Page 26 of Crossing Lines

She sighs. “I suppose it is natural to feel that way when you’re not receiving the attention you want from your man. Focus on your relationship. It’ll be okay.”

“Kross makes my coochie tingle,” I confess.

“Shit!” She waves to the waitress for more wine, telling her, “Leave the bottle, please.”

I slump against the seat. “What am I going to do? This has never happened in the five years of my relationship.”

“Avoid him,” she urges after drinking. “I get it. Kross is one fine ass man. If you don’t want to destroy your relationship, avoid temptation.”

“Right. I’ll stay away from the club, go to Paris, and he’ll be out of my head by the time I return.”

It feels easier said than done.

ELEVEN

Respect for my homie rises even higher as I enter the packed gallery. Preston did his thing with immaculate black-and-white photography.

“Hey, man.” He makes his way over from a group. “Thanks for coming.”

“Everything looks dope.” I give him the bro hug. “Good work. Your skills blow my mind every time.”

“Ay, don’t bring out my thug tears,” he jokes.

“Shoot,” I chuckle. “For real, though. Nicely done.”

“Pres!” Cairo approaches and daps him. “I’m impressed, bro. Who did you jack these from?”

“Here you go.” Preston shoves him a little.

“Nah, you know I’m playing. Proud of you, homie.”

“Appreciate it. Thanks for the support.”

“Great turnout, too,” Cairo marvels before sipping his drink.

Preston looks around while bobbing. “Yeah, I’m feeling pretty full.” They start talking about his creative process, and while I’m trying to listen, flashes of Davia keep distracting me. Her smile, the spark in her eyes, her sensational scent. Her voice. The way she trembled at my touch.

“Yo?”

I blink back to the present, noticing my friends staring at me with crumpled brows.

Cairo slaps my arm. “You crashing out, man?”

“Um…” I rub the back of my neck, admitting, “I can’t stop thinking about Davia.”

“Right,” Preston drones. “What was that on the rooftop last night?”

“Rooftop?” Cairo repeats, passing a confused look between us. “What happened?”

“We were getting air,” I explain. “Just talking. Then I held Davia’s hand. Now she’s in my head non-stop.”

“Iree says she has a man,” Cairo reminds me.

“Yeah, I know.” I run my palm over my face and groan in frustration. “Fucking know.”

“And?” Preston scoffs, drinking his bourbon.

Cairo throws him a stern look. “We respect relationships.” He steers back to me. “Right?”

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