Page 30 of For the Lover in You
"Me neither," Chasity answered.
My mind wandered who it could be. It was five o'clock in the evening on a Saturday. All the apartment staff were gone, so it couldn't have been them.
I stood and walked over to the door. I tried my best to peek through the peephole, but it was too high.
"Open the door. We've got your back!" Chasity assured me.
When I spun around, Chasity and Trina stood behind me. Trina had the broom in her hand, and Chasity held the vase from the table.
I opened the door and was stunned by what stood on the other side.
"Damn," Trina mumbled behind me.
I blinked rapidly to make sure my eyes weren't fooling me.
"Mr. Houston, what are you doing here?"
I looked to his left and right, and Owen and Vance stood beside him.
"Hey, y'all!" Chasity greeted from behind. I could hear the smile in her tone.
"What's up, Chas?" they replied.
She giggled like a little schoolgirl, making me roll my eyes.
"Mr. Houston, again, what are you doing here?"
I took in his appearance. He was relaxed, just as he had been the first time I met him. This time he wore a pair of gray sweatpants, a plain white tee, and some sneakers. He had on agold Cuban link and a hoop earring. I tried my hardest not to take in how sexy he looked.
"I just stopped by to drop this off for you."
I noticed he had a box in his hand. It was a pink footstool with white Polka dots. There was a white bow at the top of it.
"Mr. Houston... I?—"
"That's so sweet of you. Oh my goodness. Come on in," Tina interrupted, stepping in front of me. "Hell, all of y'all come on in."
Chasity shoved me to the side, smiling harder when Vance crossed over the threshold.
"Y'all want some wine?" Chasity offered.
"Sure, I can take a glass," Vance stated.
"Y'all ain't got nothing harder?" Owen asked.
Their voices faded as they walked further away from the door, leaving Tremaine and me there.
"I didn't think you had company. I should've called before I just popped up over here."
"It's okay. A phone call would've been a nice warning, though."
"Next time, I'll make sure I call."
My stomach did cartwheels at his sincere tone. Instead of trying to process my feelings, I diverted my attention back to the stool.
"Thank you for the footstool." I went to reach for it.
He placed it in my hands, and our hands softly brushed against each other. I couldn't help but feel the electricity shooting through my body.
