My.
Heart.
Stopped.
Beating.
“And on that note,” Asher smirked, a trace of vulnerability in his expression. “I’ll see myself out. Until tomorrow, Mya Hernandez.”
I watched as Asher walked away trying to figure out what I felt most confused about: that Asher had called me beautiful, or that his parting words had sounded a lot like a promise.
An hour later, I was busy at the stove when the front door rattled. “Mya?” My aunt’s voice drifted down the hall.
“In the kitchen,” I called back, stirring the pan of tomato sauce.
“Ooh, something smells good.”
“It’s just spaghetti.” Glancing back, I smiled. “How was your day?”
“My feet are ten degrees hotter than hell, but I’ll live. Did you throw in some of those chilies I like?”
“Yep.”
“Good girl. I taught you well.”
Making her extra hot tomato sauce was one of the first things Aunt Ciara taught me when I’d arrived. Everything about my aunt from her five-three stature to her petite frame and sparkling eyes screamed sweet. But Ciara Hernandez liked her food hot. Eyes burning, mouth-watering, get-the-fire-hose hot.
“I saw Mrs. Clements. She said you had a visitor.”
My spine stiffened at the disapproval in her voice. “A friend gave me a ride home, yeah.”
“And did this friend also come inside the house?”
“Aunt C, I’m eighteen.” I kept my cool, offering her a placating smile. “I didn’t think it would be a problem.”
“She also said she thought he was a football player.” Her brow lifted, voice drenched in accusation.
“Asher plays for the team, yes.”
“Mya, girl, don’t be telling me you brought that Bennet boy into my house.”
“He’s just a friend.”
“Yeah, and it was your friendship with Jermaine that landed you here. Do you really want to go—”
“That’s not fair,” I said, quietly feeling the weight of her words settle heavy on my chest.
She clucked her tongue. “Those Raiders are bad news. Walk around this town like they own the damn place. Get away with murder too. I’m not sure I like the idea of you taking up with one of them.”
“I’m not taking up with anyone. There was a storm. He offered me a ride home and it seemed rude to just send him on his way, so I invited him in. It isn’t a big deal.”
Aunt Ciara’s expression softened as she looked to the ceiling, no doubt silently asking the Lord for guidance. When she settled her big eyes back on me, she said, “I know how hard this is for you, Mya. I’ve been there, remember? I’ve walked the path you walk now, except I had no one to turn to or guide me right. You’re here to finish senior year, to get your diploma, and get into a good school. To put your life in Fallowfield Heights behind you. You are such a bright young girl, and you have such a bright future ahead of you, but you have to stay on course.”
“It was just a ride home, Auntie.”
“A ride home with a white athlete who thinks he can take what he wants when he wants without consequence.”
“Auntie, that’s not—”