Page 56 of The Sweetest Return

How were we supposed to have a private conversation with all our friends in the mix pretending not to watch us?

When he finally disappeared into whatever important men did when rooms got too full, I was still feeling his hand at my back, his voice near my ear, and the sight of that whiskey touching his mouth like I had been the reason he needed it.

That was the part that kept replaying.

The heat, yes. Dre had looked at me like the purple silk was a personal problem and my tattoo had committed a crime against his peace. My body had answered him so fast it embarrassed me. One look from that man, and my heart beat harder, my pussy thumped, and eight years started acting like they had evaporated out of respect for his face.

Ridiculous.

Offensive, even.

I had been involved with Damien long enough for him to deserve more than being pushed to the side of my mind by one night in Dre’s presence. Damien had been thoughtful. Patient. Successful. Good to me in ways I would not dismiss simply because my first love had walked back into a room looking like dark chocolate, restraint, and unfinished business.

Still, I woke up Friday morning with Damien’s message on my phone and Dre in my body.

Damien: I know you don’t owe me anything. I just hate how we left things.

I had stared at the text until the screen dimmed.

I owed him honesty. I owed myself the same.

But I had not replied.

Maybe that made me cowardly for the morning. Temporary, definitely. I would deal with Damien. I had to.

Just not while Andre Jones was still all over my nerves from the night before.

“Are you listening to me?”

I blinked and looked over at Camille.

She stood beside me in a white romper and oversized sunglasses, holding a lemonade in one hand and wearing the expression of a woman who had been speaking for at least thirty seconds without being properly admired. For Camille, a Leo by birth and by every dramatic choice she had ever made, that counted as a personal injury.

“Absolutely.”

“Liar.”

Noelle smiled from my other side. “You were staring at the alumni banner.”

“I was looking at the logo placement.”

Camille followed my gaze toward the banner stretched across one side of the lawn. “You were looking irritated.”

“Because the logos are too close together.”

Noelle’s smile widened. “That is exactly what she was doing.”

“Thank you.”

Camille lifted her glass. “I apologize. I thought you had drifted off into Andre-land again.”

“I have no idea where that is.”

Camille lowered her sunglasses just enough for me to see her eyes. “Girl, who the hell you tryna fool?”

Noelle made a tiny sound.

I turned to her. “Don’t join her.”