The couch dipped under us a second later, but he didn’t put me beside him. He kept me close, settling back while I ended up stretched over his chest, skin still warm, breathing uneven as I tried to come back down.
I let out a slow sigh, eyes drifting closed, my head resting right over his heartbeat.
His arm wrapped around my waist, while his other hand moved up my back in slow strokes, fingers slipping gently into my hair.
“You good?” he asked.
His voice vibrated softly beneath my cheek.
I nodded against him, barely lifting my head. “Mmhmm. Better than good.”
His arm tightened just a little, like that answer mattered more than he’d ever admit.
And he didn’t move after that.
It tookus a while to climb off of each other, but we finally managed to get ourselves together and head over to Ol’s School’s.
Ocean had told me plenty about him and everything he’d gone through.
I wasn’t nervous exactly, but I didn’t want to make a bad impression either.
“Are you sure he knows I’m coming with you?” I asked, glancing out the window as we pulled into a quiet street lined with old brick houses.
“Yes, he does,” Ocean said. “Relax, Ol’ School loves meeting beautiful women, and he doesn’t bite. Well, unless you disrespect him, then it’s a wrap.”
I laughed. “I’ll try to stay on his good side then.”
We parked, and as soon as we stepped out, the puppy I’d picked raced toward us, tail wagging like we’d never been apart.
“Hey, hey,” I said, crouching down. “What’s up, little guy?”
He sniffed me, then licked my ankle.
Ol’ School came to the porch, wearing a navy sweatsuit and a grin. “Took you long enough to get here. I could’ve taken three naps by now.”
Ocean smiled, walking up to him. “My bad, old man. I had some business to handle.”
Ol’ School’s eyes flicked to me, a cool smirk resting on his face. “I bet you did. Anyway, who’s this beautiful young lady?”
Before Ocean could say anything, I stepped forward, smiling. “I’m Skye.”
“Skye,” he repeated with a nod, shaking my hand. “Pretty name. So, you’re this so-calledfriend, he’s been?—”
I cut in quick, not wanting him to elaborate a second further. “Yep. That’s me. Just his friend.”
“Mmhmm.” The look Ol’ School gave us said he wasn’t buying it, but he didn’t push.
He led us inside, where the place smelled like coffee, dog treats, and some old-school cologne.
I sat on the couch.
“So, Skye,” Ol’ School said, settling into his recliner. “What do you do for a living?”
I grinned. “I dance. Professionally.”
“Oh yeah?” His eyes lit up. “You one of them fancy ballet girls?”
“Not quite,” I said, laughing. “I do music videos, tours, and live shows for hip-hop and R&B artists. I’ve been dancing since I was little.”
