Chapter 9

𝙻𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗

I didn’t know she was that serious ’bout this job until she showed up a week ago with a whole student ID. A whole enrollment.

She slid that shit across the kitchen marble like it was a credit card, like she hadn’t just casually rearranged her entire life to hover closer to mine. No warnin’. No discussion.

The card slid across the marble and stopped right next to my phone.

Banks, Aries N.

Department: Criminal justice

I glanced at the ID then at her, my brows furrowing slowly. “You enrollin’ now?” I asked, picking it up between my fingers. “What? You bored of just savin’ my life?”

“It gives me access,” she replied, reachin’ over and snatchin’ it back. “And cover.”

“Cover for what??” I frowned, then took a good look at her fit and immediately sucked my teeth. “And why the hell is you matchin’ me?”

We were both rockin’ the same color jacket and jeans, lookin’ like a duo I didn’t sign up for. She sucked her teeth, shruggin’ off her jacket like she didn’t see the issue. “Being where you are.”

That should’ve annoyed me. It really should’ve. But instead, somethin’ warm and unsettling twisted in my chest. I didn’t like that. Not one bit. It felt like protection, and I wasn’t used to that feelin’ yet.

“Are you ready to go?” She asked.

I hummed, lookin’ away. “Put the jacket back on, I was just jokin’.” I started to brush past her, but my eyes landed on her arms—on the flex of her triceps as she moved. My throat went dry. “Or don’t,” I added quick. “Do you.”

My eyes flickered up to her russet brown eyes. For a split second—so quick I almost thought I hallucinated it—her eyes softened. They flickered, showin’ something real before that mask slid back on.

She practically lived in my schedule. Even when she wasn’t officially enrolled, she’d sneak in and sit in my row with the group. Every single time. But now she decided to sit a row behind me. Prolly ’cause of Mr. Wilson.

But Professors barely questioned it anyway. She had that kind of look, the one that made people assume she belonged wherever she stood.

All except that one class.

The one she took without me. I’m not sure why, and I didn’t even know about it at first. But I found out today after heading for lunch with the girls. And all because Whitey wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it.

“She’s in my ethics seminar,” Whitney blurted to one of her girls, loud enough to disturb the peace. She dragged that “my” out like she owned the girl’s whole soul. “She’s so damn smart… and flirty as usual.”

I rolled my eyes so hard it physically hurt. Imani side-eyed me instantly, while Britney nudged my elbow like she just caught the tea.

“Oh! Londyn, didn’t expect to see you here?” Whitney said, fake-surprised.

I turned around slow, lettin’ out a hum. Her friend kindly waved, and I waved back polite enough.

Whitney just smirked. “Aries enrolled. Supposedly she wasn’t seein’ me enough, so you know… she took a step further to see me more.” She said and I had to physically stop myself from laughin’ in her face, ’cause I knew damn well that is not why she enrolled, but the audacity was peak.

I looked back at my phone and shrugged. “Okay? And?”

She crossed her arms, that smirk still sittin’ heavy on her face. “She sits next to me.”

Somethin’ in my jaw locked. “Is that so?” I said, letting out a small hum.

“Yeah,” she continued, oblivious—or maybe she knew exactly what she was doin’. “She be drivin’ me home sometimes. Says it’s safer.”

My phone screen blurred.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry as hell. “She really don’t needa do allat,” I muttered to myself, but it was as if Imani heard ’cause she let out a quiet chuckle before quickly turning back to face the cashier.

“It’s giving jealous.” Whitney said, her brow arched like she’d already won.

I looked up instantly. “No,” I said too fast for my own good. “The fuck you take me for? I don’t bump purses.” I raised a brow. Imani choked on the drink the second it hit her mouth. Britney handed me my cup, her face twitchin’ like she was moments away from a loud-ass laugh.

“What?” She chuckled. “Aries don’t even got a—”

I turned around with a huff before she could even finish that sentence. I don’t want to hear shit ’bout their business. None of it. Ever.

What made it worse was the fact that Aries had been picking me up late for the past couple of weeks…and her SRT been smellin’ like straight floral body mist. And not that high-end pressure either—the cheap, sweet-ass kind that lingers in the upholstery like a loud-ass lie.

She stayed close to me, yeah, but all of it was subtle. Controlled. Professional. Like I was just a chore on a to-do list. With me, it was distance. But with Whitney? Apparently, she was human. And I don’t know why that blew me so much… but it did.

That realization followed me the rest of the day. Through class. Through campus. Through the way Aries stood outside my lecture hall afterward, posture relaxed, eyes scanning like she wasn’t paying attention—but catching everything at the same time .

“Who you drivin’ now?” I asked, the words slippin’ out before I could check ’em.

She blinked, her brows furrowin’ slightly. “Huh?”

“Nothin’, nigga. Move.”

She watched me for a beat, like she was clockin’ the lines I hadn’t meant to draw. I tried to focus on anything else, my exam next week, or my new nails that matched the red fit she’d “coincidentally” copied this mornin’.

“You ready?” She asked.

I hummed as we walked in silence. The whole group was supposed to slide through my spot for movie night. By the time movie night actually rolled around, my patience was already on life support.

I had invited the girls over and Khalil because I needed noise. Distraction. Proof that my house didn’t revolve around Aries and her stupid quiet presence. But somehow… it still did.

Whitney tagged along. But of course she did. She’s the only other person Aries speaks to, so when she casually mentioned she told Whitney to pull up? I smiled through my teeth like a champ.

We were in the theater room this time. leather recliners, surround sound, a screen so big it made regular tv’s look embarrassing. Everyone was laid out, snacks everywhere, liquor sittin’ top-shelf on the side tables like it was part of the decor.

It should’ve been a vibe. It would’ve been… if Aries and Whitney weren’t over there in the front in their own little world. They took the love seat. Not even the good-ass seats. No. The loveseat.

Whitney leaned in close to Aries, her legs restin’ on Aries’ lap as they spoke low like they were sharin’ secrets nobody else was supposed to hear. Aries on the other hand had her arm stretched across the back of the chair, laid out like she was havin’ the time of her life. Comfortable. Easy.

Too damn easy.

I watched as Whitney laughed at somethin’ Aries said, her hand landin’ on the back of Aries’ neck like it lived there. Without even thinkin’, I hit the pause button.

Everybody groaned.

“The fuck you pause it for? It was gettin’ good?!” Khalil whipped his head back. Chelsea patted his shoulder like, “relax before she bite you.“

“Nah,” I said, starin’ straight ahead with a blank-ass face. “I thought the sound was off or sumn. My fault?”

It wasn’t.

Khalil glanced from Aries back to me, a messy-ass grin creepin’ onto his face. He clearly clocked their bullshit.

I hit play again, eyes glued to the screen—except I wasn’t watchin’ a damn thing. All I could see was Whitney caressin’ the back of Aries’ neck like she was testing boundaries that clearly didn’t exist.

Aries leaned down to whisper something in her ear, Whitney biting her lip like she was auditionin’ for a role I deadass did not approve of.

I leaned over to Imani and whispered, “Am I trippin’, or they doin’ the most?”

Imani glanced over and chuckled softly. “Oh nah. They flirtin’-flirtin’.”

My jaw clenched. So I ain’t trippin’. Thank you.

“That’s crazy,” I muttered. “In my crib, too? She real outta pocket for that.”

I grabbed a handful of popcorn and started chewin’ aggressively, like that was gonna solve something. These people blow me, I swear.

Whitney laughed again—loud and unnecessary—and rested her head against Aries’s shoulder. That’s when I lost the plot.

“Y’all wanna get comfortable or somethin’?” I called out, my voice drippin’ in sugar. “I got blankets. Pillows. A whole spare room if you deadass need it???” my face balled up in pure disgust.

Whitney blinked. “Nah— we good.”

Aries looked over, one eyebrow archin’ like she was readin’ my thoughts.

“What???” I snapped. “I’m bein’ hospitable. My dad taught me manners.”

She smirked. “Thanks, Londyn.”

That smirk pissed me off. So damn bad. I hummed then stood up, walkin’ right over and ploppin’ myself into the seat on Aries’ other side—way closer than necessary. My thigh pressed against hers as I crossed my legs, slow and deliberate.

Whitney’s eye twitched. Good.

Aries glanced down at where our skin was touchin’, then back at me. “You comfortable now?”

“Very,” I said, lookin’ her dead in the eye. “Thanks for askin’, nigga.”

I rested my elbow on the armrest, which meant my arm was definitely pressed against hers. On purpose.

Whitney shifted, lookin’ agitated. “This movie kinda ass.”

“It is,” I agreed instantly. “You can leave, the gate’s already open.”

Britney choked on her drink. Aries let out a low laugh, shakin’ her head. “You always like this?”

“Like what?” I asked innocent-like.

“Goofy,” Whitney said, smiling.

“Funny,” Aries replied, same time she did.

I smiled back, tight and sharp. “Only when I’m irritated.”

The room went quiet for half a second before Aries leaned back, completely unbothered, her arm still stretched behind us both like she wasn’t the problem. That’s when it clicked. She deadass knew what she was doin’. And the crazy part? She was enjoyin’ it.

I sat there, pretendin’ to watch the screen, fully hatin’ every second of the way Whitney laughed too loud and Aries didn’t move away. To be clear. I wasn’t jealous. I was just…scopin’ the perimeter. But the longer this went on, the more I decided that liquor was the solution.

If I couldn’t unsee them, I’d blur my vision. Simple math.

I snatched the tequila off the side table like it owed me money. Khalil clocked it immediately. “Slow down, rich girl. You ’bout to be lookin’ for your pride on the floor.”

“I am slow,” I snapped, already pourin’. “This just look fast ’cause y’all poor.”

“The hell we catchin’ strays for?” Imani chimed in, and they laughed. But I didn’t wait. I shot it down. The burn hit my chest and I welcomed it with ease.

Whitney said somethin’, but I didn’t hear it over the sound of my own thoughts plottin’. I need my vision blurred by midnight.

Aries glanced over, her eyes narrowin’. That bodyguard look, creeping back in. “You good?” she asked.

“Never better,” I replied, slammin’ the glass down. “Movie night turnin’ into lit night. Get with the program.”

“That’s ’bout to be your third,” she clarified, her voice low and warnin’.

“And?” I smiled, feelin’ the heat rise to my cheeks. “You the drink police now? Is that in the contract—”

Her lips twitched like she wanted to say something else but decided against it. Good. Shut up. I took two more shots out of spite, locking eyes with her the whole time.

By the time the credits rolled, my limbs felt like cooked noodles, my thoughts felt loud, and my patience had officially clocked out for the night. Everybody was laughin’, gatherin’ their things, talkin’ ’bout hittin’ a late-night spot for wings.

I stayed planted in my seat, the room tiltin’—not a little, but a lot.

Imani crouched in front of me, brows furrowed. “Lo? You straight?”

“Define straight,” I said, squintin’ to keep her face in focus. “Because spiritually? No.”

She laughed. “Ah…yo ass is fried-fried.”

“I’m fun-drunk,” I corrected, my tongue feelin’ heavy.

She stood up anyway. “Text me when you wake up. Alive. And don’t do nothin’ I wouldn’t do.”

Everybody filed out one by one. Whitney lingered, lookin’ between me and Aries like she was debatin’ something. “You sure she okay?” Whitney asked.

Aries nodded, her voice steady and firm in a way that made my stomach flip. “I got her.”

That did something stupid to my chest. Ugh, fuck you.

Whitney hesitated, then forced a smile. “Night, Londyn.”

“Drive safe,” I said, wavin’ lazily from the couch. “And stop touchin’ things that ain’t yours.”

Whitney blinked, her smile falterin’. “Huh?”

“Nothin’,” I said, leaning back. “Atlanta roads crazy, huh. Watch out for them potholes.”

The door clicked shut and the silence dropped heavy. I laughed to myself, the sound comin’ out softer than I meant it to. “She gone?”

“Yes,” she huffed, soundin’ like she’d been holdin’ her breath for two hours.

“Good.”

I attempted to stand but my body immediately disagreed. I plopped right back into the seat with a quiet thud, lettin’ out a huff as I leaned sideways. My head landed on her shoulder—perfect fit, unfortunately.

“Easy,” Aries said, steady as ever. I tilted my head up to look at her, my face closer than it had any business bein’. Her eyes looked darker like this. Focused. Concerned. A little too aware of me.

I intended to try and get back up again but it was as if she could see my thought process and interjected. “Sit,” she said firmly.

“I don’t wanna sit.”

She sighed, the sound low and frustrated. “Londyn.”

I pouted. I deadass pouted. “You say my name like I’m a damn child.”

“Well, you drinking like one. Spite shots? really?”

“Rude,” I muttered, my tongue still feelin’ heavy. “You let Whitney drink. You let Whitney do a whole lot of things.”

Her jaw tightened. Just slightly. “She ain’t my responsibility, Londyn.”

“Oh,” I smiled lazily, my words dragging. “But I am…?”

She didn’t answer me, but that silence was louder than anythin’ she’s ever said. I reached up and held her jaw, squeezin’ her face like she was a toy. My acrylics pressed against her skin, pretty against her complexion and looking like a nice decoration on her face.

She just let me touch her face. Didn’t flinch, didn’t move my hand. I smirked, squeezin’ her face until her lips were all pursed up.. “You done?” she asked, her voice flat as a board.

“Nope.” I shuffled, managin’ to straddle her lap. I felt her body stiffen up under me. “Relax.” I murmured, my voice draggin’. My gaze faltered to her lips. For a split second, her shoulders dropped—she was given’ in. Then I looked back at her eyes and she went back to bein’ a statue.

Her hands stayed at her sides, out of “respect” or whatever, but I deadass didn’t care. I was too lit to give a fuck.

“Aries,” I said soft-like. “Can you just… relax?”

She huffed. “Londyn, you shouldn’t even be sittin’ on me like this. This ain’t the job.”

I rolled my eyes, leanin’ in just a little closer. “Harmless interaction.” I whispered. My eyes flickered back to her lips, like I had a problem. Like I couldn’t stop. “What’re you—”

And then… the tequila hit back. A sudden rush within my stomach like a freight train. My hand instinctively flew to my mouth but it was too late. I threw up… straight on her chest.

I froze. Fuck.

I just threw up on her.

“Bro—”

She leaned me back, lettin’ out a groan so harsh it made my head spin. Without hesitation’, she yanked her t-shirt and her wife-beater off over her head. She started usin’ the fabric to wipe off the mess off me, her tattooed arms flexin’ in the dim light.

“I—I’m actually so—” I couldn’t even finish the apology before the second wave hit. I threw up again.

Aries didn’t even complain this time, she just moved faster, cleanin’ me up like she’d done it a thousand times before. She bent down, one arm slidin’ around my back, while the other hookin’ under my knees.

“What you—” I gasped, my voice weak and raspy from the tequila.

“I’m takin’ you upstairs to get cleaned.” she said, like it wasn’t even a question.

My head fell against her bare shoulder as she lifted me. She smelled like her usual scent, mixed in with the mess I’d just made, but still familiar. Safe in a way that made my chest ache.

“Do you like her?” I asked, too honest, words slipping before I could stop them.

She paused at the base of the stairs, her grip tightenin’ just a fraction. “No.”

I hummed softly, eyes heavy. “Good… ‘Cause I don’t…” I didn’t even finish that thought.

She carried me like I was air—steady, careful, like I was somethin’ expensive she couldn’t afford to break. She set me down on the bathroom counter and pulled off my slides without me even havin’ to ask. Her movements were quiet. Practiced.

I watched her closely through half-lidded eyes. “You real good at this,” I murmured

“At what?”

“Stayin’.”

That made her look at me. Really look at me. Somethin’ unreadable flickered in those russet eyes—a flash of something that wasn’t professional and distant. She let out a heavy sigh. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Londyn.”

I reached out, fingers catchin’ her wrist.

She froze.

“Don’t take classes with her no more,” I whispered, my pride bleedin’ out on the tiles.

She exhaled slow, the sound vibratin’ in the small space. “You drunk.”

“Yeah,” I said, eyes closing. “But I ain’t blind.” I felt her hand brush my hair back. It was careful. Lingerin’ just a second too long to be “professional.”