Page 7 of Falling for 42
“Why?” His voice dips with that light tease, almost a purr. “Got someone else lined up, or is it a rain check?”
I falter for a beat too long, and Sid’s eyes narrow, his brow pinching ever so slightly. He leans in, just enough to take that step closer. “C’mon,” he says, tilting his head toward the back. “Let’s talk in private.”
I nod, and together, we slip into the back room. The shift from the loud music pumping across the shop floor to the quieter, dimly lit space jolts my senses. The door hasn’t even clicked shut before he’s moving toward me, backing me up with a smirk that suggests he thinks he knows exactly what we’re doing in here. His hand grazes my waist, and his smile widens as he eyes my lips.
“Sid,” I say, bracing myself and putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “That’s not what I came back here for. We… we need to talk.”
His expression freezes, the smirk slipping as his eyes narrow again. “Oh?” He’s still holding his ground, muscles taut under the sleevse of his shirt, and though he doesn’t say it out loud, there’s the unmistakable message in his posture: he’s bracing himself, prepared to fight to keep whatever’s going on between us.
“It’s been fun, Sid,” I say, meeting his gaze, trying for firm but gentle. “But it’s time to stop.”
There’s a flash of surprise that fades quickly, leaving his features harder, tight with restrained irritation. He lets out a humorless laugh, crossing his arms and eyeing me like I’m a puzzle that doesn’t quite fit together. “Right. So, what’s changed?” he asks, his tone deceptively casual. “This is out of the blue. You just… woke up and decided to stop?”
Before I can answer and remind him that I’ve already slowed things down with him this past month, the door opens, and Max, one of our artists, steps in, looking between us with an eyebrow raised, no doubt sensing the tension. “Uh, sorry to interrupt. Need some supplies, that’s all.”
Sid’s jaw clenches, and without a word, he shoulders past Max, leaving the room with the faint click of the door. I exhale slowly, feeling the weight lift from my chest.
Max studies me, his head cocked in curiosity. “What wasthatall about?”
“Just… over.” I shrug, not wanting to get into details. “It’s been done for a while now. I just finally pulled the plug.”
Max nods, understanding without prying. “Gotcha. Good on you, then.”
Then, as if on cue, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, and a text from Malik lights up my screen, making my heart do this odd little flutter. My smile is immediate as I read it. Max notices, his eyebrows rising as he watches my face.
“Wanna share with the class who’s got you smiling like that?” he asks, amused. Before I can respond, he says, “Holy shit, did something happen last night at your brother’s game?”
I nod, grinning. “Yeah. I guess… I met someone.”
Max gives a little chuckle. “Damn… and you’re already smiling like that? Fuck, man, you’re totally screwed.” He snorts loudly as he grabs his supplies while I flip him off and leave the room.
As I type back a reply to Malik’s text telling me he’s finished training for the day and got his ass handed to him by his coach after his faceplant yesterday, Malik shoots back another one: his schedule for the month. He’s organized it neatly, listing his practices, exams, and breaks. A tug of excitement and anticipation builds in my chest as I try to figure out when, between our busy schedules—and honestly, his is insanely busy with classes and basketball—we’re going to see each other again.
Pulling myself back to reality, I walk out to the front and find Maggie. “Hey, Maggie, can we move some things around on my schedule?”
She nods, smirking knowingly. “Lemme guess. That smile’s got something to do with it?”
“Just a little bit,” I admit, not hiding the grin.
It takes a few minutes of negotiation, but when we’re done, the best we can do is three weeks. I sigh, disappointed, but I’m already planning a way around it. I hate talking on the phone—always have—but for Malik, the drive and call are worth it. And who knows? Maybe I can surprise him, work out a way for us to cross paths a little sooner.
I send Malik a quick text with a link to my calendar.
Me: I’ve got an opening in three weeks that could work. Let me know.
Because, yeah, officially we’re seeing each other so I can work on the sleeve he wants, but after those heated kisses we shared last night, I’ll happily be offering my bed up for him to stay over.
Malik: Hell yes. Schedule me in. That’s amazing. Thank you.
I smile, having already locked down the date, hoping that would be his response.
Malik: But if there’s a chance of us seeing each other sooner…
I don’t hesitate as I shoot him a response.
Me: Leave it with me.
Malik: Great. I’ve gotta go shower, then work on an assignment.
