Page 38

Chapter 9

By the time I got back to my apartment, Malachi had completely fucked up my mood. Not in a bad way either. That was the problem. I dropped my purse onto the kitchen counter and stared through the floor-to-ceiling windows at Westhaven, like the city could tell me what the hell I was supposed to do with a thirty-nine-year-old man casually asking me to move into his house while talking about marriage and children before I'd even finished breakfast.

Especially children. My hand almost drifted toward my stomach before I caught myself. Three positive pregnancy tests were hidden at the bottom of my makeup bag, and I'd known for three days. Three long-ass days. The first test was because my period was late. The second was because I'd convinced myself the first one was defective. By the third, even I had run out of excuses. I was pregnant. By Malachi.

That morning, while he'd sat across from me asking whether I wanted children one day, I'd looked that man dead in his face knowing one day might already be growing inside me. I hadn't told him. Hadn't told Jru either. I hadn't told a soul, and it wasn't because I thought he'd run. Malachi had made it clear where his head was without knowing a damn thing about the baby. I just needed a minute to wrap my own mind around it.

I liked him. A lot more than I'd allowed myself to admit. The problem with liking somebody enough to picture a future was trusting them enough to possibly fuck that future up. I'd been down that road before. Men had disappointed me enough to teach me how fast sweet words could turn into bullshit, so I'd learned to keep things light. Have fun. Let a man spoil me if he wanted to, but never put myself in a position where his feelings determined whether I could survive.

People saw the clothes, trips, purses, and lifestyle and assumed I was some dumb bitch waiting around for a man to fund my next shopping spree. Let them. While they were busy judging, I'd been stacking my money. Every gift didn't have to turn into another purchase. Some of it could turn into something that belonged to me.

“Why you standing there looking like somebody just told you Santa Claus ain't real?”

I turned to find Jru coming down the hallway, her glasses low on her nose, phone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. She studied my face before lowering her phone. “What happened?”

“Malachi asked me to move in.” I crossed to the couch and dropped onto it, pulling a throw pillow into my lap. “And before you start grinning, he started talking about marriage, kids, five-year plans, ten-year plans. That nigga damn near interviewed me over breakfast.”

Jru sat across from me, her mouth curving anyway. “So basically, you're panicking because that man actually likes your loud ass.”

“Fuck you.” I laughed despite myself, letting her clown me for a minute. I needed it. If I sat there thinking too hard about the life Malachi was offering, my mind would circle right back to the secret sitting at the bottom of my makeup bag. So I changed the subject before she could notice how distracted I really was.

“Oh, since we sharing shit this morning, your boyfriend didn't want you working at Vice.”

Jru stopped mid-sip, slowly lowering her water. “My who?”

“That old nigga with the pretty eyes.” I stretched my legs across the couch, enjoying the way her expression tightened.

“Ashlynn.”

“I didn't say his name.” I laughed before telling her what Malachi had admitted. Ezra had told him not to hire her, but Malachi had done it anyway because she was qualified and Vice needed somebody who could handle the floor and bar. When I got to the reason Ezra supposedly didn't want her there, Jru sat forward.

“Malachi said that?” she asked, looking at me like I was making shit up.

“Word for word? No. But yes, bitch. That man wants you.” She looked away a little too quickly, and I narrowed my eyes. “Hold up. What happened last night?”

“Nothing happened,” she answered, suddenly very interested in the cap on her water bottle.

“Jru.” I leaned forward, waiting. She sighed, twisting the cap back and forth before finally telling me Ezra had called her into his office after closing. He'd shut the door when she tried to leave, stepped close enough for her to smell his cologne, remembered the perfume she'd worn the first night they met, and touched her chin while asking whether they had a problem.

I stared at her the entire time. By the time she finished, my cheeks hurt from smiling. Jru pointed at me before I could get a word out. “Don't.”

“Oh, I'm doing it.” I sat up straighter. “Did you move when he got in your space?”

Her lips pressed together. That was all the answer I needed. I leaned back against the couch, nodding slowly. “Bitch, you want him.”

“I barely know that man,” she argued, rolling her eyes.

“That wasn't what I said.” A little smile fought its way onto her face, and I let her off the hook. For now. Whatever was going on between them, she'd tell me when she was ready. Besides, I had something else I wanted her to see.

“Come look at something with me,” I said, getting up to find my purse.

Jru checked the time. “I gotta go to Vice later and do inventory. I'm not riding around with you all damn day while you shop.”

“Who said anything about shopping?” I asked, offended on principle.

She gave me a look that said I did, every other day. I rolled my eyes and headed for the door. “Girl, bring your ass on.”

An hour later, we pulled into a commercial strip about fifteen minutes from downtown Westhaven. Jru looked through the windshield at the vacant storefront before turning toward me, confused. I only smiled and got out. She followed me inside, her heels clicking against the concrete floor as she took in the plain white walls, exposed plumbing along the back, and wide front windows that flooded the empty room with sunlight.