Page 89 of The Sweetest Return

I frowned. “What?”

“You got a woman written all over it.”

“Ain’t nobody done nothing to me.”

She looked at me like she had known me too long to accept bullshit from a grown man.

“You eating?”

“My usual.”

“Burger, everything on it, fries?”

“Yeah.”

“Coffee?”

“No.”

“I’m bringing it.”

“I don’t want coffee.”

“You look tired.”

“I’m trying to sleep tonight.”

“Then you should’ve stayed home.”

She walked away before I could argue.

I was still smiling when my phone buzzed.

Malcolm had sent a picture of Imani and me dancing.

Malcolm: This nigga deep in fucking love

I sent back one word.

Me: Die.

His answer arrived almost immediately.

Malcolm: And miss this? Fuck that.

I locked the screen and put the phone facedown.

Ms. Jean returned with coffee I had specifically declined and pushed it toward me.

“I’m not drinking this.”

“Then let it cool.”

The bell above the door rang.

I looked up.

Imani stepped inside.