Page 90 of Heavy Is The Crown

Her hands had flattened against his chest, fingers digging slightly into his skin like she needed something to hold onto before she lost herself completely. Because this felt like she was losing herself. She was losing the battle; giving in to something too big, too dangerous, too real.

Kenyatta pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, his breathing ragged, uneven.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither of them moved.

Where the hell did they go from here?

Krys exhaled sharply, forcing her hands to drop from his chest, taking a step back. Distance. She needed distance. Her mind was racing, her pulse thrumming wildly against her skin.

Kenyatta watched her, his expression unreadable but his eyes held heat. Curiosity. And something else she wasn’t ready to unpack.

Krys swallowed, running a hand through her hair. “That…shouldn’t have happened.”

Kenyatta licked his lips, his smirk slow and knowing. “Nah. It definitely should’ve.”

She hated that he said that because now it was real. This wasn’t just an impulse. A fleeting moment of reckless temptation. It was something they both wanted.

Krys shook her head, trying to pull herself together. “We agreed—”

Kenyatta cut her off smoothly. “I don’t remember agreeing to not wanting you.”

Her stomach flipped. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to look him in the eye. “Kenyatta…we can’t.”

“We can.”

“No, we can’t.” She was firm and final.

He exhaled, rolling his tongue over his teeth, like he was trying to decide whether to push this further or let it go.

For a moment, it was silent.

Then, he nodded slowly, stepping back, running a hand over his jaw. “A’ight.”

Krys released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. It wasn’t relief, though. It was disappointment. Because as much as she knew this was wrong, she had never wanted something to be right so damn bad.

Musa expressed his disapproval. A loud snort echoed from the floor, followed by the deep, dramatic sigh of a dog who had seen too much.

Krys and Kenyatta both slowly turned to him.

Musa blinked at them. Then, with another sigh, he turned over and shut his eyes, clearly over the tension.

Kenyatta chuckled. “Yeah…that nigga tired of our asses.”

Krys exhaled sharply, stepping back. She needed more distance. Her mind screamed at her to reel it in, to act like this didn’t just happen.

Kenyatta studied her for a second. His head tilted, eyes dancing with a curious wonderment. His voice smooth, controlled, like he was reading every thought running through her head. “You felt that though, didn’t you?”

“Felt what?” she asked, knowing damn well what he meant.

“Between us.” Kenyatta reached for his bottle of water, never breaking eye contact. “That shit you tryna pretend ain’t there.”

Krys rolled her shoulders like she was shaking something off, reaching for her glass again. “Boy, please.”

Kenyatta watched as she took another sip, licking the wine off her lips slowly, trying to regain her edge. But she wasn’t fooling him.

“You drinking that like it’s gon’ save you,” he murmured.

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