Page 69 of Crossing Lines

“Well, I’m grateful for the second chance. I always wanted a do-over.”

That statement places a sour taste in my mouth. “Because I ruined your life?”

“Stop it,” she hisses. “It isn’t about you, Davia.”

Feeling a tension headache, I hang my head and massage my temples. “Who’s the father? Is it your new friend?”

“He’s a good man,” she asserts. “I haven’t shared the news with him yet. Planning a surprise.”

“This is certainly a surprise,” I mutter under my breath. “What about Grandma and Grandpa?”

“They’ll know when I tell them, so keep it a secret for now.” She softens her expression. “It’ll be okay.”

“Sure, Mom. Whatever you say.”

Though all I’ve pondered on the past three days is seeing Kross, I fight against the burning desire to work on my relationship.

Jamir swore not to cancel another date night and wouldn’t be late again. So, as Friday evening rolls in, I shower and moisturize with a tropical butter that makes my skin glow and smell so sweet. I slip into a satin dress, spritz Tom Ford vanilla sex perfume, and fluff my reverted curls.

I slip into heels and wait in the living room. When it reaches eight o’clock, annoyance starts to grow. I stand and pace around, looking out the window periodically. Patience dissipates as nine o’clock comes around. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Exasperated, I call his ass. I hear men laughing in the background when he answers. “J?”

“Hey, baby.” His chill response aggravates me.

“Are you serious? It’s nine. I’ve been waiting.”

“Shoot! It’s date night,” he drones. “D, baby, I completely forgot.”

I tilt my head to the ceiling, feeling like an idiot. “Seems you easily forget me these days. All you give me are crumbs.”

“I’m sorry, damn. I got caught up. I’m in Potomac but leaving in half an hour or so.”

“Stay there,” I snap. “Have fun. I’ll do the same.”

“Davia, what the hell does that mean?”

“Just as I said. Goodnight.” I end the call, power off my phone, and strut into my bedroom to change into something sexier. I’m going to see the man my heart is yearning for.

TWENTY-SIX

The guys are talking, but I’m barely paying attention. I’ve been down since the phone call with Davia on Tuesday. I can’t stop thinking about how she allows that undeserving fool to waste her time. I can give her so much more if she let me.

My hand freezes with the drink when the source of my deep longing enters the club. Davia’s gorgeous with her bouncy curls, her curves accentuated in the blue cowl-neck mini dress, and red lipstick emphasizing her full lips.God is a woman.

Excitement propels me from my seat as she climbs the stairs, hips swaying from side to side.

“You came,” I say when she reaches the top. “Thought it was date night with ol’ boy.”

She turns her head slowly. “Canceled.”

“Huh. Surprise, surprise.”

“Don’t,” she breathes out. “I want to relax tonight.”

“Okay.” I motion to my friends. “Come sit for a bit.”

She follows me to the table and waves. “Hey, y’all.”

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