I nodded, but curiosity pulled at me, and we both knew silence wouldn’t do us any good.
“So… thisIsischick… she looks to be a handful. Where’d you find her?” I asked, unable to keep the probing tone out of my voice.
Bryce hesitated, his gaze drifting to the ground. “She’s one of my flight attendants,” he revealed.
I scoffed, crossing my arms tightly. “Of course you’d be fuckin’ one of your coworkers. Real professional of you,Captain Frost.” The nickname slipped out without thought, a remnant of our playful banter from the past.
“It ain’t serious.”
“Oh,thatI can see,” I shot back, the grin tugging at my lips despite the seriousness of our conversation. “Still, how long has this lil' situation been going on?” Before he could answer, I jumped to conclusions. “Wait! Were you fuckin’ her when—”
“Hell no!” he interrupted, his voice taking on a deeper, more serious tone. “This shit between us only been going on for a year. And why the hell would you assume that? Chess, you should know me better than that. I would never cheat on you. I messed up in other ways,yeah,but I never stepped out on you. Even if we were still together, I wouldn’t… and damn sure not with her ass.”
He was right. I felt stupid for even thinking that. If Bryce wasn’t FaceTiming me, he was flying, and if he wasn’t doing either, we were together.
“You’re right. Sorry. But what have you told her about me? Because it’s obvious she doesn’t like me.”
“Shid… if I were her, I probably wouldn’t like you either. You beautiful as hell, smarter than her—you’re a threat," he said, his eyes doing that intense thing they did when he was being sincere. “For real, though, all she knows is your name and that you’re my ex. Nothing else.”
I fought a smirk but failed. “So, if you're not feeling her like that, what made you bring her here then?
“On some real shit...” Bryce exhaled, looking out toward the trees, “I don’t know,” he admitted after a pause. “Shit… I guess, I just didn’t wanna be alone this weekend, and she practically begged. I should’ve left her ass at the gas station, though… posted up next to the stale honey buns, expired condoms, and burnt coffee, asking the cashier dumbass questions like, ‘Y’all got oat milk?’”
I chuckled, finding humor in his frustration. “I feel you on that.”
“Referring to yo'man?” he teased.
“My man?!” I retorted, almost offended. “Okay, for starters, Adrian is not my man. Let’s clear thatallthe way up right now.” I chuckled.
“I beg to differ. Him calling youC Babyand shit.”
“Bryce, I swear, Inevertold him about that nickname. Just one day, out the blue, he just said it. Hell, it surprised me too. But when he said it that first time, I told him not to ever call me that again.”
“Did you tell him thereason,though?”
I nibbled on my lip nervously. “No. But me saying it should’ve been enough.”
He nodded, then raised a brow. “I believe you. So if he ain’t yo’ nigga, then what kind of deluxe buddy pass he got that gave him clearance to come up here?”
“He’s the same thing to me as that girl is to you—a time-filler… a comfort seat. He begged to tag along too… probably not as hard as your little Snuggle Muffin plus-one, but he had his moment.”
Bryce cracked a grin. “Snuggle Muffin is wild.”
“I was gon’ say ‘Trial Version Bae’, but figured I’d be nice.”
Bryce shook his head, his jaw flexing with something unspoken.
“How much do you even know about that nigga, though? Like, what he do for a living? Who raised him? He got a criminal record? Food allergies? That nigga carry an EpiPen or nah?”
I laughed, genuinely that time. “Damn, you trying to run his whole life through a background check?”
“Dead ass will,” he replied, his expression serious. “Chess, even though we're not together, I still care about you,” he confessed, not knowing how those words made my heart race. “And I always wanna make sure you’re in good hands... even if they ain’t mine.” Byrce stepped closer, locking eyes with me, the distance between us closing as the air grew thick with tension. "Although, let’s be real… I’m thebesthands you’ve ever had.”
I sighed, gripping the railing like it might save me from launching into bad decisions.
The way he said that… the way he looked at me. If this man flips me over this icy-ass deck railing tonight, I ain’t gon’ fight it;I’d simply whisper a silent prayer asking Jesus to be a blanket then take my chances with frostbite on my ass, hoping the icicles didn’t touch my spine.
Despite the way Bryce said that, I was a bit tempted to respond with, “I ain’t forgot who the best hands were. But even the best can drop something when they stop holding it right.”
