Langston snorted. “Say less.”
In the background, I could hear faint bass, shuffling feet, and then a muffled grunt.
“That nigga’s sleeping right now.” He laughed, enjoying this shit. I was starting to think Langston was growing attached to Halo himself. I brushed my hand down my face and pinched the bridge of my nose, slowing my pace down the tunnel toward the team bus. “Don’t let her walk out of that club by herself. Not one step. Get her in the car, get her to her door. I need to know she’s inside before I even think about closing my eyes.”
“Bet. They’re leaving. Stay on the line if you want. Damn her friend bad as fuck.”
“Nigga focus.”
I stayed quiet, just listening. Walking to the bus with the phone pressed to my ear like it could put me in the room with her. Through the speaker, I caught it. Her laugh. Halo’s laugh was so bright, so carefree. It became my favorite melody.
I didn’t say a word. Just listened. And let myself imagine the possibilities. Kids. A wedding. If she wanted it big or small. Over the top or traditional. If she’d ever even want me. It was crazy, maybe, but that’s where my mind went. Because I wasn’t doing all this for no reason. I was doing it to be a piece of joy in her life, even if she didn’t know it yet.
“She’s in,” Langston said finally.
It felt like I’d been holding myself together the whole ride. I was already on the bus, seated in the back away from everyone else, forehead pressed against the window. Halo didn’t even know I was guarding her from a distance. Making sure she got home without another bruise to her pride or her spirit. And I wanted to step out of the shadows so bad it hurt. I wanted totell her straight up that she was mine and there wasn’t a nigga better for her than me.
I had to be patient, and I could be for her.
Istill hadn’t heard from my secret admirer.
And I was pissed.
Not heartbroken. Not wondering what I did wrong. Pissed. Because whoever this was had gotten me invested, had me checking my porch like a fool, had me thinking about possibilities I usually wouldn’t entertain. And then they just disappeared like it was all a game.
Typical male species shit.
I knew better. I knew this whole mystery-admirer thing was more strange than sweet, but I still let myself go there. Still let myself feel noticed for once. It was my own fault.
I couldn’t focus on that right now. Today was about Sametra and Malik, supporting my friends at the grand opening of Pressure Points'. They reminded me that love wasn’t perfect and if you wanted it, you had to go get it. Literally, and then when you get it, you hold on to it. It reminded me of my parents. It reminded me that I hadn’t seen my father in three years. He’d called last week to wish me a happy birthday and sing to me. And it was shit like that that left me frustrated. He was being stubborn, and so was I.
My mind drifted briefly to the way my mind had been playing tricks on me about my future. It was all I seemed to think about, plan for.
Was I lonely?
“Halo, it’s good to see you again,” Sametra’s stepmother said, embracing me.
“Hey, Lorana, it feels like it’s been forever.”
“Fire and Fine stuff has been too busy for us regular folk,” she sang, bumping my hip, making me smile. “ We miss you at Thursday dinner.”
“Okay, Lorana, not you too. And I miss you all too. I’ll do better.”
“It’s true, Halo. You are a beautiful girl with a lovely soul. A little weathered but bright, nonetheless. I don’t know, I felt like you needed to hear that.”
“I did, thank you. You always know when to stand in the gap for me.”
It was true, when Sametra and I became friends, she didn’t hesitate to share Lorana with me. She had also grown up without her mother and knew how it felt. When I moved to Silverrun to escape my father’s shadow, Sametra was the first person I met who made me deeply sigh and relax. She made me feel welcomed and safe. She checked in on me and invited me to dinner with her family. I’d forever love her for that.
“Halo!” Winnie appeared with champagne. “Girl, you look good.”
I stepped back and took myself in. The red dress stopped just above my knee—enough leg to make an impression without trying. My blowout was fresh, gold stacked at my neck and ears, and those slingback heels made my legs look airbrushed even through sheer stockings. I'd been saving this dress for a reason, and tonight was it.
A small Chanel bag rested at my hip. I was feeling good, even if my heart was somewhere else.
The space was beautiful. Malik had really done his thing. There were modern but warm touches everywhere that screamed Black excellence. But it was his making moves that was really the focal point today. Malik had taken a leap and started his own physical therapy practice. And it was my girl on his side. I couldn’t have been happier.
“Thanks, girl. I needed to get a little dolled up.” I took the glass but didn’t drink from it.
