Page 90 of A Kingpin's Weakness
“And me too!” Jo chimed in, like I was about to book her a flight to Bali.
All I could do was laugh. Take Jo out the country? We'd be locked up before the plane even landed.
“Damn, bro, you not gon’ introduce me to your sister?”
Noah’s friend looked me up and down like I was dessert he wasn’t supposed to touch. Young. Maybe 21. Just old enough to get in trouble.
“My bad. Stormi, this Dre. Dre, my sister Stormi.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.
I shook it. “Same. How old are you?”
“Stormi, don’t start,” Noah groaned. “I don’t question your friends.”
“I’m grown.”
“So am I,” Dre said, smiling just enough to annoy me.
“You’re a child.”
He laughed like he heard that often. “I’m 21. I know Noah's seventeen, but I look at him like a little brother. Try to keep him outta trouble since it always seems to follow him.”
“Well... thanks. I need somebody watching him while I’m not here.”
“You could always move back,” Noah said quietly.
That guilt hit me in the stomach like a sucker punch. I didn’t answer.
“Alright now, hush,” Jo cut in. “My movie about to start.”
She turned the volume up onEve’s Bayou. Classic. We’d seen it a hundred times, but Jo acted like it was a premiere every damn time. I slid back down into the couch, RJ still scrolling on his phone, Dre pulling up a kitchen chair, Noah sitting on the floor in front of the table. And just like that, we were all quiet. Watching the screen. Watching a story we already knew but still needed to feel again. For a second, I wished I wasn’t leaving. For a second, it felt like home.
Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Damn, who knockin’ like the cops are ‘bout to raid the spot?” Jo’s voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet like a whip.
I held my breath, heart thudding loud enough to be heard in the next room.
Noah stood, tense as hell. Dre’s hand slid behind him, fingers tightening on something I didn’t wanna imagine.
“Boy, you ain’t caught up in no more trouble, right?” Jo’s tone was teasing but sharp like a blade.
“No, ma’am,” Noah answered, voice steady but quiet.
“Yeah, sure.”
Noah went to the door. “Who is it?”
Nothing. Just silence. He peeped through the little window, then clicked open the lock.
“Stormi. It’s for you.”
Seth stepped in like he owned the place; calm, cool, and still dressed in that funeral black fit that made my insides twist. Damn him. Damn him and the way he looked so goddamn good, like he didn’t owe me a single apology.
My body betrayed me the moment our eyes locked that sharp lick of his lips, that confident stance. I felt my pussy get wet, a heat rising up that I hated but couldn’t deny. I wanted to hate him, but my body said otherwise.
“What’s up, everybody?” Seth’s voice cut through the tension like it was nothing.
