Page 121 of Tainted

“No offense, but they’re worried about Keyes, not you. He’s been all business and less fun since you showed up. Let them tell it.”

“What kind of fun?” I asked.

Rajah paused, staring at the ground, then sighed, “Because I like you, Freshie, I’mma keep it a buck. Syd and Keyes like to have fun and aren’t opposed to paying for it, but I haven’t heard shit since y’all started messing around.”

“Which one? Phoenix or Diamond? Hell, was it both?” I rambled at Rajah before throwing the rest of my stuff in my bag.

“Phoenix,” she replied, and I slammed my locker shut, irritated. “Look, I get your feelings are hurt, and yeah, he should’ve said something, but if you’re upset about every bitch Keyes fucked you’re gonna be mad for a long time.”

Rajah had been blunt since I met her. I had never been on the receiving end, and it didn’t feel good.

“Bye, Rajah.”

“Damn, what I did do?” She exclaimed, throwing her arms up.

Rajah sucked her teeth, watching me head for the door. “So I guess that means I need to call my cousin, huh?”

I didn’t reply, rushing out of the back door to my car. I slid inside, feeling like I could breathe, until my phone rang.

“What?” I snapped.

“You must have me confused with some other nigga answering the phone like that,” Kenyon quipped, his tone light.

“What do you want, Kenyon?”

“I’m picking up food. What are you in the mood for?” he asked because, for him, it was a regular day while I was harboring feelings I didn’t know what to do with.

“Nothing. I’m going home tonight.”

He paused for a beat, and I almost heard him shake his head. “So what do you want to eat?” he reiterated because his house was home.

That got to me just a little. He’d said it before, but with everything swirling in my head, it hit differently.

“I’m not hungry,” I muttered.

“See you soon, Zara Nicole.” His voice softened at the end, leaving no room for argument before he hung up.

I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, exhaling a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. For all my attitude, I knew I’d end up at his place. Because as much as I hated to admit it, Kenyon’s home was starting to feel like mine, too.

His car beat mine to the driveway, and I climbed out, ready for a shower and maybe even a drink. I needed something to help sort through my emotions. Usually, walking in Kenyon’s house calmed me, but it was the opposite tonight.

“It’s freezing in here,” I complained, marching up the stairs.

“That’s what blankets are for.”

“Or you could just move to Antarctica instead of turning the thermostat,” I leaned in to read the exact number. “To Sixty-eight!”

“The longer you stand here complaining, the colder you’ll be,” he chuckled, nudging me toward his bedroom.

I dropped my bag at the door and plopped on the edge of the bed, wondering if there was some truth to all of it. I wasn’t blind to the fact that there were many sides to Kenyon. He could be as sweet as a summer rain or treacherous as a thunderstorm. Romantic but guarded. It wasn’t impossible that he was both Prince Charming and a devil in disguise.

“You might have to come up off that apartment,” Kenyon announced, stealing my attention.

“Why?”

Kenyon ignored it and chuckled as if the question answered itself. “You’re never there, Babygirl. You’re holding up a unit and not paying rent.”

“Then maybe I need to stay home more often,” I snapped.

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