Page 43 of Awakening
“Who’s got you two smiling like that?” I asked, stepping inside.
Ajaih looked up with a grin, and Maverick tilted hishead back toward me. I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Ajaih’s bare shoulder, then brushed my lips against Maverick’s neck. He hummed softly, his eyes never leaving the screen.
Curious, I stepped around to look.
And froze.
Not because I was surprised, but because I was caught off guard by just how beautiful the woman on the screen was. Gleaming brown skin glowing under warm lighting, dark eyes full of knowing and calm, and a smile that felt like an invitation and a dare wrapped in silk, I noticed she had on a white coat and a stethoscope, making my dick twitch because it did nothing to hide the dangerous curves I knew lived underneath it.
“This is Layanna,” Ajaih said, catching the flicker in my expression.
“Yanna,” the woman corrected with a wink, “Only my patients call me Layanna.”
I smiled, holding her gaze. “Nice to meet you. I’m Knox.”
“I’ve heard,” she said, voice smooth as velvet, “You photograph well, but you look better in motion.”
That spark. The same spark I felt when I met Ajaih. The same spark I felt when I met Dana. I know it was cliche, but I was drawn to them like a moth to a flame.
I was like a deer in headlights, blushing as her fine ass complimented me.
“Thank you, Gorgeous,” I countered, “I would return the compliment, but you got me stuck right now, damn.”
Maverick chuckled and squeezed Ajaih’s knee as she giggled.
Yanna smirked and tilted her head, “See y’all tonight.”She gave us a wink and ended the call.
I straightened slowly, glancing between them, “Tonight?”
Ajaih stood, stretching like a cat. “We’re meeting up at Provocateur. Yanna, Caleb, Ahmir… and Dana.”
That last name hit like a slap of cold water. I blinked.
“Dana?” I echoed.
Ajaih nodded casually, heading toward the bedroom. “Yep. We have a VIP suite in the lounge. You’ll like her—she’s incredible.”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. No. Couldn’t be. Dana’s a common name. Lots of women distribute wine and flirt like it’s an art form, right?
Right?
Dana.
Her name echoed louder in my head than it should have. My mind flashed back to the first time I saw her stepping into that bistro like she’d rehearsed the moment, like the world had paused to let her be seen. And damn, did she deserve to be seen.
She wasn’t just beautiful, she was arresting.
That cropped blonde cut framed her face like a sculptor had carved it by hand, velvet skin, almond-shaped eyes filled with intensity, lined just enough to suggest she didn’t need to try hard. They didn’t just look at you; they lingered, like she was tasting the idea of you with her gaze.
And those lips? Full. Deliberate. Pouty and nude, making you think about what they’d taste like with wine or a whisper of your name.
She didn’t smile often, but when she did, it felt like the payoff for a secret you didn’t know you were telling. And her voice? Low, measured, almost lazy in its confidence.Like she knew she didn’t need to raise it to command a room. Dana had walked into my life like a poured glass of Maison Noire, smooth, intoxicating, and just the right amount of dangerous.
Now the name hung in the air like smoke.
And I had no idea if I was about to step into a collision or a reckoning. Still, something inside me coiled tight with intrigue and wonder. The Dana I’d met had been captivating, confident, and suddenly, I realized how close she could be to the people I was trying to build something real with.
I didn’t say anything. Not yet, because there was a chance this was all just a coincidence, and there was an even bigger chance that the universe was providing every sign possible that this was where I needed to be with whom I needed to be.
