Page 18 of Blake University: HBCU Chronicles – Yon & Imole

The music wrapped around them, bass heavy and smooth, as swayed with Imole like she was the only thing keeping him grounded in a house full of chaos. She moved with him, soft and confident, her hands on his shoulders, eyes locked on his. He could feel the heat from her skin, the curve of her waist under his palm, the subtle catch in her breath every time their bodies brushed a little too close. Damn near hypnotic.

For a minute, the world disappeared. The loud music, the flashing lights, the drunk shouting, it all blurred into the background. But he wasn’t about to lose the moment. He leaned in, mouth close to her ear.

“Come upstairs with me.”

Imole hesitated, but her eyes said yes before her lips did.

He glanced around, found Lala and Stormii grinding with Ace and Porkchop. Of course. His boys moved quickly.

“Aye,”

called, lifting a hand.

“We gon’ be upstairs.”

Lala looked over, caught the message, and gave Imole a quick nod of approval.

“Use protection!”

Stormii yelled, laughing into her drink.

chuckled, took Imole’s hand, and started toward the stairs. The party was packed, the hall a blur of shoulder brushes and shoutouts as they made their way through. His room was just past the hall bathroom, top of the stairs, second door on the left.

But halfway there, trouble.

“Wow. You couldn’t even say hi?”

Shawna.

Posted up by the wall in one of her curve-hugging dresses, arms crossed and attitude loud.

exhaled hard.

“Not now, Shawna.”

“Seriously? You brought her here?”

Her eyes cut to Imole, sharp enough to slice.

Imole didn’t shrink. She just looked at Shawna like she was background noise—low volume, unimportant.

Shawna stepped forward.

“So, you replacing me with some random?”

“Don’t do this,”

warned, jaw tight.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.”

He stepped in close, lowering his voice.

“This is not the time or the place. You had your chance. It’s over. Don’t make a scene.”

Shawna’s face twisted with something ugly, but didn’t wait for a reply. He turned, kept hold of Imole’s hand, and pushed past her like she was a locked door he’d already broken through.

Up the stairs. Down the hall. Heart racing not because of Shawna, but from Imole still following him, still holding on. She handled herself in a manner that told she was mature, confident and in control. Non-confrontational, unlike Shawna. It was sexy the way she allowed him to handle the situation.

He opened his door and pulled her in, shutting out the noise behind them.

Finally.

Just them. And the tension between them, thick as ever.

“You okay?”

he asked, eyes scanning hers.

Imole nodded slowly.

“I am now.”

smiled and this time, it wasn’t cocky.

He didn’t need more.

stepped closer, lifted her chin gently with two fingers, and kissed her, long, slow and deliberate. The kind of kiss that said I see you. I want you. I’ve been thinking about this all damn day.

Her lips were soft, warm, and she didn’t pull away. She leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his neck like she’d been waiting for this moment just as much. When he finally pulled back, barely an inch, he kept his forehead pressed to hers.

“I’ve been tryin’ to play it cool,”

he murmured, his thumb tracing her jaw, “but you got me messed up, Imole.”

She smiled. It was small, sweet, and dangerous.

“Good,”

she whispered.

“Now you know how I feel.”