I smiled, watching him.
“Don’t take it too far,” I told him gently. “You know you like to drop it over the edge.”
He glanced up at me for half a second… then went right back to playing like I ain’t said nothing.
I shook my head, leaning against the railing.
Marseille stretched out in front of me, calm and pretty in a way I was still getting used to.
Just… peace.
And I let myself have it.
“Yeah, that’s your favorite car I got you, huh?”
My heart jumped.
That voice.
Right behind me.
I turned so fast my breath caught.
Zay.
Standing in my doorway like he never left.
I didn’t think.
I ran to him.
My arms wrapped around him tight, holding on like I needed to make sure he was really there.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” I rushed out. “Why you ain’t call me? Why you just?—”
That’s when I felt it.
The sling under his jacket.
I pulled back immediately.
“What happened to you?”
My hands went straight to him. His chest. His shoulder. Back again, like I could piece it together myself.
“Talk to me…” My voice dropped. “What happened?”
He looked at me as if nothing was wrong.
“I’m good.”
I frowned instantly.
“No, you’re not,” I shot back, still touching him, checking him. “You got a whole sling on, you bruised up—what is this?”
“I’m standing, ain’t I?”
That calm tone that fixed nothing.
