Page 115 of Falling Into Gravity

Right on cue—the door swung open.

Malik.

In all denim, and that blue flag, their eyes locked.

Devin didn’t move he actually stepped closer to her.

Malik’s jaw tensed, his hand still gripping the door like he needed to brace himself.

“Aku,” Malik didn’t say much verbally, but his glare said enough.

Just stepped in slow, nodded once at Devin like it was a warning, not a greeting.

He peeped everything instantly.

Aretha kept crooning from the speaker.

Ain’t no way…I’m for you…

Aku turned quick. “Malik?—”

He kept his eyes on Devin. “Y’all was havin’ a lil’ moment?”

Devin leaned back, casual as hell. “We was talkin’. That aight with you?”

“That depends,” Malik cupped his hands in front of his body. “You talkin’ as her client or a nigga who ain’t let go yet?”

Devin smiled, wide and wolfish. “You the security or the stylist?”

Malik took two steps forward. “I’m whatever I need to be when it come to her.”

Devin stepped up. Taller, broader…more Brooklyn than LA in the way he squared up. “You bang?” he asked, cocking his head.

Malik smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Do the math, cuh.”

“Watch that cuh shit, bruh.”

Aku stepped in between them. “Y’all not ‘bout to do this in my damn office.”

Niah blinked, hoping it didn’t go too far ‘cause she wasn’t strong enough to hold either man back.

“Nah,” Malik said, gaze fixed on Devin. “I’m cool, just peepin’ the energy.”

Devin chuckled, hands up. “All love. I was just sayin’ hi…getting styled while catching up with a friend.”

Malik cut his eyes. “Sounded more like a goodbye to me, cuh.”

Aku pulled Malik by the wrist, hard. “Com’ere.”

Malik didn’t move, just kept his eyes on the nigga that almost broke his baby.

He stared across the room at Devin, one brow raised like he already knew too much. The tension was so thick it felt humid. His jaw ticked once, that signature quiet rage sitting just behind the calm in his hooded eyes.

Then he glanced over at Niah. “Run that back,” he said, low.

She blinked. “Huh?”

He nodded toward the speaker. “The song. Run that Aretha back - that’s my shit.”

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