12.

─── ⋆⋅·𖥸·⋅⋆ ─ ⋆⋅·𖥸·⋅⋆ ─⋆⋅·𖥸·⋅⋆ ───

I was posted up against the wall, arms crossed, weight shifted to one side, just listening.

Yanna's music was bleeding through the walls, some smooth R&B with a bass that vibrated through the hall. She was taking her time. Probably pouting the whole time she got dressed, hating the fact that she had to go entertain that lame-ass man.

I smirked to myself, shaking my head.

That girl was so damn spoiled.

About thirty minutes passed before her door finally swung open.

And when I saw her?

I damn near lost composure.

Denim skirt. Short. A white cropped tank, exposing just enough of that soft brown skin to make my mouth run dry. A cropped jean jacket to match, like she knew the weather would turn later. And on her feet? Some sandals, her toes painted white.

Simple. But Goddamn.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

She met my eyes, her expression unreadable, before she crooked her finger at me, motioning for me to follow.

I had half a mind to grab that wrist and yank her right back inside.

But I didn't.

Instead, I stepped closer, lowering my head, lips brushing the shell of her ear as I muttered, "Ask me next time."

She shivered.

I felt it. Saw the way her fingers twitched, how she bit her lip to keep from reacting too much. But the small smile that crept onto her lips?

Yeah. That was all the confirmation I needed.

She didn't say a word, just turned and walked toward Wyatt's car, hips swaying like she knew I was watching.

And I was.

She slid into the passenger seat, Wyatt barely even acknowledging her before pulling off.

I clenched my jaw.

Without another thought, I pushed off the wall and headed straight for the security truck.

I climbed into the driver's seat, started the engine, and pulled off, keeping a steady distance behind them.

Trailing.

Watching.

Because Wyatt?

That corny motherfucker?

He didn't deserve her.

Not even a little bit.

I kept my grip tight on the wheel, keeping a steady pace behind Wyatt's car. My eyes flicked between his bum ass license plate and Yanna's curly head of hair visible through the window. I had no idea what this lunch was about, but I knew one thing—I didn't trust that man for shit.

Just as I was about to adjust my rearview, my phone started vibrating against my thigh. I snatched it up, seeing Zuri's name flashing across the screen.

I answered immediately. "What's up, Zu?"

All I got back was sniffling. Shaky breathing.

And then—"Ren... mommy's going crazy."

I gripped the wheel tighter.

"The fuck you mean?" My voice dropped lower, my whole body going tense.

"She—she smashed the family picture in the hallway," Zuri stammered, still crying. "She's just screaming and throwing shit, Ren. I—I don't know what to do."

I sighed through my nose, already reaching for my Cash App. This shit was not new.

"Listen to me," I said, my voice firm but steady. "You're gonna take this money and call an Uber. Go to your friend's house, alright?"

Zuri hesitated, and I knew she was probably wiping her face, trying to pull herself together.

"Okay," she finally whispered.

"Don't pack shit, just go," I instructed. "I'll deal with Mom. You just get the fuck outta there, you hear me?"

She exhaled, like the weight of the world was finally off her chest.

"I hear you."

"Good."

I waited until I saw the transfer complete before hanging up and immediately dialing Mom.

She picked up on the first ring.

"WHAT?!" she screeched.

I rolled my eyes, already over it. "Calm the fuck down."

"EXCUSE ME?" she yelled even louder, her voice shrill enough to make my temple throb. "I'M YOUR MOTHER. YOU NEED TO SHOW SOME RESPECT!"

I hung up in her face.

I was not doing this today.

I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat, breathing through the tension in my chest. Same shit, different day.

By the time I pulled up to the restaurant, I spotted Wyatt's car already parked. Yanna was stepping out, all legs and attitude, not even sparing Wyatt a glance as he walked ahead of her like the inconsiderate prick he was.

I shook my head.

Took a deep breath.

Then stepped out of the truck.

Because I was on duty.

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, my eyes subtly shifting between my phone and the restaurant entrance. Zuri's location pinged, showing she made it safely to her friend's house.

I exhaled, relieved, before typing out a quick text:

"Love you, monkey."

It took her all of five seconds to respond:

"Stop calling me that. Love you too."

I smirked a little before locking my phone and tucking it away.

Now, back to business.

My eyes scanned the area—checking every car, every person walking past, making sure there was no threat. But my gaze kept pulling back to Yanna.

She sat across from Wyatt at their outdoor table, her long legs crossed, one hand lazily playing with the condensation on her water glass. She looked bored. Unbothered. Like she'd rather be anywhere else.

And I couldn't lie—she looked good as fuck.

The little denim skirt she had on, paired with that cropped tank and jacket combo, was giving me problems. My jaw clenched as I took in her smooth-ass thighs, the way her gold anklet gleamed under the sun, and that smug little smirk she had on like she knew what she was doing.

She was a menace.

And when she turned her head ever so slightly in my direction, catching me watching her, she made sure I knew it.

That's when she did it.

With that same little smirk, she lifted her hand, subtly blowing me a kiss.

I looked away instantly.

Because, nah.

Not here. Not on duty. Not in front of him.

But, of course, Wyatt saw that shit.

I could feel it—his eyes burning into the side of my face. When I glanced back, he was staring dead at me, his jaw tight, his fingers curling around his fork like he was rethinking his life choices.

For a second, I thought he was gonna say something.

But instead, he just turned back to Yanna and went back to bitching.

And I mean bitching.

I couldn't hear all of it, but from the way he was leaning in, his mouth moving a little too fast, his face twisted up like he had a personal vendetta against whatever the fuck she just said—it wasn't good.

And Yanna?

She just sat there, cool as ever, rolling her eyes, sipping her drink, acting like he wasn't damn near foaming at the mouth.

I shook my head, looking away.

Because if I watched too long?

I was gonna have to step in.

I heard his voice from where I was standing.

Too loud.

Too damn loud for a public setting, the way people started glancing over, picking up on the tension at their table.

I didn't like that.

Didn't like that Yanna had to sit there, shoulders drawn in, head slightly down, listening to this dude run his mouth like she owed him patience.

She wasn't smirking this time.

Wasn't throwing some slick comment back at him.

She just sat there, nodding slightly, biting at her bottom lip like she was trying not to shrink.

That shit didn't sit right with me.

So, I moved.

Steady strides, slow and deliberate, until I was standing right at their table.

Wyatt saw me immediately, his expression tightening like I was intruding on something important.

Like I wasn't supposed to be there.

I ignored him, eyes on Yanna instead.

"Get up."

She blinked, startled, like she wasn't expecting me to say shit.

She glanced at Wyatt, then back at me, hesitation flickering across her face before she let out a small sigh and reached for her purse.

"Yeah," she muttered, standing up slowly. "Okay."

Wyatt scoffed, leaning back. "Seriously?"

I still wasn't looking at him.

But Yanna was.

And the way her shoulders stiffened, the way she exhaled a little too hard, told me he was pushing it.

"You're just gonna leave in the middle of a conversation?" Wyatt's voice dipped, sharper now.

I stepped slightly in front of her, tilting my head. "You got a problem, playboy?"

His eyes flickered up to mine, something flashing across them—annoyance, maybe? A challenge?

Then he sighed through his nose, rolling his eyes. "Ugh, whatever." He waved a hand. "Take her, then."

Like she was a fucking object.

Yanna turned away first, walking toward the exit, and I followed, my hand lightly grazing her lower back.

Once we were outside, away from the weight of that damn conversation, she let out a shaky breath, pressing a hand to her forehead.

"Fuck, Ren." Her voice was quieter than usual. "I don't even know why I came."

I didn't say anything at first, just opened the truck door for her.

She climbed in, movements slower than usual, no teasing smile, no playful glance back.

I shut the door, jaw tightening slightly.

She wasn't herself today.

And that?

That made me hate Wyatt even more.

The ride back was quiet.

Too quiet.

Yanna didn't hum along to the music, didn't throw out any slick comments, didn't even look my way.

Just sat there, scrolling through her phone with her nails tapping softly against the screen, her leg bouncing the whole ride.

And when we pulled up to the house?

She didn't say a word—just got out, walked inside, and disappeared into her room.

I waited a few minutes, debating.

She was a lotta things, but sad?

Sad wasn't one of them.

So when I finally stepped inside her room, I expected to see her laid out on her bed, already over it.

Instead, I found her sitting on the edge of her bed, eyes glossy, lips pressed together tight.

First time I ever saw her like that.

And I didn't fucking like it.

I sat next to her, the mattress sinking slightly.

She immediately wiped her eyes, straightened up, and forced a smile like I wasn't about to call her ass out.

"You gon' actually relax for once?" she asked, tilting her head, trying to flip it back on me.

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. "No."

Her smile widened just a little—real this time.

She shifted closer, looking at me, her fingers toying with the hem of my sleeve like she wanted to say something.

And then she did.

"Can I have a kiss?"

I blinked, looking down at her.

She held my gaze, her lips slightly pouted, her eyes soft.

"Please?"

That shit got me.

I sighed, tilting her chin up slightly before pressing my lips against hers.

Soft at first.

But Yanna?

She wasn't taking just that.

She deepened the kiss, her hands gripping my shirt, pulling me forward until I was on top of her, her back pressing into the mattress.

And I let her.

Didn't break it.

Didn't pull back.

Just let myself sink into her, my hands trailing down to her waist as she kissed me like she'd been waiting.

She wrapped her legs around me, locking me in place, and I felt a rush of heat shoot through my body at the way she held me there, keeping me close like she wasn't trying to let go anytime soon.

My hand pressed into the mattress beside her head, keeping myself balanced, while my other hand slid down to her waist, fingers gripping her gently as I kissed her deeper.

Her tongue moved against mine, fighting for dominance.

But she wasn't winning this.

I took control, tilting her head slightly, making her melt further into the kiss.

Her hands roamed up under my shirt, fingertips trailing over my stomach, my ribs, my back—and just as she started to rake her nails down my skin, I grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.

She let out a small, breathless laugh, smiling up at me, her lips kiss-swollen as she looked at me with those fucking eyes.

I knew that look.

That mischief.

That challenge.

She leaned up slightly, pressing soft, slow kisses along my jaw, right against the spot she must've known would get me.

And when I let out a low, throaty "Fuck", her smile deepened against my skin.

But before either of us could go further, her phone rang, vibrating between us.

She groaned, whining into my neck, clearly annoyed, before reaching over to grab it.

I glanced at the screen and saw the name—Rina.

Facetiming.

Yanna sighed, still looking at me, lips parted slightly like she was debating ignoring it, but after a moment, she accepted the call.

That was my cue.

I slipped out of her grip, standing up, straightening my shirt as I stepped away from the bed.

Even as I left, I could still feel the heat of her on my skin, the way her body had pressed against mine, the way her lips felt against my jaw.

I didn't look back.

Didn't dare to.

Just went back to my post, leaning against the wall, breathing deeper than I should've been.

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, trying to shake the feeling still lingering on my skin. The ghost of Yanna's lips on my jaw, the way she felt under me, the way she looked up at me like I was the only thing she wanted in that moment—all of it was replaying in my mind like a song I couldn't turn off.

Through the closed door, I could hear her and Rina squealing like high schoolers, their voices muffled but still full of energy.

I shook my head, laughing quietly to myself.

She was something else.

I pulled my phone out, staring at the screen for a moment before typing out a message to Bari.

Me: I'm in trouble.

I knew he'd catch the weight of those words immediately.

A few seconds later, my phone vibrated.

Bari: What the hell did you do?

I exhaled through my nose, running a hand down my face.

Me: She got me fucked up.

There was a long pause before he finally responded.

Bari: You mean that in a bad way or a good way?

I didn't even know how to answer that.

Because it was both.

And that was the fucking problem.

I sighed, rubbing my temple before typing out a response.

Me: Nigga, I'm about to quit before I get caught up.

I could already see Bari's face through the phone, that mix of amusement and disappointment like I was acting real dumb right now. My phone vibrated almost instantly.

Bari: You deadass? You better relax before you start talking crazy for real.

I leaned my head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

Me: I'm serious, man. This girl is a problem.

Bari: Nah, YOU the problem. You ain't built for no "falling for the client" type shit. You been in the game too long to start acting brand new.

I rolled my eyes, about to type something back when another text came through.

Bari: Besides, who paying them two rents if you quit? The landlord sure as hell ain't giving you a discount for catching feelings.

I sucked my teeth, shaking my head. This nigga always knew where to hit.

Me: STFU.

Bari: LMAO nah, you need to STFU and get out your feelings.

I stared at the phone for a second before locking it and shoving it back in my pocket. He wasn't wrong. But that didn't mean I wanted to hear it.

I exhaled deeply, pressing my back against the wall and running a hand down my face. Yanna was inside, probably still on the phone with Rina, laughing and talking like nothing happened. Meanwhile, I was outside trying to get my head on straight.

Bari was right. I had too much to lose.

I needed to lock in. Before this girl really fucked up my whole setup.

Yanna opened the door and motioned for me to come inside, her eyes gleaming with something playful, something knowing. I raised an eyebrow, hesitating for a second. I knew better. I knew this girl was nothing but trouble for me, but the way she looked at me? Like she already knew I was gonna give in?

Yeah. I was in trouble.

"Come in," she said, voice smooth, confident, like she wasn't the one setting me up for failure.

I sighed, shaking my head at myself as I stepped inside, barely getting two feet in before she shut the door behind me and shoved me—actually shoved me—onto the chair. Normally, I wouldn't have even budged, but she caught me off guard, and I landed with a small grunt, blinking up at her.

And just like that, she was on me.

Her body pressed against mine, straddling me, hands in my hair, her lips on mine before I could even think to stop her.

I should have stopped her.

We had just talked about this.

I told myself it couldn't happen again.

And yet.

My hands moved on their own, one gripping her waist, the other cupping her jaw, tilting her head just enough to deepen the kiss. My pulse was pounding in my ears, my chest tight with something I hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Not since Myah.

And that should've been the moment I pulled away. Should've been my sign that this was going too far, too fast.

But Yanna?

She looked at me with that damn fire in her eyes, like she knew she had me, like she had already won.

So, I kissed her again.

Deeper.

Harder.

Like I could burn the memory of Myah out of my mind. Like I could drown in her instead.

Then—a knock.

I stilled. Yanna sighed, rolling her eyes before climbing off of me. I took a deep breath, running a hand down my face, trying to clear my head before I moved to open the door.

And of course, it had to be Wyatt standing there.

His eyes immediately flicked between me and Yanna, his jaw tightening, suspicion all over his face.

I didn't wait for him to speak. Didn't let him get a word in before I pushed right past him, bumping his shoulder as I walked out.

I heard the door shut behind me, and I didn't even have to look back to know he was staring after me, piecing things together.

But I didn't care.

Or at least, I told myself I didn't.

Because if I cared, if I turned back, if I let this shit keep going the way it was?

I already knew there'd be no stopping it.

Another security guard approached me as I was making my way back to my post, his expression unreadable.

"Mr. Hill dismissed you for the day," he said, his voice steady, like this was just another routine order.

I clenched my jaw, nodding once before heading for my car. I didn't need to ask why—I already knew. Wyatt wasn't stupid. He saw something. He didn't know exactly what yet, but he wasn't about to let me stick around and find out.

Fine.

I had my own shit to deal with anyway.

By the time I got home, I was already annoyed, and it only got worse when I stepped inside and saw Myah still there.

She was lounging on my couch, scrolling through her phone like she belonged there, like she hadn't been taking up space in my life for way too long now.

I exhaled sharply, dropping my keys on the counter.

"Damn, they still not done with your place?" I asked, barely keeping the irritation out of my voice.

She looked up at me, batting her lashes like she always did when she wanted something. "Not yet," she said smoothly, standing up and making her way over to me.

I already knew where this was going before she even touched me.

Her hand trailed down my chest, slow and familiar, like muscle memory. Then she leaned in, tilting her head up, her lips parting slightly as she went in for a kiss—

And I turned my head.

Dodged it.

Her lips barely grazed my jaw before she pulled back, stunned.

I had never done that before.

The confusion on her face would've been funny if I wasn't so over this whole situation.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice softer now, laced with something almost insecure.

I stepped back, putting space between us. I needed space.

"You need to start looking for a place, Myah," I said bluntly. No sugarcoating. No excuses.

Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but I was already walking past her, heading straight for my room. I wasn't in the mood for a debate.

Not when Yanna was still fresh on my mind.