Page 135 of Heavy Is The Crown

Krys’ lips parted slightly, her chest rising with her breath.

She didn’t have any words. That was all he needed.

Their second kiss; slow at first, like testing the weight of something fragile. Trying to see if this was real or just another dangerous idea. But the second her fingers curled into the front of his shirt it changed.

The kiss deepened. Like it had always been waiting for this.

Krys tilted her chin, her lips parting beneath his, her body reacting before her mind could tell her not to.

Kenyatta’s grip tightened, one hand sliding up to the back of her neck, the other firm at her waist, anchoring her to him.

This was real now, and they both felt it.

Just a few feet away, Musa lifted his massive head, his ears twitched and his tail gave a slow, assessing flick. He sighed. Still watching but no longer on edge. If Krys was letting it happen then it was okay.

For now.

The moment lingered, stretched, thick with tension and temptation until finally Krys pulled back, breathing unsteady.

Her lips were kiss-bitten, glossy, her pupils dilated.

Kenyatta didn’t let her go. But she took a slow step back, putting space where there hadn’t been any.

A breath. A pause. A moment to figure out what the hell they just did.

Krys cleared her throat, running a hand over her hair. “Well...”

Kenyatta licked his lips, his thumb brushing absently along his jaw. “…Yeah.”

She gave him a crooked, flirty smile. “You tryna start something, Yatta?”

Kenyatta smirked right back.

“Nah,” he murmured, his voice low, dark. “I’m tryna finish something.”

Chapter 34

The ride back to Bayfront Heights was thick with silence, the kind that held too many unspoken thoughts, too much tension, too many questions neither of them were willing to voice outright. The Porsche’s smooth engine hummed low, the city lights casting flickering patterns across the sleek interior as they cut through Trinity Bay’s winding roads.

Krys sat poised but pensive in the driver’s seat, one hand gripping the wheel, the other casually resting in her lap, her thumb lightly tapping against her thigh.

Beside her in the passenger seat, Kenyatta was leaned back, one hand propped against his temple, his jaw tight, his fingers idly grazing his beard.

In the backseat, Musa was watching. He had been relaxed at first, stretched out across the seats, his massive frame taking up the space comfortably. Now, his head was lifted, his sharp eyes flicking between them, sensing the shift in the air.

Krys was still processing the day’s events. Rico pulling up had been one thing, but the way Kenyatta questioned her afterward had been something else.

“You ever lie to me?”

There was weight behind that question, something deeper than surface level curiosity. She didn’t fault him for asking; not after the way Rico laid it out there. But she was a firm believer in not exposing her hand before she knew who was playing the game.

Krys stole a quick glance at him now, his broad frame still tense, his gaze locked out the window like he was deep in thought.

He wasn’t prying, but she could tell he wanted to. The intimacy they shared earlier hadn’t erased that tension. If anything, it had amplified it.

Krys finally exhaled, rolling her neck before glancing over at Kenyatta again.

“You okay?” she asked, keeping her tone light.

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