Page 34

AVERI

I woke up with the fabric of his hoodie clutched in my fists, curled so deep into it like I could disappear inside the memory of him.

As soon as I got home earlier, I immediately showered, washing away the smell of weed and regrets.

But even after changing into a pair of shorts and a tank top, I threw his hoodie on wanting to envelop myself in his smell, to feel like I was still resting in his arms.

The sunlight peeked through the blackout curtains of my bedroom, soft and indifferent to the chaos going on inside of me.

I pulled the hoodie tighter around me — oversized, worn-in, black with a faded Nipsey Hussle logo on the front — the same one Royal had once claimed I "stole," even though he’d never actually asked for it back.

Last night was supposed to be harmless. A blunt.

Some drinks. Old chemistry. But we were never good at pretending things were simple.

I’d told myself I was strong for leaving his house before sunrise.

That slipping out while he slept was me protecting my peace.

That not waking up next to him meant I still had control over my emotions.

But truthfully? I didn’t sleep at all. I tossed and turned, fighting the ghost of his touch and the warmth of his skin wrapped around me.

His voice. The way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

I would be a damn liar if I said I didn’t still love him.

The problem was… I didn’t trust him not to break me again.

My phone rang, cutting through the silence. I groaned when I saw Egypt’s name flash across the screen. “Girl, why are you calling me this early?” I asked, clearing my throat.

“It’s noon.”

I sat up straighter, rubbing my eyes. “Oh.”

“You sound like shit. You, okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Lie again.”

I sighed, swinging my legs over the bed. “I said I’m fine.”

“Where’d you sleep last night?”

I hesitated. “Here.”

“Girl why is you lying?”

“Egypt…”

“That’s what I thought.” Her tone shifted — softer now. “Ave, I know you're trying to protect yourself. I do. But you can't keep running from how you feel and think you're gonna come out of this okay.”

“I’m not running,” I muttered, even though I knew I was. “I’m walking away. There’s a difference.”

She didn’t press further. Just hummed. “If you say so.”

“It didn’t take yo ass long to spread them legs though.” She laughed and I couldn’t even stop the chuckle from escaping.

“It was worth it too.”

After we hung up, I tried to distract myself by diving into a beat I’d started weeks ago.

The bass was loud, all minor chords and dark undertones — the kind of track that made you want to pour your heart out.

But every time I added something new; my head went somewhere else.

Back to his hands on my waist. Back to his mouth on my neck.

Back to the way he whispered my name like it was a secret only he had the right to say.

I was useless.

Frustrated, I slid my headphones off and walked toward the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. I froze because nobody just popped up at my place. The knock persisted, hard and confident. Like somebody who knew they were gonna be let in.

At first, I ignored it. Was gonna let whoever it was, knock on this damn door till they got tired and walked away. I wasn’t in the mood for conversation or confrontation. But then came another knock. Louder. Followed by the bell.

I tiptoed across the hardwood floors, peeked through the peephole.

.. and my breath caught. And there looking as fine and delicious as he wanted to be, stood Royal.

He was dressed in black sweats and a white tee with slides on; holding my favorite strawberry-pineapple refresher from Starbucks.

His hoodie clung to his arms like the sleeves were pissed off they had to let go of me early this morning. So, I opened the door.

For a second, I didn’t move. Just stood there, blinking, wondering if I was hallucinating but I knew I wasn’t.

I could smell that Dior cologne, stared into my favorite pair of brown eyes then my lips traveled to his soft lips just recently having felt them.

He was not a hallucination. He was not a mirage.

He was standing right in front of me clear as day.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. I wanted to add, more importantly, who gave you my address but I kept that part to myself.

One thing I knew for sure about Royal was that he had a terrible sense of direction so there was no way he remembered where I stayed from the last time, he’d been here months ago.

“Don’t play with me, Averi.” He pushed past me before I could protest, stepping into my condo like he lived there. “Zay said he caught you sneaking out this morning. I woke up, bed empty. Why the fuck you keep running from me?”

I slammed the door shut; arms crossed. annoyed that he was in my space without invitation. “I’m not running.”

“You left my crib in the middle of the night then blocked me…again. What the fuck was the purpose, Shawty?”

I blinked. “You make it sound like I committed a felony.”

“You kinda did.” He dropped the cup holder on the counter. “You robbed me of a conversation we clearly need to have.”

“I thought we already had it.”

“You thought wrong.”

We stared at each other in silence. My pulse was quick, and my hoodie—his hoodie—felt too warm suddenly, like it was betraying me just by still smelling like him.

It was the reason I’d taken it with me this morning, as I did in fact sneak out.

It was also the reason why I slipped it on as soon as I showered and put on a change of clothes, enveloping myself in his scent.

His eyes locked with mine, sharp and dark, cutting straight through the bullshit I kept trying to feed myself then he stepped closer.

“I’m not doin’ this back and forth, no more Averi. Either you want me, or you don’t. But I’m not gon’ keep playin’ these games with you. You want me—act like it. If you don’t… tell me so I can move the fuck on.”

His words punched the air out of my chest.

“I—” But I couldn’t get the rest out, because he was right. I didn’t want him to move on. I didn’t want this to be over. So why couldn’t I just say that?

Instead, I stood there, lips parted, eyes hot, fighting a war between my pride and my heart.

“Say something,” he murmured, softer now.

He was vulnerable, nearly broken in front of me.

Long gone was the hood nigga Royal, the one that was hella disrespectful, the one that didn’t like nobody outside his circle.

He was softer, pleading, so far open it made my heart hurt.

I wanted to comfort him, protect his feelings even if it meant I had to protect them from me.

I stepped into him and let my fingers tangle in his shirt pulling him down to me. And my mouth found his. The kiss was soft, tender, loving. It was everything I’d been trying to pretend I didn’t want since the last time he touched me. My body curved into his like muscle memory, like instinct.

It wasn’t long before clothes started being peeled away.

There were soft gasps, low groans, skin on skin.

And before I knew it, I was under him, back arched, mouth open, breathing his name like a prayer.

This was softer than last night, way more intimate.

There was love in this, real fuckin’ love.

I felt the love in the way he carefully handled me, gently grazing his finger along my skin.

I felt it in the way his lips gently trailed kisses from my lips down my neck, over every inch of my body.

It's not like I hadn’t felt this before, I had in fact, quite a few times.

It was the same feelings I experienced the first time I knew I was in love with him.

Royal made love to me, made me feel like I was precious cargo; not one, not twice but three times throughout the day.

He didn’t leave. We stayed in bed for the rest of the day, both of us ignoring calls, only leaving to go to the bathroom, get water or food.

If we weren’t wrapped in each other, we were laughing, joking, catching up on our lives while we’d been apart.

He told me he wanted to reach out when Princess told him the show wouldn’t be continuing past this season, it had gotten officially announced to the world a week after our meeting even though Lipstick Confidential announced it the same damn day; but he wasn’t ready still very much grieving King’s loss.

We talked about King, reminiscing on the times we both had with him.

I learned so much more about King from before I’d come into their lives.

And I shared some moments King and I had in the studio when he and Zay went on food runs, where King told me how happy he was I was there to help Royal.

How proud he was of Royal and thinking back on it how much those conversations increased around the time Royal and I were too scared to act on our feelings.

I held Royal while he cried and admitted he was still trying to process his grief. I cried with him, consoling him in his grief hoping to shield him. That night, we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

After that night, something shifted. We never said it out loud, but we both fell into this rhythm that neither of us dared define. I guess you could call it… friends with benefits . Except I didn’t feel like his friend half the time. And the benefits came with strings I pretended didn’t exist.

Some nights, he’d pull up to my place with food and a blunt, and we’d eat on the couch while watching whatever was trending. Other nights, I’d sneak over to his rental in the Hills after long studio sessions just to feel his arms wrapped around me.