Page 25 of Free to Fall

Egypt finally broke eye contact, reachin’ for a drink. “I don’t like ball players.”

I smirked. “I don’t play ball.”

“What do you do then?”

“I fight.”

She blinked. “Like… with gloves?”

“Yup.”

She looked me over like she was doin’ inventory. “Hmph. That tracks.”

“What does?”

“You give off very ‘punch first, apologize never’ energy.”

“And you give off ‘cut a man’s tires and dare him to call the cops’ energy.”

“I plead the fifth,” she said, takin’ a sip of her drink.

We were both smilin’ now. But we didn’t say anything else, just locked eyes for a second too long, both pretendin’ it didn’t mean anything. That was the start. That was the moment. We spent the rest of the night avoidin’ each other—but our eyes kept findin’ their way back across the room.

Now I was layin’ in her bed, starin’ at the ceiling like none of this made sense… but all of it felt inevitable. From the moment she opened her mouth and called me out in front of everybody, I’d been hooked. I ain’t know how to say it back then. Hell, I barely knew how to say it now. But I loved her. And I was starting to think… maybe I always had.

I gently shifted from under her, careful not to wake her, and leaned over to pull a blanket across her waist. She didn’t stir. I sat back, elbows on my knees, just lookin’ at her. How the hell did we go from two people who couldn’t be in the same room without throwing shade… to this? To me wanting to stay. To her letting me.

I still hadn’t said it out loud. Not to her. But in my head, it was already real. I was in love with Egypt Armstrong. And even though she hadn’t said it either… I could feel it in the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t watchin’. In the way she clung to me like I was the only thing keepin’ her grounded and in the way she hadn’t made me leave. I was gon’ give her time and space. Whatever she needed. But one way or another, this thing between us, it wasn’t goin’ nowhere.

Brodie and Arielle’shouse always felt like a fuckin’ resort. Marble floors, tall-ass ceilings, ambient lighting, and a wine fridge bigger than my first apartment. No kids tonight, just the grown-ups. That meant open bar, loud-ass opinions, and at least three shady side conversations floatin’ around the room.

We were all gathered around their long-ass wood table—Brodie and Arielle sittin’ at each end like Black royalty, Serenity beside Creed, Averi across from Royal, and Egypt… directly across from me. Of course.

She looked smug and spicy, sittin’ with her chin in her hand, legs crossed, lip gloss poppin’ like she wasn’t the same woman I had pressed up against her own damn kitchen counter three nights ago. Every time she laughed at somethin’ Royal said or reached across the table to clink glasses with Averi, I felt my molars grindin’.

I tried to focus on my plate—grilled chicken, roasted carrots, some kinda mashed sweet potato magic Ari had whipped up—but my eyes kept draggin’ back to her. Like they had a fuckin’ mind of their own. Then, right on cue…

“So, Egypt…” Serenity started, eyes all soft and curious like she wasn’t ‘bout to stir the pot, “How was your date the other night? You left us hangin’.”

Averi didn’t miss a beat. “She said it was terrible.”

The whole table turned to her. Egypt blinked, sat back with her wine glass like she’d been ambushed. “Oh my God,” she muttered. “Can y’all not?” I smirked, leanin’ back in my chair, ready for the show.

“Well now I need details,” Arielle said, grinning. “We need to know what type of man gets a second date with you—and apparently, who doesn’t.”

Egypt rolled her eyes. “He was boring. All he talked about was stocks, steak, and his ex-girlfriend’s gluten allergy. Like, sir… read the room. I ordered pasta and I don’t care about your trauma.” The table cracked up. Even Brodie, usually quiet with his plate, was chuckling.

I lifted my glass, eyes on her. “Maybe he thought your personality was the real allergy.”

Egypt’s head turned slow, like a damn villain in a movie. “And maybe your hairline's been in a custody battle with your edges since high school.”

“Speakin’ of edges, yours been lookin real stressed lately. Don’t you ever comb your fuckin’ hair?”

“Do you ever wear anything besides fuck boi clothes? You look like you been hustling on the corner for months and still can’t make yo drug quota.” she shot back without hesitation.

“Oop!” Serenity laughed into her drink. “Here we go.”

Royal damn near spit out his cognac.

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