Page 82 of Falling Into Gravity

“I don’t like anybody, Noodle. You know me—I’m a lover girl. I be getting caught up with the possibilities. But him?” Aku sat up. “He makes me feel…seen…like, fully - even the parts of me I try to dim so I don’t scare people. He don’t mind my mouth or that my people got money.”

“That’s what it’s supposed to feel like,” Noodle said. “You’re supposed to feel safeandlit up.”

Aku snorted. “I’m emotionally unstable.”

They both laughed. The kind of laugh that made Aku forget about the butterflies in her chest for a second.

“I like y’all,” Noodle added. “Even from a distance. It’s giving…grounding. He calms you.”

“And I scare him,” Aku said, smirking. “Just enough to let him know not to play with me.”

“Balance.” Noodle snickered, feeding into Aku’s playfulness. “Bu told me he snatched your butt out the club.”

“It didn’t go like that…Noodle, I had that nigga’s head between my legs on the side of the road.”

Noodle snorted a laugh. “Oh yea, he might be the perfect crazy to handle you…Siasia called me asking about your little situation. The family is scrambling to get the tea.”

“You better not tell her!” Aku hollered.

“You know your secrets are always safe with me.”

Aku pursed her lips. “I have to make sure. You on Qamar’s side of the family and he can be a little messy.”

“Not too much, on him.” They both had to laugh at that, ’cause it was true.

They talked for another hour—about the script Noodle was reading for a movie, set in Emerald City, and about French calling again just to “check who’s around” like she didn’t know what that meant. They ended up gushing about how nobody could ever make shrimp and grits like Ahvi.

Time flew by when they found time to just catch up like this. Aku used that time to apply her makeup and any last minute touches to her outfit.

Knock knock.

Aku scrambled to hang up, suddenly flushed. “He here. Bye - love you.”

“Be yourself, don’t overthink it,” Noodle sang through the phone. “And send me a picture!”

“I’m outside hoe!” Aku laughed, hanging up.

After a deep inhale, Aku opened the door. Her smile widened immediately.

Malik stood there, lean and fly and fine in a way that punched her in the gut. His black tee was fitted, stretching slightly over his chest and arms. Baggy cargos sagged just right over his kicks—crisp black Air Forces, fresh out the box. A thick silver chain rested on his chest, catching the light. His bottom grill flashed when he smiled low. Tattoos danced up both arms, snuck around his neck, and kissed his cheekbone in the corner—just above his eye.

God.

He was street royalty and all hers tonight.

“You clean up good,” she said, voice soft, yet teasing.

He smirked, eyes traveling over her body like he had to commit it to memory. “You clean up disrespectful. I’m tryna focus and them jeans ain’t lettin’ me.”

She laughed, pulling her door closed behind her. “Thank you…I think.”

He glanced down at her heels, then back up with heat in his eyes. “You ready?”

“I been ready.”

He offered his arm. She looped hers through it, after grabbing her purse.

They stepped into the night. Two beautiful, dangerous souls who knew the cost of love, but were still willing to pay it.

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