Page 45 of Heavy Is The Crown

She put on her best Pam voice, tilting her head slightly. “Tell that fool he still owe me for them tires I had to get back in ‘08, and don’t think I forgot about that time he stole my damn blender.”

Eddie threw his head back, laughing. “I knew she was gon’ bring up the blender!”

Lauren shook her head, laughing. “Y’all so damn childish.”

Krys enjoyed the moment, laughing along with them, while the conversation flowed around her. Everyone was happy. Everyone was at peace.

Her balance.

And yet…thoughts of Kenyatta crept back into her mind. She barely knew him. Didn’t want to know him.

But something about the way Eddie called him Yatta, the way people spoke about him in half-warning, half-respect, stuck with her.

She told herself she wasn’t intrigued.

But she was lying.

Chapter 11

The Airbnb was decked out, modern, sleek, and expensive. Floor-to-ceiling windows, and an open-concept living room kitchen combo where drinks were already being poured. The vibe was intimate but electric, music humming through the speakers, laughter mixing with the scent of good food and expensive cologne.

Krys walked in like she owned the place.

A crisp, fitted white two-piece set clung to her petite frame; a cropped satin top and high-waisted, wide-leg pants that flowed effortlessly as she moved. Minimalist gold jewelry, flawless acrylics, and soft makeup. The type of effortless beauty that made people stop and look.

Then there was Kenyatta. He cleaned up too damn well. A white button-down, sleeves rolled up just enough to flex his tatted forearms, nicely fitted white slacks, and a thin Cuban link chain peeking from beneath his first undone button. He wasn’t flashy, but his presence alone did the work. Relaxed. Confident. Effortless.

When Krys first saw him, she almost did a double take. She hated that.

Kenyatta clocked her reaction immediately, smirking like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“We matching too well, Bae.” His deep voice was low and teasing. “People might really think you mine.”

Krys arched a brow, keeping her cool. “Just don’t embarrass me.”

Kenyatta chuckled, adjusting his watch. “Ain’t my style, Bae.”

The dining table had been transformed into a charcuterie board competition, each couple bringing their own themed board. Ray and her man, Jared did a Taco Tuesday board, tiny tortillas stacked next to shot glasses of margarita mix. Meisha and her boyfriend Mark had a Seafood Boil board; shrimp, crab legs, cornbread muffins. Tyra and her mama, Aunt Shonda, went full Soul Food Sunday; fried chicken wings, mac and cheese bites, and miniature Kool-Aid pickles.

And Krys and Kenyatta brought nothing. Krys had been too caught up in making sure he didn’t make a fool of her to even think about it.

Ray peeped that immediately. “Y’all ain’t bring a board?” she teased, sipping her drink.

Before Krys could respond, Kenyatta slid an arm lazily around her waist. The touch was light, but intentional.

“We brought the best one here,” he said smoothly.

The group eyed him, intrigued.

“Yeah?” one of the cousins asked. “What board is that?”

Kenyatta smirked, nodding toward Krys. “The Bad Bitch Board. I mean, look at her.”

The room erupted in laughter, playful agreement with a few haters being dismissive rolling through the crowd.

Krys had to bite back a smile. She cut Kenyatta a look, silently telling him to chill, but he just lifted a brow like,What? I got this.

Tyra, perched nearby with her drink, suddenly narrowed her eyes at Kenyatta, recognition flickering across her face.

---