Queen Move

“She’s what?” Mona’s eyes widen and her mouth hangs open. “Aiko?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” I groan, not drunk enough for a hangover, but just drunk enough to make a fool of myself and put everyone’s business in the streets.

“But ya did, so go on. Explain.”

“You and Ezra are friends. He’ll tell you when the time is right.”

“The time is right now, honey. You opened this can of worms. Don’t try to go shoving them back in now.”

I sigh and pluck at the frothy, shimmery layers of my skirt. “She asked for an open relationship. Ezra didn’t want it, said things weren’t getting better, and they’ve decided to break it off.”

“Aiko asked for an open relationship?” Mona’s face is skeptical. “Homegirl gets jealous, green as a butter bean over Ezra. I can’t imagine her being okay with him…are you sure?”

“Well, that’s what he told me. He says he wanted to make a clean break because they’ve been having trouble for a while.”

I sit up enough to glance at her over my shoulder. “Is that true?”

“I mean, I know they were seeing a counselor, but I assumed it was just them being smart, proactive. Keeping the lines of communication open.”

“Oh, they’re open all right,” I say dryly. “According to him, they’re over.”

“So Ezra told you this and you two kissed?”

I clear my throat. “Twice.”

“And did you do more than kiss?”

I love Mona, but I’m not getting into the details of Ezra’s fingers inside me, his mouth hot and suckling at my breast. In my mind’s eye, there’s an aerial shot of Ezra and me on that trampoline, breathing hard, turned into each other, unable to look away in the moonlight, intimacy curling deliciously between our bodies.

“Just kissed, but he wants more.” I meet her eyes across the room. “So do I.”

“Look, I’m not that chick who tells a grown-ass woman where to get the dick or how to run her life,” she says, “but I wouldn’t be your friend

if I didn’t say this. They are a family. Aiko is not just some girl he found on Tinder and then decided it’s quits. He hasn’t been with anyone but her for ten years, and they have a son together. Things happened fast and things just happened. It ain’t over ’til it’s over, and if anyone gets hurt when things go south, it’ll be you.”

And I cannot afford to be hurt, not with everything already on my plate.

The kitchen door opens and heavy footsteps approach the living room. I’m on high alert, but Mona looks pretty calm about it.

“Well, here we go,” she says resignedly.

“It’s just me,” Ezra yells from the doorway.

The sight of him standing at the entrance to Mona’s living room sends shock spearing through me. He looks goooooood. His broad shoulders fill the doorway, and the dark jeans and YLA T-shirt show off the lean muscles in his arms and legs. His hair has grown just a little, long enough to curl the slightest bit, and my fingers pulse with the need to scrape across his scalp and burrow into the soft pelt of it. A little scruff shadows his sharply drawn jawline. He’s sun-bronzed, contrasting with the white flash of his smile.

A smile that evaporates when he sees me.

“Tru, I didn’t know you were here.” He clears his throat. “Sorry to barge in, Mo.”

“Like you don’t bust up in here every damn day unannounced,” she says. “One day, you gonna get an eyeful.”

She walks over and gives him a hug. He watches me over her shoulder, his eyes running along my bare legs, still flung over the couch. My instinct is to sit up, cover myself, preserve some modesty.

But I don’t.

My other instinct is to make him want me the way I want him. The heat of his stare is addictive. His eyes caress my bare shoulders and legs, and despite the warm summer night, my body is covered in goose bumps.

“You’re back early.” My voice comes out husky, breathless.