Page 55 of Lily In The Valley
“And who is this?” he asked, licking his perfectly full lips, eyes twinkling, hands rubbing in a scheming motion.
“Chill,” Khalil said, laughing, slipping an arm around my waist, pulling me in. “This my homegirl, Kelly.”
My stomach did a little somersault and fell flat against the linoleum underfoot. He hadn’t had to say it like that.Homegirl Kelly.
The guy chuckled and backed off with a knowing smirk. “My bad, bruh. Ain’t mean no disrespect.”
I rolled my eyes as Khalil led me through the crowd toward the back porch, fully aware of the pissing contest exchanged a few seconds ago. A few card games were already in progress. We slid into a corner, perched on the edge of an old patio sofa. For a second, everything just paused. I watched Khalil. The curve of his smile. The way his chin caught the light. How comfortable he was in his skin. How easily he fit into every room.
“You really do this, huh?” I asked.
“What?”
“Charm people for sport.”
He took a sip from his cup. “Only person I’m worried about charming is you.”
Too dangerous.
Still, I laughed. Leaned in a little. Let myself enjoy the attention. It wasn’t long before a slow song started Miguel’sSureThingand suddenly the whole room started vibing. Somebody’s cousin pulled me into a two-step. I danced with him for a bit, laughing, letting my body grind into his. I could feel Khalil’s eyes on me the whole time.
When I circled back to our spot, a group of girls had migrated his way. One was standing way too close, laughing a little too hard at something he said. Her hand brushed his chest lightly.
I didn’t say a word. I sat on the arm of the couch, crossed my legs, and scrolled through my phone like I couldn’t care less. But my chest was tight. He wasn’t doing anythingwrong. But he wasn’t doing anythingrighteither.
This wasn’t new. This was always the thing with Khalil–the magnetism, the easy way people wanted him. It didn’t matter if we had history. It didn’t matter if we’d shared beds, stories, or secrets. There were always going to be other women drawn to his orbit. And he didn’t push them away fast enough. Eventually, the girl walked off, and Khalil looked up at me.
“You good?”
“Of course.”
“You sure?”
I smiled, sweet as sorghum. “Enjoy your little fan club. I’m gonna go enjoy the night.”
I was still perched on the edge of the patio sofa when the same guy from earlier, pretty chocolate skin and trouble in his smile, made his way back over. He grinned like he already knew the answer to the question he hadn’t asked yet.
“You sure you wanna be wasting that pretty smile sitting over here bored?” he asked, as if we’d been in the middle of a conversation all night.
I raised an eyebrow, amused. “And you sure you wanna risk your life by talking to me in front of Khalil?”
He glanced over his shoulder, unfazed. Khalil was leaned back now, legs spread, a cup in one hand, deep in conversationwith two girls in tight dresses who were giggling like they didn’t care he hadn’t laughed once.
“Your boy don’t look too bothered,” he said, turning back to me.
I shrugged off my annoyance. “That’s his problem.”
The guy smiled like he liked my answer and offered his hand. “Come on. We playing spades inside. You any good?”
“Baby,” I said, slipping my phone into my back pocket. “I was raised on spades.”
He guided me inside with a hand on my lower back, my hips swinging a little more than necessary. I didn’t even look back to see if Khalil noticed. I didn’t have to. He was always watching. That was the game. A constant push and pull. An invisible measuring stick of who cared more. A love song stuck on repeat, never quite reaching the chorus.
Inside, the house was warm and loud. Bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder. I slid into the chair opposite the guy, who’d let me know his name was Maverick. The table was talkative, trash talk flying like confetti. After two books and a clean cut, Maverick leaned across the table and grinned.
“Okay, I see you,” he said.
I smirked, flicking a card onto the table. “Told you so.”
