“It means…” He paused, making her hold on to his every word. “I’m bouta pull into the parking lot. This you in the Audi, right?”
He remembered the car being parked in the driveway at Nia’s but wanted to make sure. She could hear his blinker and the faint hum of his engine.
“Yes,” she answered as he whipped his SUV into the lot, backing into a space beside her.
Thankfully, they were facing the street. It was exactly where Heavy wanted to keep his eyes. Cyren barely had enough time to check herself in the mirror. Her pulse quickened and immediately betrayed her. She glanced at his truck, wondering if he was looking her way. His Tahoe sat up much higher than her A7, but she, too, had tint.
Behind her windows, Cyren checked her glossed lips, adjusted her necklace, and stepped out of her car with far more composure than she actually felt. The afternoon cold wind had her rushing around the front of his truck, hurriedly opening the door. She didn’t even have time to realize that he was pushing it open from the inside. She climbed in, immediately hit with the smell of his cologne mixed with leather and the lingering scent of fried food. It smelled entirely too good in there. When she slammed the door shut and glanced his way, he was frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
“Let that be the last time you touch my door handle.”
Cyren blinked before laughter escaped her. “You’re for real?”
“Yeah, I am, and you laughing, but I’m serious. Don’t do that shit again.”
Her bottom lip poked out. “Okay,” she whined, agreeing. “Technically, I didn’t open it.”
Heavy gave her a pointed look, and Cyren slowly lifted her hands with a smile.
“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he told her.
She smiled as she accepted the bag from him, immediately feeling the warmth through the plastic. “Thank you. I’m starving.”
“You welcome.”
He watched her, loving the new look she was rocking. A half-up, half-down hairstyle put her gorgeous cheekbones on even more of a display. Heavy could tell she was makeup-free today, and even finer than she was on Friday. He couldn’t help but smile and let her know.
“You’re pretty as hell, you know that?”
Cyren stopped rubbing the hand sanitizer together and glanced at him. She’d heard it more times than she could count, especially from men. Their expressions of admiration hadn’tseemed to affect her the way Heavy’s had. Complimenting her would be his new hobby.
She smiled, softly. “Mhm. Thank you. How was your day?”
Heavy adjusted in his seat, giving her his full attention. “Cool. Been handling a few business matters.”
Cyren stuck the straw inside her cup and sipped. “You own a business?”
Heavy’s jaw shifted almost imperceptibly. Truthfully, he did. Just not in the way she imagined. Not in a way he could comfortably explain and expect her to understand over spicy wings and fries in her job parking lot.
“Something like that,” he answered, smoothly.
Cyren slowly nodded, not sensing the layers beneath his response. “That’s nice though… not having to answer to anybody.”
“Yeah. It has its moments.”
Cyren pulled out a fry and immediately smiled after tasting it. Seeing her happily dancing in her seat was so satisfying. It gave Heavy a high without having touched any form of drugs.
“They’re good and hot,” Cyren acknowledged.
Heavy laughed. “They better be.”
“Here,” she handed him a few to taste.
Graciously, he popped them in his mouth, and she openly stared while he chewed. Heavy was unintentionally good-looking for no reason. His locs hung loosely today, with no fitted hat hiding his brown eyes that had specs of honey peeking through. Cyren loved his masculine, strong nose, full lips, and well-defined jawline—prominent, unfiltered features of a Black man that made him so damn attractive and a threat to this cruel world. He needed to be protected at all costs.
“Good?” she questioned.
