Page 26 of The Sweetest Return

I stared at him.

The audacity was comfortable on him. Easy. Like he trusted the ground beneath his own feet and did not need me to confirm it.

“Imani.”

“Imani what?”

“Why?”

He blinked, then laughed. “Damn, you answer every question with one?”

“Only the questionable ones.”

His mouth curved again, and something in my stomach moved before I gave it permission.

“What?” I asked.

“That mouth.”

My eyebrows lifted.

His smile stayed, but his eyes warmed. “I mean you talk back quick.”

“That is not what you said.”

“That is what I meant.”

“Convenient.”

He laughed again, and I hated how much I liked it.

“Andre!” one of his teammates called. “Come on, man.”

I glanced toward them, then back at him. The girls were watching now. So were two of the players. Enough for me to remember where I was and who he was to everybody standing around us.

I hugged my book to my chest and stood.

“I need to get back to studying.”

His gaze held mine for one more beat, like he was deciding whether to keep me there a little longer.

Then he nodded.

“Aight, Imani.”

He let me go.

No demand for my number. No performance for the audience waiting behind him. He simply stepped back, joined the group, and walked away like he had not just interrupted the entire rhythm of my afternoon.

But he looked back once.

So did I.

Then I sat down, opened Consumer Behavior to the same page, and pretended any part of me remembered what I had been reading.

The first time Andre Jones entered my life, he picked up my book, made me laugh, and walked away.

My mother’s voice pulled me back.