Page 91 of Crossing Lines

I set the plates on the table and pour the wine.

“Thank you.” She picks up a forkful of food, moaning as she eats. “Mmm. Oh my god. Kross, this is delicious.”

“Merci.” I start eating.

“Can I ask you something?” she says after a few bites.

“Always. Go ahead.”

“When did you find your mom?”

I drink some wine before answering. “At nineteen. She was high as a kite, lying in an alley.”

Sympathy morphs her face as she touches my hand on the table.

“I brought her to a clinic. She swore she’d get clean when she became clear enough to realize it was me. She tried for two weeks and relapsed. Mama G found out. Warned me not to get my hopes up and focus on my life. Yet, over the years, I continued checking on my mom. She made several attempts but never lasted.”

“I can’t imagine the heartbreak you’ve endured.”

“Hm.” I glance at my food. “I try not to think about it to avoid falling apart.”

“I understand.”

“Davi.” I meet her gaze while tracing her fingers. “Career aside, what else do you want?”

Her eyes glisten. “I want a husband and kids—a loving home. I’d stopped thinking about it when Jamir told me he didn’t like kids. I thought he’d change his mind, but it’s beyond clear that we want different things. I’m almost thirty, so I’m…”

“Ready to start,” I realize.

“And I want a man who’s ready for that.”

“Got it, baby girl.”

The conversations continue through dinner, and then we relax on the sofa.

“I like this,” I admit. “I’ve never enjoyed just chilling with someone. Not like this.”

She rests her head on the cushion. “Why is that?”

“I’ve had my guard up. Aside from my family, I never allowed anyone to get close. But you, Davi.”

“What about me, Kross?” she asks softly.

I caress her cheek. “You tore down my walls. It’s your authenticity. Your passion for what you do. You.” I shift closer. As our lips meet, knocking pulls us apart.

Davia wrings her hands in her lap nervously. I rise from the sofa to check the camera. Seeing Iree, I open the door halfway.

“Hey.” She pushes past me without an invitation. “That car out front looks like…” She gasps as she sees Davia. “What the hell?”

Davia stands and tries to explain. “Iree, listen—”

“It’s none of her business,” I interject. “You don’t owe her an explanation.”

Iree scoffs. “Are y’all sneaking around?”

“Didn’t I say to mind your business?” I huff. “What are you doing here anyway?”

She sucks her teeth and cuts to Davia. “I never thought you were that person.” She steers back to me. “Just like I expected you to be better. Mama G would be disappointed.”

---