“I know who the fuck that is. I’m saying—”
I kept walking. Let them talk. They’d been talking since the first gift hit the front desk. I never understood being in others’ business. I loved and hated that he was famous.
Walking out, I found DaVinci in the exact same spot, leaning against the wall, cool as air, making it clear I was the only thing he had time for. He straightened when he saw me approaching, eyes dropping to the bag in my hands.
“What’s that?”
“Your gift,” I said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Merry Christmas.”
I shoved the bag at him before I could overthink it. DaVinci took it slowly, eyes barely leaving mine. He pulled out one of the books and ripped the twine until the title was revealed. His entire face changed, something intense flared through his entrancement, and he drew me into his body.
“Halo...” His voice was different, gentle. “You’re mean ass got me a gift?”
I pushed him back playfully and pointed. And he tried to hide the smile on his face.
“Don’t do too much. It’s just books. It’s just a little thank you for the way you’ve thought of me.”
“Nah.” He stepped closer, the bag still in his hands, but one finger lifting my chin. “It’s not just books. It’s you fuckin’ with the kid. I appreciate you seeing a nigga too.”
He trailed off, but I understood. Because I felt it too—that moment when someone sees past the uniform, past the walls, past the person you show the world, and looks at who you really are. And there was something special about having a person to share things with. Things that you didn’t share with anyone else.
He cleared his throat, looked back at the books, then slid the bag down his arm and dug into his coat. “I brought you something else.”
I hesitantly took it, unsure of what it was.
“DaVinci.”
“You gon open it or not?”
I flipped it open, and my vision blurred for a second. My bracelet. My mama’s bracelet.
“I found it at the crib the next day. I know you called asking about it, but I wanted to get it fixed first,” he said quietly. “I had them clean it too.”
The sound that jumped out of me was half laugh, half sob. I launched myself into his arms before I could stop myself, arms wrapping around his neck.
“Thank you,” I said into his hoodie. “I was sick about this. I thought it was gone for good.”
He wrapped me up without a second thought, his scent surrounding me. I fought back a moan. For a second, I let myself stay in his arms. Not because I needed him to hold me up, but because I was where I wanted to be.
“The clasp is solid now,” he said against my hair. “You’re not losing that again if I can help it.”
When I finally stepped back, my eyes dropped to the bracelet again.
“You’re showing off,” I said lightly, trying to keep the emotions from spilling over. I wanted to cry for so many reasons. I was happy I got my bracelet fixed, but I briefly missed my mother and wished I could share this moment with her.
“I’m setting the tone,” he corrected. “And I’m not done. Let me take you to dinner.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip, already knowing I was going to agree. How could I say no?
“I can do dinner,” I said.
His gaze searched my face, checking to see if I was playing. “You serious? You not just tryna get me out of your face?”
“No games,” I said. “I’m saying yes.”
His grin finally broke free, full and unfiltered. “Cool. ‘Cause I’ve been plotting on dinner since the day we met.” His eyes fell to my mouth. “I’m fighting the urge to pick your tiny ass up and get disrespectful with this kiss I owe you. Give me the green light.”
I laughed, shaking my head even as my body leaned in. “Absolutely not. I got an image to uphold. They’re already in there pretending like this is a reality show. I’m not giving them a finale.” I stepped in anyway, lettingthe space between us thin until our bodies almost brushed. “After dinner, though? We’ll talk.”
