Page 5 of Crossing Lines

“Come on up here,” Troy urges.

I stride toward the stage, cheers buzzing in my ears until I’m at the microphone. “Good evening.”

“Wooo!”

“All right now.” The abrupt screams from the women have me laughing. “I can’t thank y’all enough for coming tonight. I hopeKrossfirebecomes your go-to spot to chill. Thanks again, and enjoy yourselves.”

As I step off the stage, Troy resumes his DJ gig, starting a hip-hop song that gets the crowd hyped.

Despite all the ladies attempting to lure me, my attention stays fixed on Davia until reaching the bar.

“I hope you’re sticking around,” I say, smiling.

“Maybe. Don’t you want to mingle?” She glances behind me. “I’m sure those women who screamed would love that.”

“I’m keeping you company.”

“Kross—”

“You have a man,” I finish. “I respect that. I’m only being friendly. So instead of sitting here turning down all the men, come to VIP. Nothing inappropriate, I swear.”

Seconds pass with her staring into my eyes, and then she picks up her drink and stands. “Okay.”

“After you.” I walk behind her, admiring the swing of her hips, thick thighs, and toned legs. Her plump booty jiggles a tad in the sexy dress as she climbs the stairs. She has me biting my lip. Her man’s lucky. If I were on some bullshit, I’d try to snatch her.

“Damn, who’s this?” Cairo sputters as we reach the top. “Respectfully, of course.”

I’m surprised to see Moya on Preston’s lap. Noticing he’s gawking at the masterpiece beside me, she purses her lips and shifts onto the seat.

“This is Davia,” I introduce. “She works with Iree. Davia, these are the homies: Cairo, Iree’s big bro, and Preston. And his girl, Mo—”

“I’m not his girl,” Moya interrupts me with attitude.

Preston clicks his tongue. “Chill, baby. You are.”

“Yeah, sure.” She hisses and chugs her drink.

“Okay then,” I drone.

“Nice to meet you, Davia,” Cairo says politely.

“You too.” She shakes their hands. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad, shorty,” Preston replies, grinning too damn much. “Not bad at a—uhh.” He flinches as Moya slaps his arm. Noticing her pout, he shrugs innocently.

“We’re hanging over there.” I shoot Preston a hard look before ushering Davia to a private spot with cozy blue velvet seats and a black marble table in the center.

“Ooh, this is nice,” she gushes, setting her martini on the table. “Fancy. How does one gain access to your VIP section?”

“Don’t worry, baby girl. You’ll always have access.”

“Is that so?” It’s a fight to avoid staring at her sexy, moisturized legs as she crosses them. “What did I do for that?”

“Aside from knowing Iree, something about you intrigues me.”

“Hmm. Need I remind you I’m in a relationship?”

“My memory’s good,” I chuckle and drink a bit. “So, what do you do atLa Monte?”

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