Page 145 of Heavy Is The Crown

Kenyatta gave her a look. “A’ight, but only ‘cause I know you gon’ keep trying me if I don’t.”

She grinned. “Exactly.”

As the waitress took their order, Krys leaned back, letting the moment settle over her. The energy between them felt good. Playful. Easy. Natural.

“So,” Kenyatta mused, looking her over with lazy admiration. “What’s next after brunch? You tryna go back to the house and let me—”

“Boy, drink that water in front of you and cool down.”

The moment had finally arrived where neither of them were running from this. It was real. It was what they both wanted. It just…was.

After a while, the sun-drenched rooftop of Rosé & Rye was alive with the vibrant hum of weekend brunch, glasses clinking, easy laughter floating through the air, and the lingering scent of spiced seafood and freshly baked pastries drifting in from the kitchen.

Krys had just taken a slow sip of her mimosa, smirking as Kenyatta reluctantly finished his own. “See? Not so bad, right?”

Kenyatta shook his head, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Mimosas ain’t bad. But don’t ever get it twisted, I ain’t ordering this on my own. You got me out here looking real brunch n’ bougie.”

She giggled, reaching for another piece of her strawberry-stuffed French toast. “Nah, you fit right in. You could definitely pass for a Midtown Skyline type.”

Kenyatta scoffed. “Hell nah. I’m Southside Haven all day, baby. This Midtown life cool, but I know where I come from.”

Krys gave him a knowing look. “But you also know how to move in both spaces. That’s power.”

Kenyatta leaned back, observing her. “And what about you? Where you fit in?”

She shrugged, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “Everywhere.”

Kenyatta took delight in watching her with that easy, knowing gaze. “Yeah. I figured. You move like you own every room you step in.”

Krys tilted her head slightly, lips curving. “Because I do.”

Kenyatta chuckled, shaking his head. “Cocky as hell.”

“Confident.” She corrected, swirling her mimosa. “There’s a difference.”

His eyes darkened slightly as he leaned forward, voice dropping just enough to make her sit up a little straighter. “You wasn’t that confident last night though.”

Krys took another sip, avoiding his gaze. She feigned puzzlement. “What do you mean? I don’t know what you talking about.”

Kenyatta leaned closer, elbows on the table, his voice smooth. “I mean, you had all that talk about control and shit…And then the way you was looking at me this morning?” He let his tongue run over his bottom lip before flashing that cocky smirk. “Let’s just say, you ain’t gotta say it. I already know.”

Krys arched a brow, setting her glass down with precision. “Oh, you know?”

“Mmhmm,” Kenyatta nodded, fingers drumming against the table. “I know.”

She leaned back, crossing her legs slowly, dragging out the moment. “Then tell me,what exactlydo you know, Yatta?”

Kenyatta ran his thumb over his beard, eyes roaming over her face like he was deciding just how much he wanted to give away. He could tease her, play coy, butfuckthat; he wanted her to know exactly where he stood.

“You were more beautiful than I imagined,” he admitted, voice low, sincere. “And the way that shit felt?” He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “Beyond what I expected. Beyond anything.”

For the first time, Krys actually blushed.

It was quick, barely there, but Kenyatta caught it. Judging by the way her lips pursed slightly, she caught herself too. But, true to form, Krys recovered fast.

She swirled her mimosa lazily, regaining her composure. “I mean…what can I say? Iamimpressive.”

Kenyatta let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Here we go.”

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