Page 8 of Free to Fall

“Ave, come on?—”

“Nah,” she cut me off, finally facing me. “You figure your shit out. Cause this?” She gestured between us. “You wasting my time with distractions. I came to work. Not get snapped on cause I give a fuck about you.”

I stood, walking around the couch. “I didn’t mean to?—”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag.

“Kiss my ass, Egypt.”

And with that, she walked out. The door shut harder than necessary, echoing through the room.

I stood there, tight with guilt, then I looked down at my phone. The lock screen glowed with a preview:

Nasseem: I got wine, candles, food and a playlist wit’ yo name on it. Stop playin’. Just pull up.

I sighed, thumbs hovering.

Me: I’m busy, can’t.

I put my phone on Do Not Disturb and started shutting down the studio. My hands moved on autopilot. I hated that I got snippy with Averi when she was just trying to check on me. Hated that she walked out mad. Hated that I wasn’t brave enough to tell her the real reason I was so out of pocket. I wastangled up in a situationship with the one man I swore I’d never let get close. And it was starting to fuck everything up.

I satin the makeup chair, letting the stylist touch up my edges and swipe blush across my cheeks. I kept sneaking glances at Averi in the chair beside me, but she wasn’t looking at me. She hadn’t said a word since she walked in.

Nohey,…Nopass the gloss…Nothing. She was cold. Her phone lit up every few minutes with Royal’s name and heart emojis. She laughed once. Loud and petty.

Serenity walked in mid-glam, always on time with a green juice in one hand and her script in the other. She scanned the room, then gave us both a look. “Y’all beefin’ or something?”

I sighed. “Not really.”

“Then why the energy feel off? Usually, when I walked in here, ya’ll don’t stop talking. Both of ya’ll be loud as hell even at 6AM.”

Averi didn’t say a thing. Just applied her lip liner and gave me a look.

Serenity sat on the edge of the counter. “This our last few days together on this set. This the shit y’all wanna remember?”

I bit my lip. She was right. “Ave…” I turned toward her, softer this time. “I’m sorry. I was trippin’. You didn’t deserve that.”

Averi blinked at me, then sighed, finally relenting. “I accept your apology,” she said. “But fix your fucking attitude before I drag you.”

I laughed, relieved. Serenity grinned. “See how easy that was?”

Averi added, “And while you at it? Go get some dick and calm the hell down.”

Serenity spit out her juice, choking on a laugh. I laughed too, even though the truth was, getting dicked down was the whole reason for the attitude in the first place.

Eight of ussat around the long table. Laughter bouncing off exposed brick. Candlelight casting glows across champagne flutes. Creed and Serenity. Royal and Averi. Arielle and Brodie. Me and Nasseem… I mean, technically.

To everyone else, we were the same old Egypt and Nas, bickering, throwing jabs, side-eying each other from across the table like we didn’t have history dripping off our skin. Our friends were so used to the way we went back and forth, they didn’t even blink when I rolled my eyes at him or when he let out that low chuckle that always got under my damn skin.

But under the table? The heat between us was like a slow burn; intense, quiet, undeniable. Every shift in his seat made me more aware of him. Every time he leaned back and licked his lips like he wasn’t even trying to be fine, my breath caught for just a second. I’d glance down and catch his fingers drumming lightly against his thigh, the same thigh I knew was solid muscle, the same one I’d pressed into not too long ago; skin to skin.

He knew exactly what he was doing. And I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted to touch him under the table, trace my fingertips over the back of his hand, lace our fingers together. I wanted to lean over and kiss him without caring who saw. But instead…

“Wow,” I said, eyeing his empty glass. “So, you just gon’ order the last pour of the Louis XIII and not offer nobody else a taste?”

He raised his glass and swirled what was left with a lazy grin. “Ain’t no law against being faster than you.”

“Just annoying,” I muttered, leaning forward slightly, just enough for our eyes to meet across the candlelit table. “And where the fuck you get that shirt? Looks like it came from the clearance bin at Marshalls.”

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