Page 55 of Flame
“And I’ll go talk to my mom and see what we can get set up. Sound good?”
I nod.
“Then we’ll get you some clothes and whatever else you want for here.”
The breeziness in which he says that tugs at my heartstrings.
“Okay,” I say.
He gives me a bashful grin. “I’m going to set the alarm when I leave. The code is seven eight nine eight if you need to turn it off. The keypad is over there.” He motions toward the wall. “It’s basically the same system you have at home.”
“I got it. I’m not going anywhere, anyway.”
He taps the counter. “All right. I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be here.”
He starts to say something else but stops himself. Instead, he shakes his head and makes a beeline for the door.
I exhale as soon as I’m alone.
I’m marrying Foxx Carmichael.
Me. Marriage. I’m marrying Foxx Carmichael.
How is this my life?
I laugh in disbelief all the way to the bathroom.
CHAPTER12
Foxx
She’s going to love this way too much.
There’s no way to break this to Mom easily. She’s going tolose her shitwhen I tell her I’m getting married.
A small grin touches my lips as I approach her porch. I never thought I would be doing this—telling Mom I need to plan a wedding.
Strangely, I’m not mad about it. Not even a little.
“Things could definitely be worse,” I mumble, opening the door. “Yes, they—don’t you fucking move.”
Banks whips around from the kitchen table. He’s startled to see me. His eyes dart from me to the hallway leading out of the back of the kitchen, trying to determine whether he’s quick enough to escape.
He’s not.
Fueled by irritation, I cut through the living room and stand across the table from him before he can finish his calculations.
“If you break anything, you’re replacing it,” Mom says, shaking her head while stirring a pot on the stove. “I’m making potato soup for dinner if you want to come by, Foxx.”
I ignore her.
“Hey, Foxxy,” Banks says. He tries to juke to the right like he’s reliving his high school fullback days. Unfortunately for him, I’m a step ahead.
I grab the table and slide it at an angle to cut off his exit. His eyes go wide. I continue to push.
“Whoa,” he says as the edge presses against him, and he’s pushed back.
