Inevitable

Chapter 1

Amir's POV

The sun poured through the sheer curtains, spilling golden syrup across the dark wood floors and the thick paws of Timothy, my dog, sprawled belly-up in the middle of the room.

I adjusted my watch-military-grade, encrypted, imported through one of the private channels I kept quiet-its gold glint catching the light as I studied myself in the mirror. Fresh lineup. Beard crisp. Chest broad under the tailored black tee that hugged every gym-earned line.

Carnival Saturday had finally come. The day of Wuk Up & Wine-the biggest, boldest, most reckless party of the season. But I wasn't in it for the reckless. Not really. Not anymore.

I ran my fingers over the beard I'd spent two years perfecting, gave my lips-a little two-toned, always a topic for a few curious DMs-a quick once-over with shea butter. Moisturized. Intentional. Annoyingly punctual. It came with the territory-accountant by day, discipline in my DNA. Everything filed, calculated, balanced... except maybe my love life.

Tim let out a small huff, watching as I packed my cologne-oud and citrus, my signature.

"Me look good, don't?"

His tail thumped twice.

He always watched me like he knew more than a dog should. Maybe he did. Timothy had been by my side since that one night by the gorge. The beginning of everything.

I laughed, deep and easy, the kind that made women at the office linger too long by my cubicle. But lately, there was a quiet to my life, the kind of silence even gym playlists and mountain hikes couldn't drown.

Tonight, I needed something different. Not just a wining partner or another flirt with no follow-through. Maybe not even a hookup. I didn't know. But I felt it-deep in my chest. A pull.

As I slid my sunglasses onto my face, my gaze dark behind mirrored lenses, I told myself it was just a party. But part of me hoped the night would prove otherwise. I silenced the second phone in my back pocket-the one nobody knew I carried-and stepped into the heat like a man walking into war, not just wine.

Downtown Kingston was already on ten-sun blazing like it had something to prove, horns cussing each other from every angle, route taxis parked reckless as ever. My grip tightened on the steering wheel-a reinforced, custom-installed one Jordan thought was overkill-as I circled the block again, jaw flexed.

"Mi cyaa believe say not even one likkle spot deh pon earth fi mi," I muttered.

Sweat traced the edge of my beard, even with the AC blasting. The sun kissed my deep brown skin like it missed me-rich and smooth, glistening now in all the wrong ways.

Then-miracle. A narrow space opened between two trucks. Tight. But I slid the Audi in like a boss, reversed, corrected, slid again. Precision. Accountant precision.

As soon as I stepped out the car-boom.

"Aye, sexy, yuh cyaa gimme a try? Mi love a tall dark man like yuh!"

I turned just in time to see a madman in an oversized marina blow me a kiss with gusto. One hand on his chest, the other in the air like he was catching the Holy Ghost.

"Father God," I whispered. "Not even 9 ah clock!"

I shook it off and headed toward the building. Power-walked, really.

Inside, the office's AC nearly slapped me. Cold. Clinical. Just like the vibe I gave to Tricia, my supervisor, every time she tried her tricks.

But not today.

No sooner than I passed reception, she emerged-heels clicking like warning shots, blouse low, perfume thick.

"Good morning, Amir," she said, eyes doing that up-and-down thing they always did.

"Morning, Tricia," I replied, eyes dead ahead.

"Big party tonight, Wuk Up & Wine. Yuh wearing that mesh top again?" she teased, stepping a little too close.

I exhaled slowly, fixing my collar. "I'm trying to make it through the day without HR paperwork, Tricia. Mi ah beg yuh."

She pouted. "Always so uptight. Go know you need fi loosen up."

I gave her a look. Not rude. Just final. "Mi uptight, but mi peaceful."

She laughed like it was cute. It wasn't.

By 10:30 a.m., I was deep in spreadsheets. Numbers weren't adding up, the client portal was down, and my coworkers were sending Carnival memes like they weren't all on deadlines.

I sighed, checked my phone. One message from Jordan:

"If you wear a full shirt tonight, mi a cut you off."

I smirked. Typical Jordan.

By lunchtime, I was done. I strolled into the staff lunchroom with my meal-prepped container-curry chicken back, callaloo, and quinoa. Sat in the corner, cracked open Wattpad on my phone, and resumed reading:

"Tangled in Temptation."

I was deep into the scene-Caribbean lawyer and wild pastry chef almost kissing in the rain-when Jordan stormed in, full of energy.

"Amir. Big man. You reading them soft-core love stories again?"

I didn't even look up. "Is not soft-core. Is character development."

Jordan laughed, popping open a bottle of Pepsi. "Big accountant like you, still reading Wattpad at yuh big age?"

I smiled, lowkey. "It's well written. And mi rather read about love than tolerate Tricia's lunchtime stares."

Jordan leaned against the counter. "Yuh know what you need? A woman who write love stories about you."

I chuckled. "Maybe I need a woman who knows how to live one." My phone vibrated twice in my lap. Kingston line. Not good. I silenced it, slipped it back into my pocket, and forced a small smile. "You know me, Jordan. All fiction."

We clinked drinks-Pepsi for Jordan, bottled water for me.

Back at my desk, I glanced at the time. Just a few more hours 'til Wuk Up & Wine. A few more hours until the night stretched wide open with promise.

I didn't know why, but something in my chest stirred.

Tonight didn't feel like just another party.