Page 180 of The Sweetest Return

“That’s what worries me.”

We drove toward Oakland with the car filling whatever quiet we did not need to rush. Imani's perfume, the rumble beneath us, her legs angled toward me as if her body remembered this passenger seat before her pride decided whether it wanted to admit the same.

“You remember the first time you rode in this?” I asked.

“You mean when you drove like you had a signing bonus and no survival instincts?”

“I drove fine.”

“You drove like the Lord owed you favors.”

I laughed. “You still got in.”

“I was young.”

“You smiled then too.”

She looked at me.

Something old and warm passed between us before she reached across the console and slid her fingers through mine.

I held on.

When I turned through the private entrance near Phipps Conservatory, she sat straighter.

“At night?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you rent Phipps?”

“Not all of it.”

“Andre.”

“I reserved enough.”

She stared at me.

“You like flowers.”

“I do.”

“My family owns a landscaping company.”

“I know.”

“So this is basically cultural.”

Her laugh filled the car. “You are ridiculous.”

“But thoughtful.”

“Unexpectedly.”

“I’m choosing to hear the compliment.”

“That is very on brand for you.”