Nic cocked her brow. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I muttered, flipping open a menu like I ain’t already know I was getting the shrimp po’ boy.
Kasha leaned back. “I’m guessing that energy got Kilo’s name on it?”
My silence was enough.
Nic shook her head. “I knew something was off. You walk like you got a cinder block on your chest.”
Sophi slid her mocktail across the table. “It’s cranberry and ginger. Safe for the baby, still strong enough to calm your nerves. Go ’head.” Sophi tilted her head toward the drink, and I took a sip.
“He came over the other day to talk to Jackson. You could tell he was stressed.”
Nic snorted. “I asked Buck what was up. That fool told me to stay in my lane before I end up in a ditch.”
I smirked because that sounded like his ignorant ass.
“He won’t even look at me the same,” I finally said. “Like I’m there, but not really. Like he’s holding something and tryna act like it doesn’t show.”
Sophi rubbed my arm. “He’s still showing up, though. That says something.”
“Or he doesn’t wanna deal with the consequences of not showing up,” I replied. “Either way, it doesn’t feel good.”
“What you wanna do?” Kasha asked gently.
“I'on know. I’m tired of guessing. And I’m tired of tiptoeing.”
Nic tilted her head. “So stop and press his ass.”
Sophi’s voice came soft. “Y’all solid. But even solid can crack if nobody talks.”
I let out a shaky breath, rubbing the spot above my belly button.
My phone buzzed.
Kilo: You good?
I stared at it, thumb hovering.
Yeah. With the girls.
My response was short and cold, just like he’s been lately.
We wrapped lunch soon after and I headed home, changed into one of his old tees, and curled up in bed. I was tired as hell and needed a nap.
When I woke up, the sun had set, and the night had fallen. I rolled out of bed and went downstairs.
Kilo was on the couch, hood up, scrolling his phone. He didn’t even flinch when I walked in.
I stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching him for a second.
“You home.”
“Yeah.”
“How long you been here?”
“About an hour.”
