Page 47 of The Sweetest Return

Fair.

Her gaze shifted past my shoulder, and something in her expression changed.

I didn’t need to turn all the way to know Malcolm and Tee were back there. I felt them watching, especially Malcolm, because he had never minded having front-row seats to somebody else’s consequences.

Camille noticed me noticing and lifted one brow.

“Excuse me,” she said.

Imani’s eyes narrowed. “Where are you going?”

“To speak to someone who is not either of you.”

“Convenient.”

“Very.” Camille smiled into her glass. “Behave, children.”

Then she walked off toward Malcolm and Tee like she had not just abandoned her friend on purpose.

Imani watched her go.

So did I.

Camille said something when she reached them, and Malcolm’s grin shifted in a way that made the history there harder to ignore. Tee looked between them, shook his head, and took a drink like he had decided the safest place to be was outside whatever mess was about to form.

Imani’s gaze came back to mine at the same time mine came back to hers.

We both saw it. Neither of us said a damn thing.

Some things did not need our help to become a problem.

For a second, we just stood there with Camille gone and the room moving around us.

I should have said something easy, but I didn’t.

She was here.

A waiter passed with a tray, and Imani reached for one of those tiny, fussy bites people served when they wanted to pretend an event had food.

Her arm lifted.

The silk shifted.

And the seam that had been covering the edge of her tattoo moved just enough for black ink to show near the place over her heart.

My breath stopped.

The bite paused halfway to her mouth.

Her lashes lowered, following my stare, and when she looked back at me, the question was already in her eyes.

“What is it?”

I moved closer.

No smooth excuse. No polite step to make room for the waiter. Just me closing the space because my body got there before my sense did.

Her chin tilted up.