

The elevator doors open on the sixth floor, revealing the bright, open space occupied by 24 Carter Gold. It’s equal parts professional and inviting. Behind the front desk, against a lilac wall, individual vanity bulbs spell outCARTER. White concrete floors contrast with the gold-and-orchid furniture. Beyond the lobby are glass-walled offices with framed partitions. Farther down, the expansive conference room sits opposite Kenneth’s office.

The staff happily buzzes around. It’s as if Denz is the only one fighting a lingering hangover.

He yawns again. “God, I could go for a latte. And a muffin.”

“When are they arriving?” Kami asks.

“When iswhatarriving?”

“The muffins.”

He blinks at her.

“Denzel Kevin Carter,” she hisses, “please tell me you didn’t forget to order pastries for the staff meeting. It’syourMonday.”

He throws his hands over his face, groaning. Fuck his life. Another failed reminder.

“It’s fine,” Kami says in that voice she uses when things are decidedlynot fine,but she has a plan. She waves at Jordan, their cousin and her assistant. “Crema isn’t far. Order online. An intern can pick them up.”

“I’m not letting an intern fix my mistake,” Denz grunts. Besides, he can’t afford for anyone to forget his dad’s favorite chocolate-chip muffins. He’ll never hear the end of it. “I’ll pick them up.”

“The meeting is in thirty minutes.”

“I’ll drive fast.” He opens the coffee shop’s mobile app. “Stall for me?”

“How?”

“Show off Mikah’s school pictures again?” Denz jams the elevator’s Down button. “You did theater. Do a monologue fromRomeo and Juliet. Ooh! Tell Dad about Sur—”

Kami clears her throat as Jordan approaches.

Denz pastes on an innocent smile. “You’ll figure something out.”

The elevator doors close on her shouting, “Hurry back! And stay out of trouble!”

He grins smugly. It’s just muffins. How difficult could that be?

Crema of the Crop is one of Denz’s favorite places in the city. Exposed brick walls. Ebony-stained hardwood floors. Pendant lighting shining on the abstract art mounted on the walls as soft, chill music plays overheard. Air spiced with espresso and freshly ground coffee and sugary pastries.

Six customers are between Denz and the front register. The late-morning rush has arrived. He decides to kill time by checking his socials.

His account, @notthatdenzel, started off as a hobby. A much-needed distraction from the unexpected broken heart that came with his BA in communications. Subconsciously, Denz always knew he’d end up at 24 Carter Gold. That didn’t stop him from working hard to prove his position wasearnedand not solely nepotism. But social media was his fun weekend activity… until it wasn’t.

He didn’t anticipate the influx of followers. Sponsorships. Paid advertising gigs. Something he could make a small profit from. He’d just wanted out of his own head.

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