Chapter 6

An hour later, the vibe had finally settled. The music was still thumping, drinks were still pouring, and the weed smoke in the air was thick as ever. But that weird ass energy from earlier? It was still lingering—just quieter now.

Lena was stretched out on the couch, sipping on her drink, feeling real good. Not drunk, not high out her mind, just that perfect buzz.

Von, as usual, was keeping to himself, laid back in his chair with his phone in his hand. But Lena knew he wasn't really on it. He was watching—he was always watching.

Cinco, on the other hand? He had been on her ass ever since that whole scene with Von's ex.

"Lena," he called, sliding onto the couch next to her, "you really be actin' like you too good to hold a real convo wit' a nigga."

Lena smirked, side-eyeing him. "How?"

"You just be sittin' there, lookin' all cute 'n shit, actin' like you don't know niggas tryna talk to you."

Lena took a slow sip from her cup before responding. "Ain't nobody actin' like nothing. You just mad I ain't fall for that lil' slick shit you be talkin'."

Cinco grinned, flashing his golds. "You sure you ain't fall for it? 'Cause I feel like I'm gettin' somewhere."

Lena chuckled, shaking her head. He was funny as hell, she'd give him that.

But her eyes flicked to Von, just for a second.

And she caught it.

That slight tension in his jaw. The way he wasn't looking, but he was listening.

Interesting.

Cinco leaned in a little. "I like you, though. You different."

"Different how?"

He studied her for a second, then shrugged. "I'on know yet. But I'ma figure it out."

Lena raised a brow. "You think so?"

"I know so."

Lena just hummed, sipping her drink again. She wasn't gon' lie—she liked Cinco's energy. He was funny, a good time, and smooth with his words.

But Von?

That nigga ain't have to say a single word to keep her attention.

And that was the problem.