Page 91 of Heavy Is The Crown

Krys arched a brow. “Save me from what?”

He leaned in slightly, voice low and teasing. “From accepting a decision you’ve already made. You just need to let go and let it happen.”

Krys exhaled slowly, setting her glass down, this time further away, like she was daring herself not to reach for it again. “You really think you got me figured out, huh?”

Kenyatta smirked. “I think you been running from something you been wanting to face. You want the shit. And I think…I ain’t gotta rush you. You’ll get there.”

She studied him, her tongue running over her bottom lip in thought.

“AndifI do?” she asked, voice quieter this time.

Kenyatta let his gaze flick over her slowly, deliberately, before he looked her dead in the eye.

“Then I’ll be ready for you. Just slip up one mo’ time like you just did…I’ll be ready.”

Chapter 23

Kenyatta woke up to the smell of coffee and something sweet wafting through the air. The sun had barely risen over Bayfront Heights, casting golden streaks over the waterfront. He blinked against the light streaming through the guest room’s oversized windows, his body tense like he hadn’t gotten a moment of real rest; because he hadn’t.

Last night, that kiss had shifted something.

Now, here he was, waking up in her house with his daughter still sleeping in another room. In her guest room, under her roof.

He’d laid there for a while, staring at the ceiling of the spacious guest suite, listening to the faint sound of waves from the bay just beyond the estate. The bed was too damn soft, the sheets smelled like lavender and money, and the whole house was too damn quiet.

Except it wasn’t; Krys was up. Moving. Avoiding. And he noticed.

Dragging a hand over his face, he exhaled deeply and rolled out of bed. If Krys was anything like him, she was probably going to act like nothing happened. He was aware that she was already good at that.

From the moment the sun cracked over the water, she had been everywhere except near him. He had heard the faint murmur of her voice behind closed doors, the soft hum of her office phone, her feet padding against marble floors as she moved between rooms.

He caught glimpses of her in passing, like a damn ghost in her own house. First disappearing into her office, door shut, voice hushed. Then ducking into her massive walk-in closet, rearranging things that didn’t need rearranging. At one point she was in the home gym, not even working out, just messing with her equipment.

The longest stretch has been in that damn bathroom. Skincare. Hair. Perfume. He swore she spent half the morning making sure she looked like she hadn’t spent the night caught up with him. And that’s what got him, because even with all that effort she still looked flawless. Like she woke up knowing she was the coldest woman in the room.

Fresh-faced but still put together, skin glowing, lips glossed, nails perfect, the subtle scent of vanilla and something expensive trailing behind her as always. She moved through her house like she ran a Fortune 500 company and a drug cartel at the same time. Which, for all he knew, she did. Through all that not once did she come looking for him.

Kenyatta finally made his way to the kitchen, giving himself something to do instead of sitting around feeling like a guest in her world.

Musa was already there, stretched out on the cool marble floor near the island, gnawing lazily on some fancy-ass chew toy that probably cost more than Kenyatta’s whole outfit.

The second Kenyatta stepped inside, Musa perked up, his cropped ears twitching. Just as quickly, he hopped up onto all fours, his massive body moving with unexpected agility for something his size.

Kenyatta shook his head. “Damn, big man. You act like I just got here.”

Musa huffed dramatically, his tail wagging slightly before he padded toward Kenyatta, bumping against his leg with enough force to remind him exactly who ran this house.

Kenyatta chuckled, giving the dog a rough pat. “A’ight, I see you. You missed me or somethin’?”

Musa responded with a sudden, playful lunge, shoving his huge head into Kenyatta’s stomach like a linebacker.

“Damn, bruh, chill!” Kenyatta laughed, stumbling back half a step.

Musa let out a deep woof, his tail moving now, tongue hanging slightly as if he found amusement in his own antics.

“Oh, so you hyper today?”

Musa dropped into a slight crouch, like he was contemplating a full-blown tackle.

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