13. Leftovers

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Ice Man
Come eat breakfast with me.

That was the text.

Justice didn't know I had sex with Jabari... he just wanted breakfast. I can do breakfast.

Sure.

I bit my thumb as I waited for his response and for the bubble full of three dots to magically turn into words.

Ice Man
6 good?

A response in the affirmative was already sent by the time I realized that I didn't drive to Jabari's. In fact, we weren't even in walking distance of my car.

Shit.

"Hey," I poked Jabari lightly once I turned over to face him. "Could you drop me by my car?" I whispered, poking his face a couple more times to get his attention.

He groaned in annoyance at my pestering and slapped my hand away a few good times to prove it. His eyes squinted open before taking a glance at his alarm clock.

"It's almost 5 in the morning, Hyacinthe. Give me ten more minutes and then we can go another round." I rolled my eyes at his antics but pushed forward anyway.

"I was kinda hoping to get back to my apartment if that's cool." I responded, and Jabari sighed loudly before conceding.

I loved when things went my way.

🦋

By the time I got back to my apartment, I had less than 30 minutes to shower and get dressed.

The idea of eating breakfast with Justice when sex still clung to my skin made me sick. It also sent me into a spiral of frustrated confusion about why I even cared or why I hadn't just stayed at Jabari's to begin with.

Jabari and I were two consenting adults. Justice and I were friends. Everyone was in their own lanes, so no need to worry.

Except I couldn't help myself.

I wanted to keep the relationship—friendship I had with Justice in tact. Even though he'd only come into my life recently, I couldn't imagine not having him around now. He'd gotten under my skin without me even realizing it.

"Cinthe." Justice breathed as I walked up to him, and we were caught in an embrace that was both intimate and friendly at the same time.

"Ice Man." I greeted back, laughter in my voice, but Justice frowned at me as we pulled apart.

Before I could walk around the car, his calloused hands grasped my face tenderly to look me dead in my eyes. Guilt swelled in me at how gingerly he was treating me, and his next words didn't help the feeling.

"You're heavy today, Cinthe." He said lowly.

My spiral seemed neverending, and my inability to control myself was only adding to it. I couldn't even help myself from briefly wondering what it would be like to lay against him and feel the vibrations of his deep timbre against my skin.

"You calling me fat?" I joked but didn't move. Being the sole focus of his attention was maddeningly addictive, even when I was feeling undeserving of it.

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