“I suppose. But do you care to explain why you’re in here?”
“Nothing to explain. I’m… I just needed to…um.” Dammit, she was fully blanking on an excuse that would make any kind of sense. Fucking Devon and his sexy ass self, making her brain fuzzy.
Cherisse laughed. “Right, so is this what we’re really doing? Are the three of us really about to get into this King business? I cannot believe this.”
“Whoa, hold on. I’m not getting into anything like that. Not the way you’re thinking.” She and Devon were having sex, sure, but this other stuff Cherisse was saying was not it.
“So you weren’t in here fooling around with Devon, is what you’re telling me?”
Reba sighed in defeat. She’d put up a good fight, hadn’t she? “Okay, look, I didn’t say that, but you’re implying this is a situation similar to you and Remi. It’s not. Nobody’s trying to get boo’d up here. It’s all about the fun.”
“Hmm, where have I heard this before? Oh yeah, right, from myself.”
“Cherry, come on. I tried that relationship shit, wasn’t for me. And Devon surely don’t want me like that.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, I do. He has a plan for his perfect partner, and I’m pretty sure I’m not it.”
“And how do you feel about that supposed plan?”
She shrugged. “I think it’s silly to have a plan like that at all in general. But it doesn’t matter to me personally. I’ve got no real stake in this. It’s sexy fun.”
“Hmm,” Cherisse said again. “Alright, missy.”
“You don’t think a man like Devon would want to change me too? Look, I get it. You’re in love and all that jazz, so you want that for everybody, but I’m good, thanks. Go make your call. I’m heading back out.”
She headed straight for the drinks table. Wine sounded great after that mini-interrogation. Why did everyone think she and Devon could be something? Should be something?
It was a party. She didn’t want to have serious thoughts about anything except what fun the end of the night would hold for her and Devon. But as she downed one glass of wine way too quickly and got another refill, she looked around until she saw him at a table with his family. He was standing as if trying to make an excuse to leave and go hide out in his room, but his mother’s constant chatter didn’t give him the right moment.
He looked around as if plotting his escape, and they locked eyes. Even from here, she could tell he definitely wanted her to save him. She was about to do just that when Dax stepped in front of her, blocking Devon from her view.
“Hello again.”
“Oh, hey.”
“How’s our boy doing with the baking?”
“Did you have any of the dessert yet?” she asked him instead.
Devon had chosen to try brownies tonight. The cutters had already been passed around, and guests were happily munching on geera chicken, meatballs, and samosas—both veggie and chicken. Ms. King hadn’t been so sure about putting out the dessert so early since she had her system—appetisers, then the main dish, followed by dessert and corn soup later in the night to sober up anyone who needed it—but Reba had convinced her to switch it up a bit and have some of the brownies out early.
She couldn’t get accurate feedback too late in the night when the guests were too tipsy to care if the brownies tasted good or not. Anything would taste amazing after a few drinks. The tray currently held crumbs. Devon’s dessert was a hit.
“I swiped one before it was all gone. Was surprised it was out so early.”
“Then I believe you answered your own question.” She smiled as his eyes grew wide.
“He made those?”
“Yup.”
“Without help?”
“What sort of teacher would I be if I didn’t let my student soar on his own? I think you’ll love his entry for the contest.” She winked.
“Care to share a hint?”