“Nah,” Chesteria corrected. “We’re in my house, so we’re by my rules. Any emotional outbursts, you draw two and journal about it later.”
Isis groaned as she drew another card. “This game is toxic… just like men! “No way this is legal! Bryce shuffled like he had a vendetta!”
I tried not to laugh, watching her spiral as she was now three cards away from building an entirely new deck. Meanwhile, I was down to two cards, my chest puffing up like I’d just hit a buzzer-beating shot in the championship game.
I leaned back, ready to claim my victory. “Game point, folks.”
“Slow your roll,ego,” Chesteria said sweetly.
With a graceful flick of her wrist, she laid down a Reverse card, followed by a Skip, and then placed her last card on top of the pile.
“Uno out,” Chesteria announced with a stretch, like she’d just finished a satisfying workout. “Told y’all… I’m the undisputed Queen of Uno.”
I fist-bumped her in celebration. “And I’m the Spades king. Together, we reign supreme over this game night.”
Isis, with a playful roll of her eyes, poured another glass of wine, then tossed her cards onto the table in a dramatic flourish. “Well, I’m the queen of keeping my nails flawless. Y’all can have these dusty cards; I’ve got my manicure to maintain.”
Beside her, Adrian slumped in defeat. “And I’m the king of getting played," he groaned, a hint of humor breaking through his defeated tone.
“Congrats. You finally know your title," Chesteria joked.
Chapter twenty-nine
Chesteria
“Brian McKnight in a Hoodie?”: The Night Adrian Sang, We Danced, and the Power Came Back On”.
We were still cracking up from that chaotic Uno match when Adrian leaned back and casually said, “I should play something. I mean, I do sing a lil’ bit… can play the piano, too.”
I shot my eyes at him. “Adrian, please don’t get kicked out of this damn cabin for lying… again.”
“Man, what I look like admitting to that if I couldn’t do it?”
I scoffed. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ll be admitting to doing something that you really didn’t know how to do,” I had to remind him.
He sucked his teeth. “That was different.”
Isis eyed him dubiously. “So you can sing? Like...singsing, or hum real hard in the shower, and you call it talent?”
Adrian smirked like he’d been waiting for that challenge. “Nah. I cansing sing.” He pushed himself up from the couch,chuckling. “Always gotta prove something to Black folks.” Then he strolled toward the upright piano nestled near the window that we boughtstrictlyfor decoration. No one had ever used it. I was halfway convinced it wasn’t even tuned.
Isis followed him like she was judging an audition episode ofThe Voice, clutching her wine and side-eyeing every step he took.
“Wait… are you being serious right now?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer.
Adrian pulled out the bench and sat, cracking his knuckles like a man about to break generational curses. “Deadass. Watch me work.”
He adjusted his posture, pressed a few tentative keys, and just like that, the room went silent. The laughter and playful roasting died like somebody hit mute on life. Then he began playing and singing “The Only One For Me by Brian McKnight. The first note had my mouth drop open like someone snatched the air out of the room.
Isis looked stunned, too. Her mouth was slightly parted as she leaned on the piano, like she was trying to steady herself for a good time.
With my wine glass midair, I slowly turned to Bryce with wide eyes. “Wait a damn minute. Is thatBrian McKnightin his body right now?!”
Byrce hunched his shoulders. “That might just be his spirit renting space in that man’s chest.”
Adrian’s voice was buttery, soulful, andclean. He didn’t miss a note. Every run and every pause was flawless. His fingers glided across the keys like he was born doing it.
Bryce stood, extended a hand toward me, and tilted his head as if he was daring me not to take it.
