Page 12 of Crossing Lines

“It wasn’t meant to be.” I glance over her again, admiring how her black tights show off her sexy hips. “You bummed you won’t see me around here?”

She sputters a cute laugh, and it thrills me that I’m the cause. “I don’t live here, sir. I was visiting my mom. She’s moving out.”

“Ah.” I nod. “So what you up to now?”

“Heading home to relax,” she answers while motioning to her white 2023 Mazda 3 hatchback.

“Same.” I squint at her. “Want to relax with me?”

“Uh-uh.” She slowly turns her head from side to side. “Kross, I’m in arelationship.”

“That’s not what I asked, shorty. And you don’t need to keep stressing it. I respect boundaries.”

Eyes glistening in the sunlight, she stares at me quietly as if contemplating. Man, she’s gorgeous. I’ve never felt so drawn to anyone. “Well, I have to decline.”

“Understood. You enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You too.” Treating me to another smile, she hops in behind the wheel and drives off.

Considering her situation, I have no business anticipating another encounter. Yet, like tides refusing to still, it feels impossible to alleviate the strong waves of longing.

“Hey, son.” Mama G welcomes me into the kitchen with an embrace and a kiss on my cheek. “Congrats on your club opening. Cai said you had a packed house both nights.”

“Sure did,” I smile at her. “I’m feeling blessed.”

She cradles my face like a loving grandmother would. “You deserve your blessings.”

“You got a special night for us?” Falcon asks at the end of the table, scratching his short, salt-and-pepper goatee. “Me and the fellas want to enjoy ourselves.”

“Your old head has no business in a nightclub,” Cairo shades his uncle as he sits across from a giggling Iree. “Aren’t you pushing sixty?”

“Boy, if you don’t chill with that. I’m fifty-two.”

“Exactly,” Cairo taunts.

Falcon points his fork at him. “You better watch it before I knock you—”

“Hush!” Mama G warns. “None of that in here.”

I laugh as I sit beside Cairo, a spot his warm family gave me years ago after taking me off the streets. “It’s cool, Unc. Tuesdays is your night atKrossfire. Slow jams. You’ll enjoy yourself.”

“My man.” His broad grin puts his gold tooth on display. “Hear that, Mama. I’m bout to show out.”

She fans him off as she settles at the head of the table. “Say grace.”

Falcon makes it a quick prayer so we can finally eat the delicious Sunday dinner.

“What was that with you and Davia?” Iree brings up after a forkful.

“Yo, I barely got into this good food,” I mope.

“Who’s Davia?” Mama G questions eagerly.

“My co-worker,” Iree informs her before I explain.

“The woman who had Kross preoccupied all night,” Cairo adds, chuckling. “He barely paid us any mind. I don’t blame you, bro. She’s a baddie.”

“She has a man,” Iree stresses too damn loud. “Don’t start nothing and make things awkward.”

---