This (Messy) Christmas: A Novella

Merry Christmas to all the readers in the land of Urban Love Stories!

As you get cozy this holiday season, I’ve got something spicy and messy for you—a holiday short straight out of my “Where The Party At?” stand alone novella series. You know this one.

We started with Jade and Akil in Promise over Labor Day, then dove into Marz and Bryelle’s story on Election Night in Gotta Be. Don’t worry, you don’t have to start with the other stories before reading this one. Now, it’s time for Jade to throw a Holiday Party, and let me tell you—this one’s messier than ever.

Turns out, two members of the friend group have been keeping a relationship secret for almost a year. Just as they’re ready to reveal their love, a newcomer to the group shows up and throws a wrench in the vibes, threatening to turn everything upside down.

Get ready, because this holiday party is about to get wild!

-JT Westonberry

ROGER

"The hell you calling me Braxton P. Hartnabrig for, huh?" My voice dropped low, rough, as the sharp smack of my hand on Fallon’s ass echoed through the dimly lit room. The impact made her gasp, her body jolting against the counter. "You think that shit’s funny?"

"I’m sorry! Oh, God, I’m sorry!" she gasped, her breath trembling between laughter and something deeper as her hands gripped the counter’s edge so tight her knuckles turned white. She didn’t stop moving, her body meeting mine with a deliberate rhythm, as if the same hunger was coursing through her veins. "It’s the glasses—they just…they do something to me. You know I’ve got a thing for them."

Another slap, harder this time. Her back arched instinctively, and when she dared to glance over her shoulder at me, that wicked smirk was playing on her lips, daring me to react.

"You’re taking this secret relationship role too damn seriously," I growled, my frustration bleeding into the words, each syllable thick with arousal and annoyance burning under my skin. "You’re too good at those jokes, Fallon. It’s like you’re testing the structural integrity of my patience."

She laughed, that low, breathy sound that always pushed me over the edge. "I love getting in trouble with you," she whispered, just before I shoved her back down, my hand firm on the back of her neck. She didn’t resist—she never did when we were like this.

Fallon knew how to press my buttons, and lately, she wasn’t just pressing them—she was mashing them with both hands. Typically, I prided myself on keeping a measured approach to just about everything, but tonight? Tonight was different.

I hadn’t seen her since election night when she roasted me in front of our friends so hard I was seconds away from walking out. Fallon had an uncanny ability to make me look like a fool while still managing to charm the room. It stung—more than I wanted to admit. I stayed silent for the rest of the night, made sure she got home safely, and left it at that. A weeklong business trip to NASA followed, and between the deadlines and the sheer exhaustion of managing high-stakes projects, I barely had the bandwidth to call her, let alone work through the sting of her jokes.

And now? Now we were back in the same space, and all the unresolved tension from that night was colliding with the heat between us in a way that was damn near combustible. She was angry, convinced I’d ignored her while I was away, starved for the attention she felt she was owed, and horny as hell. And me? I was just as pent up, still simmering with frustration I hadn’t been able to articulate.

The result? This. Hours of us tearing through my penthouse, our bodies locked in a raw, frenzied rhythm like it was the only way to translate everything we couldn’t put into words. No apologies. No explanations. Just a desperate connection that stripped away everything else until it was just us—tangled in sheets, furniture, and each other. The kind of passion that wasn’t clean or simple but burned so bright it left no room for anything else.

And Fallon? She loved every second of it.

Fallon shoved me off her, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. Before I could say a word, her hands clawed at my skin, igniting a heat that coursed straight through me. I gripped her by the curve of her ass, lifting her effortlessly onto the counter. Her thighs parted wide, welcoming me, daring me, and I accepted the challenge with a slow, deliberate grin that said everything.

Dinner was served, after all—and we were already in the kitchen.

Her head lolled back, her hair spilling over her shoulders like a cascade of silk. When her hands pressed on the back of my head, urging me down, I resisted, locking my fingers around her thighs and holding her in place. My grip was firm, commanding, my thumbs digging into her soft flesh as if to remind her who was in control.

“Watch me while I’m eating you, Fallon,” I growled against her skin, my voice rough but steady, a scientist’s precision in every word.

Her head snapped up so fast it nearly broke the tension—almost. But the fire blazing in her eyes obliterated any room for humor. She locked onto me with an intensity that sent a jolt down my spine, her chest heaving as her teeth sank into her bottom lip, her composure fraying at the edges.

“Roger,” she purred, her voice fractured, breathless, each word spilling out between trembling lips. “Best. Fucking. Eater.”

Her words sent a thrill through me, a visceral reminder that I was the best—that no one else had ever made her unravel like this. But I wasn’t finished. Not until she shattered completely, her body giving way to me. And when she finally did, her thighs quaked, her lips parted in a silent cry, and she spilled over into my mouth, unable to hold back for another second.

I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. I devoured her through every pulse of her orgasm, her trembling body singing with every touch of my tongue. The sound of her release echoed around us, raw and unrestrained, as if the room itself vibrated with the force of it. Her taste was intoxicating, the surrender in her moans was music, and the way her head fell back, her body melting under my hands—it was a night at The Symphony that I didn’t want to end. And damn it, I wanted her to know just how much I loved playing every note of it for her.

I didn’t give Fallon much time to recover. Before she could fully catch her breath, I scooped her up, her soft, pliant body molding against mine like she was made for me. She barely had time to blink before I lowered us onto the couch. Her legs were over my shoulders, my knees braced against the cushions, and I was driving back into her with the urgency of a man who couldn’t get enough.

Possessed wasn’t the word—it didn’t go far enough. I wasn’t just inside her body; I was inside her world, her soul, and there wasn’t a force in the universe that could pull me away.

“Fuck!” she screamed, her nails clawing at the cushions as she arched off the couch, her body bowing like a live wire under my touch. “Bunny!” she cried out, the nickname spilling from her lips in a mix of pleasure and desperation. She’d given it to me after our first weekend together, joking that I was relentless, insatiable, fucked like a rabbit. Now, as I found her spot and hit it with precision, over and over, the way her cries filled the air told me she hadn’t been exaggerating.

Her hands found my shoulders, fingers digging into my skin as she tried to anchor herself. “God, Roger,” she gasped, her chest heaving. “How can you be so smart and so nasty at the same time?”

I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips. “Multitasking,” I said, my voice low and teasing. “One of my many skills.”

She laughed, breathless but genuine, her head falling back for a moment before she looked at me, her gaze softening even as her body trembled.

“I mean it, though,” she murmured, her hands slipping up to cup my face. “You’re this quiet, brilliant man who can talk about stars and atoms like they’re nothing… but then you look at me like this, fuck me like this… and God, Roger…”

I paused, my movements slowing as her words settled into the space between us. My forehead dropped to hers, and I let myself breathe her in, my hands cradling her thighs like they were my anchor. Like if I let go, she might slip away, and I couldn’t let that happen.

“Fallon,” I said, my voice rough with something deeper than arousal, raw and unguarded. “You don’t even know what you do to me. You’ve been in my head since the moment I met you.” I brushed my lips against hers, just enough to feel the warmth of her breath. “You’re like gravity—pulling me in, holding me steady, making me forget everything else. Every calculation, every rule, every orbit—none of it matters when I’m with you.”

Her lips curved into a soft smile, her fingers brushing over my jaw. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You make me feel things I didn’t even know I could feel. You see me, all of me, and you still… you still want me.”

“Always,” I said, my voice steady, my eyes locked on hers. “I love you too, Fallon. Everything about you. The way you challenge me, the way you make me laugh, the way you…” My words faltered as I glanced down between us, the sight of her slickness coating my dick making my breath hitch. “Fuck…” I groaned, the sound raw and deep.

My hands gripped her thighs tighter as I thrust into her, slow and deliberate, savoring every second of the way her body gripped me.

“I need you, Baby Love,” I murmured, my voice thick with desperation, each word falling from my lips like a confession. “Need you so bad. Damn, you feel so good—” My breath hitched as I looked down between us, watching me go in and out of her. “Can I live in here? In this pussy? Is that possible?”

I grinned against her skin, my voice dipping lower, rougher. “Shit, let me invent a way. Let me figure out how to make it happen.”

Her lips trembled, her eyes glistening as she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me down into a kiss that was slow and deep, her love pouring into me. When we broke apart, she looked at me with a smile that was all mischief again.

“If anyone can find a way, it’s you, Bunny,” she teased, her voice light and teasing as her nails raked lightly down my back, sending a shiver through me. “So nasty. The way you eat me like it’s the last thing you’ll ever taste? That’s some top-tier filth, Dr. Casen.”

I chuckled, low and deep, pressing a kiss to her shoulder before murmuring, “And you love it.”

Her laughter bubbled up, soft and warm, filling the room as her legs tightened around me, drawing me impossibly closer. She leaned into me, her lips brushing my ear as she whispered, her voice sultry and full of affection, “I do. I love every filthy, brilliant, wonderful thing about you, Bunny. You make me feel so good. In every way.”

Her words wrapped around me, pulling me under as I grinned against her skin. “Good,” I murmured, nipping at the curve of her neck. “Because I’m never stopping. You’re mine, Fallon. All of you. Always.””

Her body clung to me, her heat drawing me deeper, but my head wasn’t just here in the moment. It was spinning with everything that’d been building between us these past eight months.

Eight months of sneaking, hiding, pretending. Eight months of showing up to Akil and Jade’s events, playing my role as one of Akil’s boys while Fallon pretended to be just another of Jade’s friends. No sitting together. No real conversations. It was the plan—our plan—but it was wearing thin.

I couldn’t keep doing this. Not when Marz and Bryelle were out there living their love loud and proud. Marz spent months calling her his wife before she even gave him a chance, and now? One trip to get ice at the election party, and they’re a couple, no hesitation, no hiding. Meanwhile, I was still stuck in the shadows with Fallon.

My grip on her thighs tightened as I moved harder, deeper, letting all the frustration, longing, and anger I couldn’t say out loud bleed into every thrust. Her head tilted back, her cries filling the room, but even that couldn’t drown out the question gnawing at me: How much longer could I keep being her secret?

Fallon wasn’t just under my skin—she was in my soul.

“Whose pussy is this, Baby Love?” My voice was low, rough, barely tethered to control as I stared down at her, my body driving deeper, demanding more. I needed her answer like I needed oxygen.

“Yours, Bunny!” she cried, her voice trembling, her body arching beneath me as if she was offering every piece of herself.

“Mmhmm,” I growled, the sound more primal than planned. “And don’t forget that shit when you’re out there.” The words carried more than just lust—they were a demand, a plea buried deep, my pride barely holding the edges together.

“Never,” she panted, her hands clinging to my arms, her nails carving into my skin as her gaze locked onto mine, unwavering. “I’m yours, Bunny. I’m all yours.”

Her certainty shattered something inside me, breaking through every barrier I’d put in place. Her words wrapped around the ache I’d carried for months, soothing it even as they stoked a fire I couldn’t contain. My control cracked wide open, the dam breaking as I surged forward one last time, burying myself deep, claiming her in every way I could.

I came hard, a guttural groan tearing from my chest as her name fell from my lips. For a moment, it was just us—nothing else. The storm of emotions, the chaos of unspoken words, all quieted by the intensity of what we shared.

But as I held her close, our breaths mingling in the stillness, the question I couldn’t escape whispered in the back of my mind: How much longer could I keep hiding this?

“I’m tired of this shit, Fallon,” I murmured, my forehead pressed to hers as we both struggled to catch our breath. My body was still buried deep inside her, but the ache in my chest was something no physical release could touch.

“Bunny—” she started, her voice soft, almost hesitant. I could hear it coming, the excuse I didn’t want to hear, the words that would try to make this feel smaller than it was.

“Don’t ‘Bunny’ me,” I cut her off.

She sighed, her hands sliding up to rest on my shoulders, her touch grounding but not enough to calm the fire burning in me. “This was your idea,” she said, her voice calm but edged with a hint of defensiveness. “You wanted us to keep our business to ourselves. And, honestly? It’s been fun. I kinda like it.”

“You like the sex when I’m pissed off,” I shot back, a low chuckle escaping me despite the tension.

Her teeth caught her bottom lip, and for a moment, that mischievous glint danced in her eyes—the one that always made me weak. She leaned in, her lips brushing mine, soft and slow, like she thought it could erase everything I’d just said. Like she thought she could kiss away the weight of what was building between us.

But it didn’t. Not this time.

“I wanna be out there with you,” I said, my voice quieter now, almost lost in the space between us. I turned my head, my gaze falling on the Westonberry skyline glowing in the distance through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city stretched out before us, alive and open, and I wanted it—us—out there.

Her hands stilled on my shoulders, and for a moment, the silence was heavy, punctuated only by the sound of our breathing. I didn’t look back at her right away. I was too scared of what I might see in her eyes. Too scared that her answer might be the one thing I didn’t want to hear.

Her hands slid down from my shoulders, trailing along my chest as she exhaled softly. “Roger…” she began, her voice uncertain, like she was trying to find the right words in a moment that felt too raw for either of us.

I finally looked at her, locking onto those dark, beautiful eyes of hers. “I mean it, Fallon. I’m done playing games,” I said, my voice firm but tinged with vulnerability. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I want everyone to know. What’s so wrong with that?” My hands tightened on her thighs, holding her steady as I leaned in closer. “I know this was my idea, but we’re solid now. There’s nothing wrong with people knowing the truth. You love me, and I love you.”

Her gaze flickered, dropping as her fingers fidgeted with one of the cushions. “You know it’s not that simple,” she said finally, her voice soft, almost hesitant. She wouldn’t look at me, her eyes fixed somewhere else, like she was afraid of what she might find if she met my gaze. “What we have… it works because it’s ours. It’s private. No one can ruin it if they don’t know about it.”

Her words hung in the air, a fragile defense wrapped in fear. I could see it in the way her shoulders tensed, in the way her voice trembled at the edges. Fallon wasn’t just worried about what others might say—she was terrified of losing what we had.

But I couldn’t let her hide behind that fear anymore. Not when I knew we could be so much more.

I shook my head, the frustration simmering just beneath my skin. “That’s bullshit, Fallon. It’s not private—it’s hidden. And I’m not interested in being some secret you stash away for when it’s convenient.” My voice was firm, but my hands softened their grip on her. I wasn’t trying to hurt her, but damn it, I needed her to understand.

Her head snapped up at that, her eyes narrowing. “You think that’s what this is? That you’re just… convenient to me?”

I ran a hand through my hair, the tension threatening to bubble over. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” I said, my voice tight with frustration and something deeper, rawer. “All I know is that I’m tired of sneaking around, tired of pretending you’re not the woman I can see myself with for the foreseeable future. I want to hold your hand in public, sit next to you at these parties, and not give a damn what anyone has to say about it.”

She stared at me, her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes searching mine as if she were trying to process every word I’d just thrown at her. The silence between us grew heavy, thick enough to drown in, and for a moment, I braced myself for the possibility that she might shut me out completely.

But then, slowly, she reached up, her hands cradling my face, her thumbs brushing along my jaw in a touch so soft it almost broke me.

“But putting us out there?” she said finally, her voice low but steady, though I could hear the worry hiding beneath. “That changes everything. You don’t know how messy things can get when people start sticking their noses where they don’t belong.”

I leaned into her touch, letting my forehead rest against hers as I exhaled, long and deep. “I don’t care about people, Fallon. I care about you. About us.” My voice softened, but the conviction was still there, unshakable. “I just need to know if you’re willing to stop hiding. Look at Marz and Bryelle—they’re proof it can be done.”

Her fingers stilled against my skin, her breath hitching as the weight of my words settled between us. I stayed there, close, waiting for her to meet me halfway. Waiting for her to decide.

Her lips curled into a soft laugh, breaking the tension for a moment. “That’s all the rage in the group chats,” she said, her voice laced with amusement. “Y’all haven’t been giving Marz a hard time?”

I shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “I mean… some of the guys, yeah. Akil’s worried about folks pairing off. He thinks it’s gonna mess with the group dynamic.”

But before I could say anything else, she eased me out of her. Her hands rested lightly on my shoulders, her touch soft, as if she were trying to keep the moment from shattering while she shifted back.

The sudden absence of her warmth hit me harder than I expected, leaving an ache I couldn’t quite place. I stayed still, letting her take the lead. Fallon had always set the pace between us, and I wasn’t about to change that now. Her eyes locked on mine, searching for something I couldn’t quite name, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

I tried to hold her gaze, to focus on the weight of whatever she was trying to say without words, but my attention kept slipping. The mess between us caught my eye—evidence of everything we’d just done, glistening and raw. My tongue darted out, licking my lips involuntarily, as the thought of cleaning it up flashed through my mind.

Goddamn it, Roger. Focus. But my intentions weren’t entirely pure, and she knew it. Fallon’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk flickering across her face as she caught me staring.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice low, coaxing.

“What if this changes once everyone knows?” she asked pressed again, vulnerability slipping into her tone. Her words hung in the air, as raw as the sight of her—our fluids dripping from her, painting her thighs. It was a mess, one I had every intention of cleaning up. My tongue darted out to wet my lips, the heat in my body still pulsing, but I forced myself to focus.

“Nothing will change,” I said firmly, locking my gaze with hers. “Except now you can stop using your theatre experience.” A small smile broke through my seriousness as I tried to coax her into relaxing. “You’ve been acting your ass off at these events, you know. You deserve an Oscar.”

She let out a deep sigh, her chest rising and falling as she processed my words. I could see the wheels turning in her mind, spinning a mile a minute. Fallon was always like this—calculated, thoughtful, never one to rush a decision.

“Christmas,” she said finally, her voice soft but steady. “We’ll tell them then. Let me have this to myself for a few more weeks.”

Her words carried a vulnerability I wasn’t used to hearing from her. It wasn’t hesitation—it was something deeper, a need to keep this just ours, just a little while longer.

I held her gaze, the weight of her request pressing against my chest. After a long beat, I nodded. “Fine. Christmas.”

Relief softened her features, and she smiled—a small, tentative curve of her lips. “Christmas,” she repeated, the word landing heavier than I expected, like she was sealing a fragile agreement between us.

Before I could say anything else, she guided my head back down, her hands threading through my hair with a kind of urgency that made my pulse spike. She knew I was still hungry, still burning for her, and she wasn’t wrong. Not when she looked at me like that, her body trembling beneath mine, as if she’d been waiting for the words to end so we could get back to what we did best.

And right now? I wasn’t about to deny her. Not when every part of me still craved her, still needed to taste her again. The secrets, the waiting—all of it could wait until Christmas.

Right now, Fallon was mine. And I was a starved man, more than willing to eat before any more talking could get in the way.

FALLON

I pulled up to Akil and Jade’s spot solo, the hum of my car’s engine fading into the quiet of their street. I stared at the warm glow spilling out of their windows and sighed, already bracing myself for what was coming. Roger and I had decided it was time to tell everyone about us, but, honestly, our plan was...loose at best. No dramatic hand-holding entrances, no speeches rehearsed in the mirror. We figured dinner would be the perfect stage to ease them into it.

But the how? Yeah, we hadn’t exactly nailed that part down. What were we even supposed to say? “Hey, pass the wine, by the way, we’re in love”? These were people we loved, people we considered family—not strangers. They deserved better than some half-baked confession, but I convinced myself we’d wing it, and it’d be fine. Right?

I leaned back in my seat, letting out a deep breath, trying to calm the tiny knot of nerves twisting in my stomach. Me and Roger? We were...complicated, but in the best kind of way. From the outside, we looked like a mismatch. Him with his calm, non-confrontational, nerdy vibe, always rocking button-downs like he was headed to a symposium. And me? Let’s just say I’ve never met a button I didn’t want to unbutton.

Roger made it so damn easy for me to poke at him, too. He’d take my sly jabs, always unbothered, never breaking that even-tempered facade. It was fun, especially with us still a secret. Especially when I knew exactly how he’d get me back for it later.

Because behind closed doors? Whew. My mild-mannered scientist turned into a whole different animal. He had this way of flipping the script that left me hoarse, legs shaking, and damn near crawling back to the bed. I’d catch my reflection afterward, looking like I’d survived a hurricane, and wonder how the hell a man so soft-spoken could wreck me so completely. The man had skills—PhD-level, mind-erasing skills—that made me forget my own name.

My thighs clenched at the memory. Nobody looking at him in those button-downs and glasses would ever guess, but Roger was packing. I know he worked for NASA sometimes, but apparently, he’d smuggled a whole missile home, and it lived right in his pants. And it wasn’t just that he had the goods—he knew exactly how to use them.

But it wasn’t just physical. Roger was sweet in a way that caught me off guard every time. Supportive, thoughtful, a listener. A romantic who sent flowers and little notes to my job every Wednesday, dates on Fridays, and these annoyingly perfect, encouraging texts every Monday morning before my weekly company meeting. He was consistent. Solid. The kind of man who could make you feel like you’d won the lottery, even on your worst day.

He wasn’t the kind of guy I usually went for—rough edges, bad attitudes, and a little danger had been my usual kryptonite—but that was the thing. Roger wasn’t my type, and that was the best thing that had ever happened to me.

For the first time, I felt something I’d never known before: safe. Being with him was like discovering some hidden room in your house—a space you didn’t even know you needed but now couldn’t imagine living without. It was love—real, messy, terrifying love—and it scared the hell out of me how much I wanted to keep it.

The sneaking around had its thrills, sure, but it was time. Time to step into the light and let the world know. Tonight, we were coming out of the closet.

And whatever came next? I was ready for it.

Or at least, that’s what I told myself as I swung open the car door, stepped out, and made my way up the steps to face whatever waited inside.

“There she is!” Jade practically squealed, standing at the door with it thrown wide open. She shimmered in a red sequined dress, sparkling like she’d personally hired a lighting crew to follow her around.

One thing about Jade—she was always the hostess with the mostest, and she never missed the chance to look like the star of her own show.

“Girl, you look so good!” I said, pulling her into a hug. The sequins scratched my arm, but I let it slide—she was worth the glitter rash. “And you’re wearing the perfume I got you for your birthday,” I added, leaning in to sniff her like a creep.

“Yes!” Jade laughed, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe me. She let go and snatched the gift bag from my hand, already moving toward the living room. “And I’ll take that for Black Ass Elephant.”

I blinked, arching an eyebrow as a grin tugged at my lips. “Black Ass Elephant?”

“You know, instead of White Elephant,” she said casually, as if that explained everything. She closed the door behind me with a dramatic flourish and motioned for me to follow her inside.

Classic Jade—over the top, unapologetically herself, and somehow always making me feel like I’d walked straight into a production she’d masterminded. And tonight? It seemed I’d be front and center.

The house was alive with energy—voices mingling over the clink of glasses, bursts of laughter cutting through the chatter. Warm, golden string lights crisscrossed the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the space. Jade had gone all out as usual: the dining table was draped in an elegant black-and-gold runner, with candles flickering in glass holders surrounded by sprigs of greenery and glitter-dusted pinecones. A tower of perfectly arranged finger foods stood near the kitchen, next to a bar stocked with every liquor imaginable.

People were scattered throughout, lounging on Jade’s plush velvet sofas and leaning against her marble-topped kitchen island, chatting, sipping, and nibbling on hors d’oeuvres that looked straight out of a Pinterest board. And then there was him.

Roger.

My eyes found him immediately, standing near the corner with a glass in his hand, his gaze locked on me the second I walked in. My heart did a little flip, but I played it cool, flashing him the smallest of smiles before turning my attention back to Jade.

“Girl, so don’t kill me, but…” Jade’s voice snapped me back to the moment. She was grinning like she’d just set a trap and couldn’t wait to see what crawled into it.

“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. I already knew I wasn’t going to like this.

She bit her lip and squealed, “I invited Carter for you!”

“Who?”

“Carter! Akil’s coworker. I told you about him months ago,” she whined, like I was supposed to have a filing cabinet in my brain labeled Jade’s Matchmaking Projects. “He saw that picture of you on my Instagram and DM’d Akil asking about you. Remember?”

“Oh, shit!” The memory hit me like a slap. Carter had slid into my DMs, and I’d left him on read. Why? Because that was the night Roger and I made it official. Timing, apparently, wasn’t his strong suit—or Jade’s.

“Oh shit, good, right?” Jade beamed, clapping her hands together like she’d just solved world hunger. “Oooop! Play it cool, boo—he’s right behind you.”

“He’s here???” I hissed, panic rising in my chest.

Before she could answer, a voice rumbled behind me, deep and smooth like a bassline you feel in your bones. “Fallon… damn…”

I turned slowly, bracing myself. And there he was—Carter.

Every inch of him screamed my usual type: over six feet, tattoos snaking from his neck to his wrists, light brown skin that practically glowed under the dim lighting. Trouble, head to toe. The kind of fine that makes you momentarily forget all your good sense. Jesus.

“Carter, hey,” I said, my voice softer than I wanted, betraying the discomfort curling in my stomach. My fingers instinctively tucked my hair behind my ear, a nervous tick I hated, as my eyes darted toward Roger. He was across the room, his jaw tight and his frown deep enough to carve stone. He already knew something was up, already putting the pieces together with his smart self.

“You look even better in person. Beautiful,” Carter said, his voice smooth and easy as his gaze swept over me, slow and deliberate, like I was something he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into. “I like your dress. Compliments your frame.”

The air felt thick, and I had to swallow hard before forcing out a quiet, “Thank you.” The words came out softer than I intended, almost shaky, which pissed me off more than anything.

And then, behind him, Jade appeared. Of course, she did. Grinning like a cartoon villain who’d just pulled off the heist of the century, she gave me an exaggerated thumbs-up, her face practically shouting, See? Told you he’s perfect! Completely oblivious—or worse, indifferent—to the storm brewing in the room.

Roger’s eyes burned into me from where he was standing, Carter’s grin dangerously self-assured, and Jade… Jade was just basking in her matchmaking glory like she hadn’t just tossed a grenade into the middle of my carefully managed situation. She even reached over to high-five Akil, who, judging by the proud look on his face, clearly approved of this matchmaking masterpiece. They stood there, happy and oblivious, like they’d nailed it. Like they’d just handed me the man of my dreams on a silver platter.

Meanwhile, Roger was pissed. His eyes darted from me to Jade, his expression dark and simmering. If looks could kill, Jade would already be six feet under with Akil digging the grave. I shifted my weight, feeling the tension crawling up my spine, tightening around my chest. This wasn’t the plan—any of it. Now I was stuck between the fire I’d walked away from and the safe harbor I was desperately trying to protect.

“I had a look at the seating chart earlier,” Carter said, his voice low and smooth as he leaned in slightly. “Looks like Jade sat us next to each other.”

The sly smile on his face made my stomach flip, and not in a good way.

“A seat—a seating—wait, we have assigned seating?” I stammered, my annoyance bubbling to the surface. Because of course we did. Jade and her extra-hostess antics never missed a beat.

“Yeah,” Carter replied, his grin widening. “Problem with sitting next to me?”

His tone was teasing, but the challenge in his eyes was impossible to miss, like he already knew there was no way I’d say yes.

I opened my mouth, fully prepared to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. I clamped it shut again, flustered, and tried to regroup. “Nope. I just—”

“Alright, everyone, let’s take our seats!” Jade’s voice rang out, slicing through the moment like a knife and saving me from whatever half-baked excuse I was about to toss at Carter.

But before I could even process the interruption, Carter reached for my hand. His grip was firm, commanding—like he’d already decided we were in this together, and I didn’t get a vote. My fingers disappeared into his, and before I could pull back or protest, we were moving.

“I already know where we’re at,” he said, his tone smooth, casual, and entirely too confident. He led the way like this was his show, and I was just along for the ride. My brain scrambled for a response, but his self-assured energy had a way of short-circuiting my usual snark.

When we reached the table, Carter pulled out my chair with all the charm of a tattooed gentleman, his grin sharp enough to cut glass. I sat stiffly, forcing a polite smile, but the heat creeping up my neck betrayed me.

My eyes darted across the table, searching for Roger. There he was, planted at the far end, his glass forgotten in his hand, his gaze locked on me. No, not on me—on Carter. His expression was sharp, unfamiliar, and humming with tension. It wasn’t jealousy—not the kind I was used to, anyway. No, this was something darker, something cold and deliberate, and it was aimed squarely at the man who had just claimed the seat beside me.

The air between the two of them felt heavy, electric, like the static that comes before a storm. I sat frozen, the weight of it pressing down on my chest, and all I could think was: This isn’t gonna be good.

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FALLON

Dinner started off as harmless as Jade’s typical over-the-top gatherings could be. The table buzzed with laughter and conversation, clinking glasses and the warm glow of candlelight adding to the cozy chaos. I tried to focus on my plate, the small talk, anything other than the man sitting so close to me his cologne wrapped around my senses.

But Carter was relentless.

“You barely touched your food,” Carter said, leaning in just enough for his voice to rumble low in my ear. His proximity made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. “Need me to get you something else? I’ll make you a plate,” he offered, his tone dripping with casual confidence.

I straightened in my chair, forcing a laugh that felt as shaky as I did. “I’m fine. Just not that hungry.”

“Sure,” he said, leaning back with a smug grin, his eyes still locked on me like he could see right through the façade I was trying to keep together. His confidence was intoxicating—and absolutely infuriating.

I glanced toward Roger again, hoping for a reprieve, but his expression only made my pulse race faster. His jaw was tight, his fingers gripping his glass like it had personally offended him. He wasn’t even pretending to engage in the conversation at his end of the table anymore. His focus was locked squarely on me—and Carter.

“You know, Fallon, I’ve been asking Akil about you for a long time,” Carter said suddenly, flashing that devastating smile of his.

“Yea?” I asked, my voice coming out more nervous than I’d intended.

“Yeah,” he said with a small chuckle. “I’m no longer at the firehouse, so I haven’t seen him much to check in. Not sure if he’s been putting in a good word for me lately,” he added, his tone light but pointed.

Jesus. Work. Yes, let’s talk about work. Safe territory.

“You’re not a fireman anymore?” I asked, gripping my fork like it was some kind of lifeline.

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Those fires in Juniper? That was my last hoorah. After that mess, I had to wrap it up.”

“Yeah, that was crazy,” I said, trying to sound casual while the tension in my chest refused to ease.

“Crazy doesn’t even cover it,” he said, leaning forward again, his voice dropping as though he was sharing a secret. “They had us Westonberry boys out there. Too much for Juniper alone. Though we had a fire out here, too—a little raggedy strip club.”

“Was that connected?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation somewhere less personal.

“Who knows?” Carter shrugged, his expression hardening just slightly. “Juniper PD doesn’t seem too interested in investigating much further. Not once they got that pastor.”

“That whole thing seemed crazy,” I said, my mind flickering back to the news footage of Juniper, the sky lit up with smoke and flames. “So what are you doing now?”

“I started a mobile car wash,” he said proudly, his chest puffing a little. “Me and my brother.”

“You have a brother?” I asked, surprised.

“A twin,” he replied, and just like that, my mouth fell open.

“A twin? No way! Identical or fraternal?”

“Identical,” he said, grinning like it was the coolest fun fact in the world—which, honestly, it was.

There were two men walking around Westonberry looking like this? God help us all.

“Different tattoos, though,” he added with a playful smirk. “And he’s got golds on his bottoms. If you ever run into him thinking it’s me.”

“Gold teeth aren’t for you?” I teased, trying to keep the mood light even though his gaze was starting to do things to my composure.

“Nah,” he said with a shake of his head. “That’s Cartier’s thing.”

“Carter and Cartier? How cute,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Ain’t shit cute about me, Beautiful,” he shot back, his voice low and smooth, the kind of tone that sends chills down your spine. His eyes flicked over me, slow and deliberate, like he was imagining exactly what he’d do if he got the chance. And the way he looked at me? Lord, it had me fighting the urge to cross myself.

But no. Focus. I had a man, and it wasn’t Carter. No matter how fine he looked or how cool his not cute twin story was.

“All right, y’all!” Jade chirped, standing at the head of the table with her glass raised high, her sequined dress catching the candlelight like a disco ball. “Time for Black Ass Elephant! I put all your names in the bowl, so get ready to fight for the good stuff!”

The table erupted in laughter and cheers, forks clinking against glasses, everyone leaning into the chaos Jade lived to create. I took the opportunity to slip out of my chair, desperate for a moment of quiet to untangle the mess in my head. But before I could make it three steps, a hand wrapped gently around my wrist.

“Where you going?” Carter’s voice was low and intimate, meant just for me. His touch was warm, deliberate, like he had every right to stop me. “Need a break from me?”

I glanced down at his hand, my pulse hammering in my ears. “Bathroom,” I lied, tugging my wrist free.

I barely made it another step before I felt someone else behind me. I turned, half-expecting Carter again, but instead, it was Roger.

“Fallon.” Roger stepped closer, his voice dropping into something low and deliberate, the kind of tone that left no room for argument. “We need to talk. Now.”

Before I could respond, Carter’s voice cut through the tension from the doorway, smooth and unmistakable. “Everything good, Fallon?”

Roger turned slowly, deliberately, his jaw tight, shoulders squared. He was calm on the outside, but I knew him well enough to see the fire flickering just beneath the surface. His measured movements felt like a warning—a storm about to break.

I froze between them, my breath caught in my throat. The air around us was thick, crackling with something volatile. I could feel their gazes, sharp and unrelenting, pinning me in place like a butterfly in a display case.

“Fallon,” Roger said again, his voice dangerously calm as his eyes stayed locked on Carter. “Do you want to tell him, or should I?”

My stomach dropped, and my pulse thundered in my ears as the weight of their attention bore down on me. The walls seemed to close in, my thoughts scrambling for a way out, a way to diffuse this bomb before it went off.

“Tell me what?” Carter asked, stepping further into the hallway, his voice low and steady but laced with curiosity—and something more. He wasn’t just asking. He was daring me to answer.

I looked between them, my chest tightening as every possible response I could give died on my tongue. Roger’s patience was clearly running out, and Carter’s confidence was unshaken, his stance daring anyone to challenge him.

This wasn’t just tension. It was a collision waiting to happen, and somehow, I was the one standing in the middle of it all.

ROGER

Who the hell was this yellow motherfucker at dinner? Akil didn’t just let anybody into his house, so if this guy was here, it had to be Jade’s doing. The way she was all smiles and familiarity with him? Yeah, this had her written all over it. They knew him well enough to invite him into the circle, and I hated that. I hated him. Too smooth, too damn comfortable, and way too close to Fallon—holding her hand like he had any right. And now, they were off somewhere together?

Unacceptable.

“Somebody wanna tell me what’s going on?” the fool asked, his voice slick with arrogance, like he was the one owed answers.

“Nothing!” Fallon snapped, her voice clipped as she grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the back door. She moved fast, like she was trying to outrun the tension sparking between us, but the second we were alone, I yanked my hand free and turned on her.

“What the fuck, Fallon?” I hissed, my voice low, sharp enough to cut. I stepped closer, towering over her, my frustration boiling just under the surface.

She flinched, her eyes darting to the floor for half a second before meeting mine, her voice rushed as if trying to put out a fire. “It was Jade,” she said quickly. “She hooked it up, thinking I’m single.”

“This is the shit—” I stopped myself, raking a hand through my hair, trying to rein it in. My chest felt tight, my jaw clenched so hard it ached. I started pacing, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “Had we just told everybody—”

I didn’t finish because I couldn’t. The words caught in my throat, tangled in the mess we’d made by keeping this under wraps. The sight of that man sitting too close, holding her hand, acting like there was an opening between them—it made my blood boil. Fallon was mine, and I was sick of pretending otherwise.

“Guys, it’s time for Black Ass Elephant!” Jade’s overly cheerful voice rang out like a siren, cutting through our heated exchange. Before either of us could respond, she practically bounced over, grabbing us both by the arms with a grip that didn’t match her bubbly demeanor. “C’mon, let’s go! Seats! Now!”

Fallon shot me an apologetic look as Jade hauled us back toward the dining table, but I wasn’t feeling generous. My chest was tight with frustration, my eyes still on that dude who was now seated, looking far too comfortable for my liking. I dropped into my chair, my leg bouncing with barely restrained energy as Fallon sat beside me.

“So, how long you and Fallon been fucking?” Marz’s dumb ass asked, leaning back in his chair with that cocky grin he always wore like a shield. Bryelle casually sipped her cocktail, her eyes narrowing with interest, while Lena turned toward me, her curiosity barely concealed. Even Tone, who usually avoided getting pulled into this kind of mess, was now watching me like he expected an answer.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I shot back, my voice low.

Marz shrugged, unfazed, as always. “Man, I haven’t seen you this mad—genuinely mad—since The Great Crashout of 2016. And tonight? Your face has been screwed up ever since Carter so much as breathed in Fallon’s direction.” He gestured lazily with his drink, like he had all the time in the world. “You been watching them so hard, you didn’t even notice nobody else trying to talk to you. So, obviously—”

“We’re not fucking,” I cut him off, the words coming faster than I intended. My voice was steady, but the edge in it was impossible to miss.

Marz raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with a knowing smirk, his tone dripping with amusement. “Aight, Bill Nye,” he chuckled, his deep laugh rolling through the room like thunder.

I clenched my jaw, forcing my grip to loosen on the glass in my hand before it cracked under the pressure. “It’s not like that,” I said, my voice quieter now, deliberate, though the tightness in my chest refused to let up.

And it wasn’t a lie. Fallon and I weren’t just fucking. What we had wasn’t casual or meaningless—it was everything. I loved this woman, and I wanted everyone to know. But it wasn’t just my call to make, and Fallon hadn’t given me the green light yet. Not that I wasn’t dangerously close to saying fuck it and letting the truth spill out anyway. This whole situation was wearing me down fast.

Marz’s words had struck something raw, something I wasn’t ready to fully unpack. But as I stared ahead, trying to keep my face neutral, all I could think about was the weight of the secret we were still carrying—and how much longer I could stand being the only one shouldering it.

Marz leaned back, taking another slow sip of his drink, the smirk on his face widening. “If you say so. But your face says otherwise, my guy. You’ve been mean-mugging Carter all night like he messed up your science project. Just admit it—you’re territorial.”

“I’m not territorial,” I shot back, the words sharper than I meant, too defensive to land convincingly.

“Sure, you’re not,” Bryelle chimed in, swirling the ice in her glass, her eyes flicking between me and Marz with pointed curiosity. “You’ve just been glaring daggers at Fallon’s new friend for no reason at all. Totally normal behavior.”

Her sarcasm stung, but I refused to take the bait. Instead, I focused on steadying my breathing, keeping my voice level, even though my chest still burned.

“You’re reading too much into it,” I said, though we all knew they weren’t. My silence, my tension—it was all too loud to ignore. And Fallon wasn’t here to help me deflect.

Lena chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Y’all messy as hell.”

“Messy or not,” Tone added, his voice calm but direct, “it’s written all over you, man. Whatever you’re trying to keep locked down? It’s slipping.”

My eyes darted across the room to Fallon, her laughter ringing out as Carter leaned in, saying something too damn charming. My grip on the glass tightened, my jaw clenching involuntarily. They weren’t wrong. The longer we kept this thing hidden, the harder it was to keep my frustration in check. And the harder it was to ignore people like Carter, who kept pushing buttons I wasn’t sure I could keep from pressing.

Jade clapped her hands, her excitement cutting through the tension in the air. “Alright, y’all! It’s time for Black Ass Elephant!” she announced, practically vibrating with energy. “You know the rules—grab a number, pick a gift, and if you’re feeling bold, steal someone else’s. No hard feelings...” Her grin was wide, her eyes sparkling as she passed around tiny folded slips of paper.

I grunted, barely paying attention, my focus still locked on Fallon. Not once had she glanced my way since Jade dragged us back to the table. Meanwhile, Carter was all up in her face, looking far too comfortable.

Jade started calling out numbers, and the game began. People unwrapped gifts—bottles of liquor, candles, and the usual gag gifts that earned a few laughs. When my number was called, I stood, grabbing a heavy, neatly wrapped box from the pile. I tore into it, revealing a sleek set of whiskey glasses and a bottle of Glenlivet that was way too nice to be in a game like this.

A murmur of approval rippled through the room, but I barely acknowledged it. My gaze shifted back to Fallon, her laughter still lingering in the air. She was looking down at her plate now, her fingers lightly toying with her fork, while Carter? Carter was still looking at her, his expression too damn smug for my liking. The tension in my chest tightened, coiling like a spring. If this game didn’t wrap up soon, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep my cool.

“Damn, Roger came up!” Marz hollered, his laugh cutting through the room as he nudged Bryelle. “He about to be classy as hell at the next cookout.”

A few people chuckled, and Fallon’s lips curved into a small smile as her eyes finally met mine. For a moment, the noise in the room faded, the weight in my chest easing just slightly. But before I could hold onto it, Carter’s smooth-ass voice shattered the moment.

“I think I’ll take that,” he said, his tone dripping with arrogance as he stood, moving with a slow, deliberate swagger that set my teeth on edge. His smirk was aimed squarely at me, and every step he took toward the table felt like a challenge. He stopped in front of me, extending his hand for the gift like he was doing me a favor.

The room fell quiet, all eyes shifting between us. My grip on the bottle tightened instinctively, my body rigid as I stared back at him. The air practically buzzed with unspoken tension, and I could feel Fallon’s gaze on me, heavy and expectant, waiting to see what I’d do next.

“Damn!” Jade said, fanning herself dramatically. “Carter came to play. The rest of y’all are being too nice.”

I held his gaze for a beat longer, my fingers curling around the bottle with just enough force to keep me grounded. Then I forced a tight smile and handed it over. “Hope you enjoy it,” I said, my voice calm but clipped, each word carefully measured.

Carter took the bottle with a slow nod, his smirk firmly in place. “I’m sure I will,” he said, the arrogance in his tone making my jaw tighten all over again.

Marz, of course, couldn’t resist stirring the pot. “Oh, hell no,” he hollered, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “You just gon’ let him punk you like that, Roger?” Laughter erupted around the room, everyone eating it up like it was the punchline to some inside joke.

“It’s a game, Marz,” I said through gritted teeth, lowering myself back into my chair. My hands flexed against the armrests as I tried to keep my voice level. “Ain’t that serious.”

Marz leaned back, his grin growing wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Game or not,” he drawled, dragging it out for effect, “couldn’t be me.”

“Marz, leave it,” Fallon snapped, her voice tight as she shot him a sharp look. Her eyes flicked to me for a split second before landing on Carter, the tension in her shoulders as clear as day.

But Marz wasn’t done. He leaned closer to Bryelle, his voice cutting through the laughter and the low hum of side conversations like a blade. “Man, I’m telling you, something’s going on. Roger over here acting like he’s scared to ruffle feathers. Turning soft. Bro, gotta be love.”

The room buzzed with more laughter, light and easy, but then Carter, cool as ever, leaned back in his seat with that cocky grin that made my blood boil.

“Some men are bold,” he said, his voice calm and deliberate, each word hitting like a shot fired. His eyes flicked to me, holding for a beat before sliding to Fallon. “Take what’s ours. Some niggas…get got.”

The words hit the room like a grenade, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. The laughter died instantly, the air thick with tension as every head turned, eyes darting between me, Carter, and Fallon. It was like the room collectively held its breath, waiting to see who would make the first move.

“Ooop” Sabbie yelped from the other side of the table, her hands flying to her mouth.

“Aight now,” Akil muttered, his voice low and steady as he leaned forward, his sharp gaze locking onto Carter. “This is your first time sitting at my table, with my people, and we have fun here—but we keep it light. Don’t cross that line.”

The silence hung heavy, the unspoken warning clear in Akil’s tone. All eyes were still on us, the tension thick enough to choke on. My fists tightened under the table as I stared at Carter, the temptation to let loose warring with the need to play it cool. Fallon shifted in her seat, her hand twitching like she wanted to reach for me but didn’t.

Carter just grinned wider, leaning back like he was above it all, like he hadn’t just stepped on a live wire.

Marz, ever the instigator, leaned back with a grin, clearly enjoying the unfolding drama like it was prime entertainment. “Nah, let him keep talking,” he said, waving his drink lazily. “I wanna see where this goes.”

My chest burned, the heat spreading like a wildfire threatening to consume me as Carter leaned back, cool as ever, sipping from his whiskey like he didn’t have a care in the world. Too cool. Too comfortable. And the fact that he was still sitting next to Fallon, still glancing her way, only fanned the flames. My fists tightened under the table, the strain building with every second.

“You good, Roger?” Tone asked, his voice dripping with faux concern as he leaned forward slightly. “You look like you might wanna say something.”

I took a slow, deliberate breath, forcing my jaw to unclench. “I’m good,” I said evenly, though the sharpness in my voice betrayed the restraint I was clinging to. The room had gone quieter, and I could feel every set of eyes on me, the tension so thick it felt like a physical weight pressing down on my shoulders. Everyone was waiting—for me to react, to snap, to let the fire inside me burn through the carefully constructed mask I was holding in place.

Carter smirked, his expression so damn smug it took everything I had not to let the storm brewing inside me spill over. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his tone light but laced with mockery. “You sure?” he asked, his voice so casual it was maddening. “Wouldn’t want there to be any misunderstandings.”

I leaned forward slightly, just enough to hold his gaze, my voice dropping low, steady, and measured. “Trust me,” I said, letting the weight of my words hang between us, “there’s no misunderstanding.”

“The Great Crash Out of 2016,” Tone muttered under his breath, taking a drink like he was having a flashback, the memory alone was enough to make him need it. His eyes had that faraway look, like he was reliving it.

Akil cleared his throat, rising slowly, his presence alone commanding attention. He scanned the room, his tone firm as he spoke. “Aight, that’s enough. Let’s chill the fuck out. It’s a game.”

But then Carter’s hand slid around the back of Fallon’s chair, his fingers resting casually near her shoulder, like he belonged there. My jaw tightened as my eyes zeroed in on the move, every muscle in my body coiling tight. Fallon stiffened immediately, her back straight as a board, but she didn’t brush him off. She didn’t lean away, either.

As it turned out, Carter wasn’t as stupid as he looked. He’d read between the lines when we were over by the bathroom, and now, he wasn’t just testing boundaries. He was testing me.

The air felt heavier, every sound in the room fading except for the rush of blood in my ears. I could feel Marz watching me from across the table, his grin stretching wider, pure amusement flickering in his eyes. He nudged Bryelle, whispering something that made her snort quietly, and I knew this was exactly the kind of mess he thrived on. Drama was his oxygen, and tonight, he was getting it in spades.

My gaze stayed locked on Carter’s hand, my chest tightening with the kind of pressure that begged for release. The room might’ve been playing along with Akil’s attempt to de-escalate, but the challenge was still there, hanging thick in the air like smoke. Carter wasn’t letting this go. And the longer he kept pushing, the harder it was for me to hold back.

Carter, though? He was deliberate, too deliberate, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. His hand stayed where it was, fingers brushing the fabric of Fallon’s shirt as if daring me to do something about it. He wasn’t slick—he wanted a reaction, and I was trying like hell not to give it to him.

My chest burned with the effort of keeping myself in check, my fingers gripping the edge of the table so hard I thought the wood might splinter under my hands.

“Yo, Carter,” Marz drawled, leaning forward with that shit-eating grin he always wore when he smelled chaos brewing. “You real comfortable over there, huh?”

Carter smirked, his hand still resting casually on the back of Fallon’s chair. “Just enjoying the company,” he said smoothly, his tone so easy it made my teeth grind. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Akil cleared his throat, stepping in again like the peacekeeper he always had to be. “Alright, let’s get back to the game before y’all take this somewhere it don’t need to go.”

But I wasn’t hearing him anymore. My focus was locked on Carter—the smugness in his smirk, the deliberate way he was playing this out, as if he’d studied exactly how to push me. Fallon shifted in her seat, finally pulling her chair just enough to break contact, but the damage was already done. He’d gotten under my skin, buried himself deep, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

I took a slow breath, trying to steady the fire burning in my chest, but every second I stared at him made it harder to hold my ground. Carter thought he was playing a game. He had no idea how close he was to losing.

FALLON

“Something going on between you and Urkel that I need to know about?” Carter’s voice was low, a whisper that slid into my ear and wrapped itself around my spine. My breath hitched, and I stiffened, his audacity catching me off guard. Before I could fire back, he leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing my skin.

“Excuse me?” I snapped, turning to meet his gaze, my irritation directed at both his question and the nickname he’d just given my Bunny.

“Matter of fact,” he continued, brushing off my protest like it was nothing, “don’t even answer that, ’cause it don’t matter. I came here for you, and if I gotta take you from him to make that happen, it’s nothing.”

The nerve. The sheer, unfiltered nerve. He pulled back slowly, his eyes locking on mine with a heat that had my pulse pounding in all the wrong ways. Carter didn’t just have confidence—he had that BDE, the kind that made it hard to think straight, the kind that dared you to challenge it. He didn’t just take up space; he dominated it, crushed the air out of the room until you had no choice but to notice him.

And damn it, Jade. Sitting right across from me, grinning like a cat who’d caught the canary, completely oblivious—or worse, indifferent—to the storm brewing inside me. She thought she’d nailed it. She thought she’d brought me exactly what I wanted.

And maybe—just maybe—she had, once. But things were different now.

Because I didn’t just like Roger. I loved him. The kind of love that wasn’t loud or flashy, but steady and certain, grounding me in a way I didn’t think was possible. The kind of love that made me feel safe, cared for, chosen. And this? This wasn’t that.

“I’m not something for anyone to take. I’m not property,” I said firmly, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

Carter raised his hands slightly, as if to pacify me, but the heat in his gaze didn’t waver. “My bad,” he said, his voice smooth, unbothered. “I didn’t mean it like that… but what I’m saying, Fallon, is whatever you got going on? Consider deading it for me.”

I raised an eyebrow, my annoyance bubbling up again. “And why would I do that?”

He leaned in again, his tone softening, but his confidence unwavering. “I know we don’t know each other like that, but I’ve been waiting—patiently—to be in your presence, to get to know you. And now that I got the chance? I’m taking it, sweetheart. I don’t plan on letting up.”

The weight of his words settled over me, my thoughts spinning as his gaze stayed locked on mine. He didn’t care about the complications, about Roger, about the mess this would create. He saw something he wanted, and he was determined to take it.

But the thing was—this wasn’t up to him.

I glanced across the room at Roger again, his jaw set tight, his eyes shadowed with something that looked a lot like hurt. My stomach twisted.

“Fallon,” Roger’s voice cut across the table, sharp and deliberate, slicing through the murmur of conversation like a whip. “What are you two whispering about down there? It’s rude. Share with the class.”

I froze, my fork hovering mid-air, my breath catching in my throat. “Nothing, Roger,” I said quickly, my tone coming out more defensive than I meant.

“Yeah, Roger,” Carter chimed in, leaning back in his chair with a grin so smug it could’ve lit the whole room on fire. “Matter of fact, go home, Roger.”

The laughter that followed was awkward and thin, like no one could quite decide if they wanted to join in or brace for what might come next. My cheeks burned, and I shot Roger a pleading look, silently begging him not to take the bait. But I could already see it—the tight clench of his jaw, the way his shoulders squared. The calm, measured man I knew so well was slipping, and I didn’t know whether to be nervous or impressed.

“How do you know Jade?” Lena cut in, clearly trying to break the tension. Her question hung in the air, redirecting the spotlight to Carter.

He turned to her, flashing all his charm and swagger like it was second nature. “Akil and I worked together for years at the firehouse,” he said smoothly, gesturing toward Akil, who grinned like a proud matchmaker. “I’ve had the pleasure of meeting his lovely fiancée a few times, and we followed each other on Instagram. That’s where I saw some pictures of Fallon… and the rest of y’all.”

His grin widened as he leaned forward slightly, his tone casual but laced with intention. “Akil and Jade have been trying to help me lock it in with Fallon since I first asked about her. They know I’d be good for her, and she’d be good for me.”

The table fell silent, all eyes shifting between Carter, me, and Roger like they were watching a car crash in slow motion. My stomach twisted into knots as Roger’s gaze darkened, his calm exterior replaced by something far colder. The tension between the two men was palpable, crackling in the air like a live wire, and all I could think was: Jade, what the hell have you done?

I glanced at her, but she was too busy looking delighted with herself, completely oblivious to the storm she’d just unleashed. One thing about Jade, she always missed when things were getting weird.

“I don’t need anyone to decide what’s good for me,” I said firmly, cutting through the silence. My voice sounded stronger than I felt, but I didn’t care. “And Carter? You might’ve misread this whole situation.”

His smirk faltered for half a second before he recovered, leaning back in his chair as if my words hadn’t stung. “Did I, Fallon? Or are you just scared to admit what we both know?”

My stomach dropped, my pulse spiking as Roger’s gaze snapped to mine. “That right, Jade? You did this?” His voice was calm, too calm, but his eyes burned with questions I wasn’t ready to answer.

Before I could even think of a response, Jade jumped in, completely oblivious to the landmine she’d just stepped on. “Oh my God, yes! I knew they’d hit it off. Don’t they look so good together? And they’ve been in such deep conversation over here—I think it’s going really well,” she said, gesturing to Carter and me like we were Barbie and Ken fresh out of the box.

The table fell silent, the weight of everyone’s eyes pressing down on me like a spotlight I didn’t want. My skin prickled as Roger leaned forward slightly, his voice low and controlled but vibrating with something dangerous. “Fallon, I’m not doing this shit. Tell them.”

My mouth opened, but no words came out. The tension in the room was suffocating, and all I could think was: This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. Not like this.

Carter, meanwhile, leaned back in his chair like he owned the room, his smirk glued in place, radiating smugness. He wasn’t just confident; he was sure.

“Tell us what?” Sabbie asked, her curiosity cutting through the silence like a scalpel.

The room seemed to hold its collective breath, every eye bouncing between me, Roger, and Carter. My heart raced as I glanced at Roger, his quiet intensity daring me to speak, and then at Carter, whose bold arrogance made it clear he thought he already had this in the bag.

The silence stretched like a taut wire, ready to snap at any moment. My thoughts scrambled for a way to break it, but the words were caught somewhere between my throat and my pounding heart.

“Fallon?” Roger prompted again, his voice tightening, his patience fraying with every second.

Carter crossed his arms and leaned further back, his smirk somehow growing wider, more insufferable. “Go ahead, sweetheart. We’re all ears.”

Sweetheart? Oh, hell no.

My mouth moved before my brain could stop it. “You’re out of line, Carter.”

The smirk faltered, just for a second, before sliding back into place. “Am I?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice steady now, rising over the tension. “You are.”

The table shifted, murmurs rippling through the group like an undercurrent, but I didn’t waver. My eyes locked on Carter. “This isn’t your business. It was never your business.”

His smirk faltered for half a second before returning full force. “I’m out of line? For being honest?” His eyes narrowed slightly, his tone softening into something almost dangerous. “Or is it because your little secret’s about to come out?”

The room felt too small, the air too thick. I glanced at Jade, hoping for backup, but she was staring at me with a mixture of confusion and dawning realization. Great.

“Secret?” Lena asked, her tone playful but edged with curiosity. “Now this sounds juicy.”

Roger stood, the scrape of his chair against the floor cutting through the buzz of murmurs around the table. His movements were slow, deliberate, as he came toward me. “You want me to say it, Fallon? Fine. Everyone, Fallon and I—”

“Roger, don’t,” I blurted, panic surging through me. But it was too late. “This is not how I want to do it”

“We’ve been seeing each other for months,” Roger said, his voice steady but his eyes locked on Carter, daring him to react. “So back the fuck up Carter. you don’t have a chance.”

The table erupted in gasps and awkward laughter, and Jade’s hand flew to her mouth as she looked between Roger, me, and Carter. “Wait, what?”

Carter stood then, his posture loose but his energy crackling like a live wire. He pointed gun fingers at Roger as he spoke, his smirk oozing arrogance. “A chance? Man, I don’t need a chance. Ain’t no competition here, TJ Henderson. Even if she don’t see that today, it’s only a matter of time. You don’t even know what to do with a woman like Fallon, nerd.”

“Nah, TJ Henderson is crazy,” Tone muttered, shaking his head as a few nervous chuckles rippled around the table.

I shot up from my chair, my pulse hammering in my ears, my voice cutting through the rising tension. “Stop it. Both of you.”

But they ignored me, their eyes locked in a silent, unyielding battle. The kind that promised things were about to spiral completely out of control.

Roger didn’t flinch, his calm unraveling into something sharp and dangerous. “She’s with me, not you,” he said, his tone deliberate, slicing through Carter’s bravado like a blade. “I saw when you DM’d her back then.”

He leaned forward, his gaze locked on Carter, mockery dripping from every syllable. “‘Hey Fallon, you’re so beautiful, would love to take you out.’”

Roger scoffed, his lip curling as he delivered the final blow. “Yeah, we laughed at that shit. And then we fucked for the rest of the night. I’ve still got the marks on my back to prove it. So, tell me, who doesn’t know what to do with her?”

The room erupted into a stunned silence. Somewhere, a fork clattered onto a plate, and I swore I heard someone gasp. My throat tightened as I glanced around, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it echoed in the quiet.

“The Great 2016 Crash Out,” Tone, Marz, and Marquise mumbled in unison, like it was an inside joke everyone at the table but me was in on.

Huh?

“Hold on,” Akil’s voice cut through, his hands raised like a referee stepping into the middle of a prizefight. “Can we take a breath here?”

But the room wasn’t ready for peace.

“Anyway,” Lena’s voice rang out, her curiosity slicing through the tension. “How long have y’all been together?” Her wide eyes bounced between Roger and me like she was waiting for a juicy confession.

“Eight months,” Roger said, his answer firm, unflinching. His eyes stayed locked on Carter, daring him to make a move. “This isn’t some hookup. That’s my woman, and I love her. And she loves me.”

“This wasn’t the plan, Roger,” I hissed, leaning closer, my voice low but tight with frustration.

“Fuck it,” he said, shrugging with infuriating nonchalance. “You said we’d do it at dinner. We’re at dinner. It’s out now.”

And then he sat down like he’d just dropped the mic, folding his arms as if the matter were settled. But this wasn’t a victory—it was chaos.

The table buzzed with murmurs, everyone processing Roger’s declaration while Carter sat back in his chair, his jaw tight but his smirk still lingering like he wasn’t done yet.

I looked around the room, at the stunned faces, at the tension thick enough to cut with a knife, and my chest tightened. This was supposed to be controlled, planned—on my terms. Instead, it felt like everything was unraveling in slow motion, and I was powerless to stop it.

“That’s the type of nigga you want, Fallon?” Carter chuckled, his voice low and menacing, the sound curling around the edges of the room like smoke. He leaned back in his chair, his arms draped lazily over the backrest, exuding a confidence that was equal parts intoxicating and infuriating. “Can’t be.”

The words hit like a slap, and the heat crawled up my neck as every pair of eyes turned to me again. I felt the weight of Carter’s arrogance, the simmering intensity in Roger’s gaze, and the room’s collective anticipation pressing down on me like a lead blanket. My heart pounded in my chest, my throat tightening with the words I couldn’t seem to find.

Roger, however, didn’t miss a beat. “She’s not with a nigga,” he said, his voice calm but firm, a storm brewing beneath his steady tone. “She’s with a man. A man who loves her, who tends to her every need before she can even ask. A man who challenges her, supports her, and makes sure she doesn’t need or want for anything. She’s with me.”

The table erupted in a mix of reactions—murmurs, chuckles, wide-eyed stares—but it was Bryelle who broke through with her usual sharp wit.

“I hear that,” she said, nodding at Roger like she was reluctantly impressed. “Talk yo shit then, Braxton.” She couldn’t resist throwing in a playful jab, her grin equal parts teasing and genuine.

Carter’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he locked eyes with Roger.

“She can keep playing it safe for now,” Carter said, his voice smooth but loaded, “but when she’s ready… I’ll be here.” He leaned back, his confidence unwavering, and I couldn’t figure out if he was really that infatuated with me or if he just wanted to win this public argument. Either way, he was taking it way too far for someone I’d only met tonight.

“You can keep talking, Carter,” Roger said, his voice steady but ice-cold. “But this isn’t a game. She’s already mine. Eight months in, forever to go. This is not a game you’re gonna win, so back down.”

The tension at the table was suffocating, every word adding fuel to a fire that was quickly getting out of control. My chest tightened as I tried to catch my breath, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“Fallon?” Jade’s voice broke through the chaos, small but insistent, her wide eyes fixed on me. “Is this true?”

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. My brain scrambled, searching for anything—anything—to say that could defuse the situation, but I came up empty. The weight of everyone’s stares pressed down on me, suffocating.

Before I could answer, Carter sliced through the thick silence. “See, this is what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice rising as he gestured toward Roger. “You’re wasting your time with a dude who doesn’t even respect you enough to let you decide how to handle your own business. Now you’re getting put on the spot, in front of everybody.”

His words hit like a slap, the room buzzing with murmurs as the tension climbed higher. My heart sank, heat crawling up my neck as all eyes bounced between Roger, Carter, and me. This wasn’t just a public argument anymore—this was a spectacle.

Roger stood then, slow and deliberate, his jaw tight as he met Carter’s gaze head-on. “The only reason she’s in this position is because you won’t back off. Fallon doesn’t owe you an explanation, and she sure as hell doesn’t need you speaking for her.”

“And yet here you are,” Carter shot back, his smirk gone, his tone sharp. “Doing the same thing you’re accusing me of.”

The room crackled with tension, the kind that felt one second away from boiling over. My voice felt trapped in my throat, but I couldn’t let this go on any longer.

I stood abruptly, my chair nearly toppling over. “Enough!” I shouted, my voice slicing through the noise like a whip. The room fell silent, and every eye turned to me.

But as I looked between Roger and Carter, my heart sinking, I realized something else entirely.

This wasn’t just about them. This was about me. And for the first time tonight, I wasn’t sure who I was madder at—Roger, Carter, or myself.

I took a deep breath, steadying the tremble in my hands. My voice was calm but firm as I turned to Carter first. “Carter, relax. You’ve had a crush on me for a while, cool. But here’s the thing—you don’t know me. We just met tonight. So maybe don’t sit there making assumptions about me or my relationship.”

His cocky posture faltered, just for a second, as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Good.

Then I turned to Roger, my glare sharp enough to cut steel. “And Roger... yes, we’re together. Eight months, like you said. We planned to tell everyone tonight—planned.” My voice was steady, each word cutting like a blade.

I took a step closer, locking eyes with him. “But you couldn’t wait, could you? You had to turn this into a pissing contest. What was the point of all that?” My tone carried the weight of my frustration, the question hanging in the air like a challenge.

Roger’s jaw tightened, his gaze unwavering but softened by something I couldn’t place—remorse, maybe, or just the realization he’d gone too far. But he didn’t respond, and the silence between us only made my irritation grow.

“Do you even realize how ridiculous this all is?” I added, my voice dropping lower but no less firm. “This wasn’t supposed to be about proving something. It was supposed to be about us. And now?” I gestured to the room full of wide-eyed onlookers. “It’s turned into this mess.”

He started to respond, but I cut him off with a raised hand. “Jade brought Carter here thinking I was available. But no, I’m not single. Far from it.” My voice dropped, the sharpness in my tone landing like a punch.

“Well, fuck…” Akil muttered, rubbing Jade’s shoulder. She looked stricken, clearly feeling bad but knowing she hadn’t done anything wrong.

I turned back to Roger, my frustration spilling over. “And what the fuck was that, Bunny? Mocking him, throwing our business out there like it’s a game?”

“Bunny?” All the guys at the table chorused at once, their expressions shifting from shock to curiosity in an instant.

That was all it took to shatter the tension—Marquise burst out laughing so hard he nearly choked, wheezing as he slapped the table. “Yo, Fallon,” he said between gasps, “whatever you got that’s making these men act like this and have nicknames like Bunny, I need you to patent it, bottle that shit, Sis. You’d make a killing!”

The laughter rippled around the table, a mix of genuine amusement and relief as the mood began to shift. Even Akil, who had been sitting stiffly like he was bracing for impact, cracked a grin, shaking his head.

“Marquise, shut up,” I snapped, but I couldn’t help the faint smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. The absurdity of the situation wasn’t lost on me, even if I wanted to crawl under the table and disappear.

Roger, however, didn’t share the humor. His jaw tightened, his gaze cutting briefly to Marquise before settling back on Carter, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease. Carter, for his part, leaned back in his chair, his cocky smirk intact as if the entire scene had gone exactly how he planned.

“Don’t be mad, Bunny,” Bryelle teased, winking at Roger. “It’s a cute nickname—kinda suits you.”

Roger’s glare snapped to her, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting the urge to snap back or laugh. I pressed my fingers to my temples, exhaling slowly.

Roger stood then, his expression a mess of frustration and desperation. “Fallon, come on. I just—”

“Save it,” I said, cutting him off with a raised hand. My voice was quieter now, but the fire in my chest burned just as fiercely. “We’ll talk later.”

I glanced around the table, my gaze skimming over the stunned faces, the awkward smiles, and the lingering tension that clung to the air. “Merry Christmas, y’all.”

Without waiting for a response, I grabbed my bag and turned to leave. My steps were quick, fueled by adrenaline and a desperation to escape, but my heel caught on the edge of the rug, and I stumbled. Heat crept up my neck, but I didn’t stop. I straightened, ignored the murmurs behind me, and kept going, each step feeling heavier than the last.

The cold air hit me like a slap as I stepped outside, sharp and bracing. I gripped my bag, breathing in the silence, desperate for anything but the tension I’d just left behind.

I exhaled slowly, glancing back at the glowing windows. The muffled noise inside carried on, a relentless reminder that while I’d escaped the chaos, the consequences were far from over.

ROGER

It wasn’t going down like this. My girl wasn’t walking out on me over some fool neither of us gave a damn about. Whatever his obsession was with Fallon, it wasn’t my problem. Fallon wasn’t just some pretty face on social media—she was mine. She was the woman who cried on my shoulder when she thought she was about to lose her grandmother. The woman who trusted me to look over her slide decks before big presentations. The woman who told me how she got that scar on her knee when she was nine. She was the woman who loved me, who made love to me until we were both spent. I wasn’t losing her over this bullshit.

Fuck that. And fuck Carter.

“Fallon!” I called, stepping onto the driveway, the cold night air biting at my skin. She was already halfway to the street, her arms crossed tight against her chest, her pace quick and determined. But she didn’t stop.

“Go back inside!” she yelled over her shoulder, her voice sharp, cracking just enough to betray how shaken she really was.

“No!” I shot back, my tone firm, unyielding. In a few long strides, I caught up to her, my hand closing gently but firmly around her wrist. I spun her around, the motion fluid but deliberate, forcing her to face me.

“Roger—”

“Don’t,” I interrupted, cutting her off as I stepped closer. Backing her up until her body pressed against the side of a parked car, the cool metal against her back a stark contrast to the heat radiating between us. My hand braced against the roof of the car, caging her in but careful not to trap her.

“We talk this out. We don’t walk away from each other, Fallon. That’s not what we do,” I said, my voice steady but firm. “Don’t let some stranger come between what we’ve been building.”

“Roger, this is so embarrassing,” she said, her voice cracking just enough to betray the weight of it all. Her hands clenched at her sides, her frustration spilling out in a rush. “This is what I was trying to avoid. What’s everyone gonna say now?”

“Fuck everybody!” I shot back without hesitation.

Her eyes widened, shock flickering across her face as her breath hitched. “Bunny!” she gasped, the sound soft but sharp, her back pressing deeper into the car as if she needed the stability.

“Bunny ain’t here right now,” I said, my voice carrying more weight than I expected even from myself. I adjusted my glasses, the motion automatic, almost clinical, but her gaze flicked down to my lips like a reflex, lingering just long enough to tell me everything I needed to know.

She wasn’t just shaken—she was turned on.

That damn glasses kink of hers—the one she developed since being with me. It was ridiculous and flattering all at once, the way her eyes always trailed to them, like she couldn’t help herself. Like the smallest adjustment I made sent her mind somewhere filthy.

“This is Dr. Roger Casen,” I added, my tone quieter now, but charged with the kind of energy that left no room for misinterpretation. “And I’m not about to let you run from me.”

“Dr. Casen…” she breathed, her voice soft and unsteady, and I knew—if I checked her panties right now, they’d be soaked. She could barely hide it, but this wasn’t the time to get distracted. This was serious.

“Look,” I began, my tone softening just enough to cut through the tension, “I know I lost my cool in there. But can you really blame me? How would you feel if some woman was all in my face, testing you like she could take me away from you?”

Her lips parted, her breathing uneven, but she didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched between us, broken only by the distant sound of laughter spilling from the house. Her eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought she might push me away. But then she sighed, her hands coming to rest lightly on my chest.

“You really think I’d let that happen?” she asked softly, her voice still tinged with frustration but warmer now, her words laced with the kind of quiet possessiveness that sent a jolt through me. “Roger, you’re mine. I’d cut a bitch.”

A low chuckle rumbled from my chest as I leaned in closer, my hands braced on the car on either side of her, trapping her without touching her.

“Exactly. So now you know how I feel.” My voice dropped, rougher now. “You think I’m wrong, Fallon?”

She stared at me, the fire in her gaze still burning, but there was something softer behind it now. Her shoulders eased, her body melting just slightly against mine, and she sighed again, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite herself.

“You’re an idiot,” she whispered, but there was no bite to her words this time.

“I’m literally not. You’ve seen my IQ test, Baby Love,” I murmured with a grin. “And you know damn well who you belong to.”

Her eyes flickered with that familiar fire, the warmth between us growing as she leaned in closer, her body fully softening against mine now.

“Don’t get cocky, Bunny,” she whispered, but the way her lips ghosted over mine betrayed just how much she was already giving in.

“I wasn’t trying to disrespect you in there,” she said, her voice quieter now. Her eyes dropped to the ground before slowly lifting back to mine.

“It’s all in the open now,” I said, tilting her chin up so she couldn’t look anywhere but at me. My thumb brushed along her jaw, firm but careful. “So nobody else can make the mistake of thinking my woman is on the market.” My voice dipped lower, heat simmering in every word. “I’m not as big as Carter, and I don’t have tattoos, but I don’t back down. I’m not a punk, Fallon. I had to let him know—hands off my woman.”

Her eyes widened slightly, her lips parting like she wanted to say something, but instead, a small smile crept onto her face. “Alright, macho man,” she teased, rolling her eyes with just enough sass to make my chest tighten. But she leaned closer, her body betraying her words.

I grinned, unable to resist her pull, my hands sliding down to cup her ass and pulling her firmly against me. Her breath hitched, her body tensing as I squeezed, holding her exactly where I wanted her.

“You think I’m playing?” I murmured, my lips brushing against her ear before my teeth found the soft curve of her neck. I bit down just enough to leave my mark, a reminder she wouldn’t be able to ignore.

I slid one hand to lift her right leg, pushing her up against me so she could feel just how hard I was, how much control she had over me—and what she was about to get when we left this Christmas Dinner.

Her laugh came out shaky, breathless, melting into a soft moan as her hands gripped my shoulders for balance. “Roger, you’re—”

“I know y’all not about to start fucking in my driveway,” Akil’s voice boomed from the front door, cutting through the moment like a wrecking ball. “Bring your PDA-loving asses back in the house before I call the homies at Westonberry PD for public indecency—‘cause somebody got they dick out in front of my house.”

Fallon’s face turned crimson as her hands flew to her mouth, her laughter muffled but uncontrollable. I sighed, running a hand over my face before glancing over my shoulder. Akil stood there, arms crossed, his smirk so wide it could’ve split his face in half. He was enjoying this way too much.

“We’re coming,” I said, my tone clipped, though I couldn’t stop the twitch of a grin threatening to break through.

“You already almost did,” Akil shot back, his laughter echoing into the night as he turned on his heel. “Hurry up. Jade’s about to lose her mind waiting to start the next round of Black Ass Elephant. Y’all out here fucking up my baby’s event with all this drama. Hell, I oughta put y’all out.”

With that, he disappeared back inside, leaving Fallon and me standing there in the cool night air, her laughter bubbling over as I shook my head. “He really doesn’t know how to mind his business,” I muttered, but even I couldn’t help chuckling now.

Fallon looked up at me, her eyes still bright with amusement, and nudged my chest lightly. “You think he’s mad enough to actually call the cops?”

I smirked, tugging her closer again, just enough to whisper in her ear. “I don’t care if he does. You’re worth the fine.”

Fallon buried her face in my chest, her shoulders shaking with laughter. I kissed the top of her head, my hand still on her ass as I whispered, “This isn’t over.”

Her laugh softened, her arms wrapping around me as she pulled me closer. “It never is with you, Bunny.”

And with that, we made our way back inside, the heat between us still smoldering, ready to reignite at the first chance we got.

FALLON

“So tell us everything!” Jade demanded, her tone hovering between playful and annoyed. She sat at the table, arms folded like a brat who’d just been denied dessert. Across from her, Roger and I sat side by side, with Carter lounging smugly in Roger’s previous seat, chewing like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Jade pressed, her pout deepening.

“It was my fault,” Roger said, cutting in before I could answer. His tone was calm and steady, like he’d practiced this moment in his head. “At first, I didn’t want to make things weird. Thought it might throw off the group dynamic.”

“Man, you see me and my baby out here,” Marz said, throwing an arm around Bryelle. She rolled her eyes but didn’t push him away. “Ain’t shit changed in the group.”

“Actually,” Akil interjected, scratching the back of his head, “I did say once I hoped nobody would start pairing off and messing with the vibe of the group.”

Jade whipped toward him, wide-eyed. “Wait, what? You actually said that?”

“I mean… yeah,” Akil admitted with a shrug. “Didn’t want this turning into some couples’ retreat situation. What’s next—Tone and Sabbie?” He laughed, shaking his head. “Y’all just out here doing anything.”

“Okay, first of all, we’re eight months in,” I said, my voice slicing through the conversation. “And second, this isn’t going anywhere. So, whatever dynamic you were worried about? Get over it.” I crossed my arms, daring anyone to challenge me.

Jade leaned back in her chair, her lips pursed like she was chewing on my words. “Okay, fine. But, Fallon, eight months? Do you know how much drama we could’ve skipped if you’d just told us?”

Roger exhaled sharply. “We were just trying to figure things out for ourselves before bringing anyone else into it. We know this is an opinionated group.”

Carter chuckled from his stolen seat, the sound low and grating. “Figuring things out? Sounds like you’re still working on it.”

My patience snapped like an over-stretched rubber band. I turned to him, my glare sharp. “You know, Carter, you’re an outsider here. You really need to chill.”

His smirk only widened, infuriatingly smug. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I just call it like I see it.”

The table fell silent, every pair of eyes bouncing between me, Roger, and Carter like they were watching a match point in a tennis game. Under the table, Roger’s hand landed on my knee, his touch a silent plea to calm down. But instead of soothing me, it stoked the fire burning in my chest.

Carter was too much.

Jade cleared her throat, her tone overly bright as she tried to cut through the tension. “Okay, so... are you guys gonna be all lovey-dovey now? Or can we still count on Fallon for her usual sarcastic, single energy at these things? Because the jokes she’s let off trying to cover up y’all’s relationship have been great.”

I softened, shaking my head with a small laugh. “Jade, I’ve always had sarcastic energy, and it’s not going anywhere. Don’t worry—I’m still me. Just... with a plus-one.”

“That’s all we needed to hear,” Marz said, raising his glass with an easy grin. “Welcome to the club.”

“Cheers to the friendship and chaos of this group. Wouldn’t want to do life with nobody else,” Tone added, lifting his glass high.

“Cheers!” everyone echoed, clinking glasses together—everyone except Carter, who kept eating like he wasn’t even part of the group. Because he wasn’t. And after tonight, there was no chance he ever would be.

“Carter, sorry it ain’t worked out for you, my boy. Maybe pick Lena,” Marz teased, earning a round of laughter from the table.

Carter paused mid-chew, his jaw tightening just slightly before his eyes flicked to me. He didn’t say a word, but the look lingered, heavy and deliberate, like a message only I was meant to hear.

I’m coming to get you.

Then, just as quickly, he smirked and went back to his food, unbothered and cool as ever. But me? My hand instinctively pressed to my chest, my pulse racing. What the hell was that? Did I just hear his thoughts?

“Shut up, Marz,” Lena shot back, rolling her eyes. “You don’t know what I got going on.”

“Better not be another secret relationship at this table,” Akil quipped, grinning.

The laughter rippled around us, the sharp tension easing into something lighter, but Carter’s presence clung to me like a shadow. I glanced at him one last time, catching the weight of his unspoken words, the smirk that now felt more calculating than amused.

Whatever this was—this thread of tension tying Roger, Carter, and me together—it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

CARTER

Springtime in Westonberry always hit just right—sunshine warm enough to kiss your skin without burning it, and a breeze cool enough to remind you why you loved this time of year. And, today? Today was perfect. Not just because of the weather, but because me and my brother, Cartier, were finally standing on the pavement of our dream: the grand opening of C&C Car Wash.

This wasn’t just some overnight success story. We’d hustled for this. Started out grinding with mobile car washes—just the two of us, rolling up to high-end clients with nothing but a van full of supplies and a mindset to make it happen. Word spread fast when you knew how to treat cars and clients right.

Next thing you know, we had more calls than hours in a day. That’s when we brought in family—people we could trust to put in the same kind of work we did. Then we hired a couple outsiders to keep up with the demand, stretching our service across counties. And now here we were. Brick and mortar, baby. First of many.

The lot was alive—music thumping loud enough to rival the sound of spray guns and vacuums. Cars were lined up, some going through the automated system, others getting the VIP detailing treatment. Employees were hard at work while the crowd vibed, sipping drinks, catching up, soaking in the energy.

My boy Ant had pulled up with his crew, and as always, D-Truth’s music was the soundtrack. You couldn’t host anything worth talking about without playing the hottest rapper out, and D-Truth was Ant’s little brother, so it only made sense.

“Twins out here really making something shake,” Ant said, dapping me up first before turning to Cartier.

Cartier leaned into the dap, his grin sharp as ever. “Appreciate that seed money, Ant. Startup cash went a long way.”

“You know me,” Ant said, smirking just enough to flex his bottom grill. “If it makes dollars and sense, I’m all in. And one thing I know about the Adeyemi Twins? Y’all work. Ain’t too many out here who know how to stack paper and keep it moving like y’all.”

I chuckled, my confidence sliding into my tone like a knife through butter. “Yeah, well, we gon’ flip that in no time and hand it back—with interest.”

Ant nodded, his gaze steady, his belief in us clear. “I believe that.”

Moments like this? They made the grind worth it. Every late night, every early morning, every ounce of sweat poured into making this dream real. Now, here we were—the sun blazing, music shaking the pavement, and success standing right in front of us. And this? This was just the start.

“Damn, Westonberry got some fine-ass women,” DeShawn said, strolling up with a grin as slick as motor oil.

Reaper trailed a few steps behind him, his eyes glued to the ground like he was sidestepping landmines. Meanwhile, DeShawn was already on his bullshit, his gaze bouncing from woman to woman like he was drafting a scouting report.

“I wouldn’t know,” Reaper muttered. “I only got eyes for Niecey.” The way he said her name, firm but soft, carried the kind of conviction you didn’t question. That man was carved out of stone for everyone else, but for her? He might as well have been made of cotton candy.

It surprised me she wasn’t out here with him, but that just meant they had other business to handle—business he didn’t want her exposed to. I couldn’t blame him for being protective, considering how they met.

I mean, the man married her after meeting her as a hostage in a bank robbery he was pulling. Victim to wife. Willingly. Love does some wild shit, huh? But nobody brought that story up. Reaper might’ve gone soft when it came to Niecey, but his name wasn’t Reaper because he liked gardening. There was a reputation behind it, and none of us were about to test it.

DeShawn, on the other hand, had none of that discipline. He was out here wilding, trying and failing to lock down a number. I’d seen him take so many Ls I’d lost count. One time he got curved so bad the slap was louder than the music.

I smirked, glancing at Reaper. Tension rolled off him in waves, even as he tried to make himself invisible. Dude wasn’t just avoiding attention; he was ducking it like it might cost him his life. Meanwhile, DeShawn couldn’t stop drawing a target on his back with every slick line he threw out. One wouldn’t load the clip, and the other couldn’t hit the damn target.

“Y’all good?” I called out, cutting through the awkward energy hanging between them.

Reaper just grunted, keeping his eyes on the ground like it owed him something. DeShawn, though, turned to me with a shrug and a shameless grin. “You know how it is, C. You miss every shot you don’t take.”

“Yeah, well, maybe stop aiming at the impossible ones,” I shot back, my tone easy but loaded.

DeShawn laughed like I’d just told him something worth quoting. “Ain’t no such thing as impossible, bro. Just timing.”

I shook my head, letting it slide. He could keep swinging and missing all day if he wanted to. I was halfway through a laugh when hers cut through the noise like a melody I hadn’t heard in forever but, recognized instantly. Stopped me dead in my tracks.

Fallon.

That laugh dragged me right back to the last time I saw her—at that messy-ass Holiday dinner Akil invited me to, talking about, “I’m bout to introduce you to your future wife.” Bullshit. Instead, I walked into a secret lover’s triangle circus.

First time I skipped out on my own family’s event, only to end up in the middle of somebody else’s drama. But I didn’t sweat it. That’s not my style. While Neil deGrasse Tyson over there thought he had me playing checkers, he didn’t realize I was on chess. And one thing about me? I don’t lose.

“Fallon!” I called out, my voice slicing through the music.

Her head turned, eyes scanning until they locked on me. For a second, she froze, her expression shifting to wide-eyed recognition. I stood there like I owned the moment—feet planted wide as I leaned up on my QX80, arms crossed against my chest. Fresh lineup, crisp plain white Versace tee, Louis Vuitton shorts, and brand-new Jays. I didn’t need to flex; the energy spoke for itself.

She hesitated, her gaze sweeping me up and down, trying to decide her next move. But I already knew what she’d do. She came to me, like I knew she would. And as she walked, the crowd shifted, parting like they knew this moment wasn’t for them. This was between me and her. Only us.

Fuck. She was even more beautiful up close. Instagram couldn’t do her justice—not the way her deep brown skin glowed under the sun, or how her thick lips curved just enough to make me lose my train of thought. She was a walking masterpiece, and seeing her like this? In real time? She was even more breathing in the daylight than she was at that dinner.

“What you doing at my spot?” I asked, my tone steady, like seeing her didn’t have my chest tightening.

“Your spot?” she shot back, eyebrow raised.

“This me and my brother’s car wash,” I said, nodding toward Cartier, who was now a few feet away still chopping it up with Ant and the others.

Her eyes flicked to him, then back to me. “Damn, you really are a twin,” she said, her lips curving into a teasing smile.

“What, you thought I was joking?”

“No, it’s just…” She chuckled softly, the sound damn near hypnotic. “Does the world really need two of you?”

I smirked. “He’s him, and I’m me. Same face, same grind, but we’re different people.”

I let the words hang in the air, my gaze locked on hers. She smiled again, and I knew—whatever game she thought we were playing, I’d already won the first round.

“Well, congratulations, Carter. Looks like Westonberry’s got itself a shiny new place for you to stroke your ego.”

“Shiny enough to catch your attention, apparently,” I fired back, unbothered. “Admit it—you couldn’t stay away.”

She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her, twitching like it was fighting the urge to smile. “Don’t flatter yourself, Carter. My cousin dragged me here. Said there was a new car wash opening that had some specials. I didn’t even know this had anything to do with you.” She paused, letting her words linger before adding, with that little jab I knew she couldn’t resist, “And just so we’re clear? My day is still not about you.”

“Then why are you over here with me instead of watching her car get cleaned?” I asked, leaning in just slightly. “You could’ve stayed with your cousin, Fallon. But you didn’t. You came to me.”

For the first time, her confidence flickered. It was subtle—the slightest shift in her posture, the way her arms tightened across her chest—but I caught it. She was trying to decide whether to stay on offense or retreat. Smart girl.

“I didn’t come over here for you,” she shot back. “But since I’m here, let me make something clear—you need to stop.”

“Stop what?” I asked, grinning like I didn’t already know.

“Stop this. The flirting, the games, whatever this is.” Her voice dropped a little, softening, but there was no mistaking the frustration in it. “I told you before…I have a man, Carter.”

I held her gaze, my grin fading into something more serious. “And I told you before—I don’t give a fuck.”

“You should,” she snapped, her voice rising. For the first time, the mask slipped, and I caught a glimpse of something raw underneath. “You can’t just show up at a dinner, start drama and then act like everything revolves around you. That’s not how it works.”

“Maybe not,” I said, keeping my tone even, steady, letting the weight of my words hang between us. “But that’s how it feels, doesn’t it?”

“That’s not—” she started, but her voice wavered, the crack in her confidence slipping through.

“Don’t lie to me, Fallon,” I said, stepping closer, closing the gap like I was daring her to hold her ground. “You’re too smart for that.”

Her jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing, but there was hesitation in the way she looked up at me. “You don’t know me,” she said, but the words barely landed. They lacked the bite she wanted them to have, and we both knew it.

“Don’t I?” My voice dropped, softer now, just enough to make her lean in without realizing it. “I know you felt something between us the first time we met. I know you feel it now. And I know he doesn’t make you feel like this. Not like I do.”

Her breath caught, the faintest hitch that told me I was right, even if she didn’t want to admit it. I stepped closer still, my voice smooth and deliberate, cutting through the space between us.

“Tell me you haven’t thought about me every day since that dinner,” I said, my tone low, intimate, like it was a secret meant just for her.

Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The silence said it all.

Her jaw tightened, and her eyes narrowed like she was trying to build the wall back up. “You’re arrogant as hell, you know that?”

I smirked. “I prefer confident.”

“You think you can just bulldoze your way into people’s lives and rearrange everything to suit you. But I don’t work like that, Carter.”, she said trying to regain her footing.

I stepped even closer, my voice steady but charged with heat. “You sure bout that?”

Her breath hitched again, and I saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes. But this time, she didn’t back down. Instead, she squared her shoulders, lifting her chin like she was daring me to push her further.

“Listen to me, Carter,” she said, her voice steady, cutting. “Whatever fantasy you’ve cooked up in your head about me, about us, it’s not real. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I want.”

“Don’t I?” I asked again, my gaze never leaving hers. “Because you keep saying no, but your eyes are telling me something else. Your body language is telling me something else.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. “I’m not some prize for you to win, Carter. I’m not yours.”

The words hit harder than I expected, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

“You’re right,” I said. “You’re not mine. Not yet.”

Her eyes widening slightly, and for a split second, I saw it again—that crack, that hesitation. But then she shook her head, her expression hardening.

“You’re an asshole,” she said, stepping back, putting distance between us. “And you’re wrong. About everything.”

I smiled to myself, leaning back against the truck. She was good. Strong. But this wasn’t over—not even close. She hadn’t stormed off, hadn’t shut me down. Not really. Nah, Fallon wasn’t done here. She could throw out all the jabs she wanted, play tough, act like she wasn’t affected, but I saw through it. There was a part of her—no matter how much she tried to bury it—that wanted to see where this was going.

“I’m not wrong about you wanting me, Fallon,” I said, my voice calm, but firm enough to cut through the air like a blade. I let the words land, no rush, no hesitation, just facts. “You can say whatever you want—give all the speeches, all the excuses—but I already clocked you. I see it.”

She folded her arms across her chest, her lips pressing into a thin line, like she was bracing for the hit. But I wasn’t letting up.

“You’re saying all this because you feel like you need to,” I continued, my tone easy, but the confidence in it steady. “You’re trying to respect your man, trying to stand on business about your relationship. I get it. You want to be loyal. But let’s be real for a second…”

I stepped forward, closing the space between us like it belonged to me, my movements slow and intentional, my gaze locked on hers. The energy between us crackled, sharp and undeniable. My voice dipped lower, smoother, each word deliberate, pulling her in even if she didn’t want to be.

“You don’t have to do this dance with me, Fallon,” I said, my tone steady, firm but not forceful. “You could’ve walked away by now. But you haven’t.” I paused, letting my words settle, watching her every move. “You’re still here. You’re still talking to me.”

Her eyes flickered, betraying her, and I caught it—the tension, the hesitation, the war she was fighting with herself. The push-and-pull of wanting to stand her ground but knowing she already felt me breaking it down.

I let the moment stretch, gave her space to say something, anything. To push me back, to throw up a wall, to make a move that told me I’d misread her.

But she didn’t.

Her voice broke through the noise, softer this time, almost shaky. “What do you want from me, Carter?”

There it was. My opening. I wasn’t about to let it slide. I held her gaze, my voice dipping low, smooth as a slow burn. “You’re asking the wrong question, Beautiful. The question is… what do you want?”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She stumbled over the silence, her usual composure slipping. For the first time, she looked unsure. Vulnerable. What I’d been waiting for.

“You want me to tell you? Fine,” I said, my tone cutting clean through her hesitation. “You want what you’ve got with Carlton Banks. Safe, predictable, easy. The kind of guy who probably keeps his laundry color-coded and obsesses over spreadsheets. Hell, he might even braid your hair while he whispers sweet nothings about mutual funds.” I smirked, watching her mouth twitch like she was fighting not to smile. “And yeah, you love that shit. It makes sense—it’s safe. But me?” I stepped in closer, my voice heating up with every word. “You want me too. The fire. The edge. The part of you that’s bored but too scared to admit it.”

Her shoulders tightened, like my words hit too close to home. But she didn’t step back. She stayed rooted in place, staring up at me like she wanted to push me away but didn’t know how.

I tilted my head, letting the smirk linger on my lips. “I’m not him, Fallon. I’m not gonna check the boxes and stick to the script. I’m the guy who kicks down the door and makes things happen. I’ll light your world up so bright, you’ll never want to dim it again. And yeah, I’ll take what I want—with your consent of course.”

She shook her head, barely, like she was trying to clear it. But I kept going, my voice steady and deliberate, every word hitting its mark.

“With me, you’ll never be bored. I won’t just listen when you talk about your dreams—I’ll push you to make them real. I’m not the guy who shows up with flowers—I’ll plant a whole jungle if that’s what it takes. I’ll protect you, adore you, and keep your name in my mouth like it’s the only word that matters. But don’t get it twisted—I’m not here to coddle you, Fallon. I’ll challenge you. I’ll show you the powerhouse I already know you are.”

I stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat coming off her skin. My voice dropped lower, smooth and deliberate, like a secret meant just for her. “And Fallon? I’ll make damn sure you never have to question what it’s like to be wanted. Fully. Deeply. Without holding back.”

Her eyes locked on mine like she was trying to figure me out. But she couldn’t. Nobody ever could. That’s the thing about me—I don’t play by the rules, and I don’t lose. I tilted her chin, forcing her to look at me, to really see me.

“That’s what I bring to the table,” I said, my voice soft but sharp, cutting right through the air between us. “So tell me, Fallon—why settle for safe when you could have… me?”

Her expression cracked. It wasn’t just shock in her eyes—it was recognition. She felt this. She felt me. I knew it, and so did she.

“Carter, I—” Her voice trembled, her usual confidence slipping, leaving her exposed in a way I’d been waiting to see.

I didn’t let her finish. “At that dinner,” I cut in, my tone soft but firm, steady as a heartbeat, “you made it clear—you’re not property. Nobody owns you. You’ve got agency to do what you want, how you want.”

I stepped even closer, and this time, I didn’t stop. The space between us disappeared completly, the heat in the air sparking like a live wire. My voice dropped to a near whisper, low and deliberate. “So if you want him and me…”

I leaned in, my lips brushing hers—soft enough to tease, powerful enough to leave her breathless. Her body tensed, caught between resistance and surrender, and I felt the confusion of her wanting to run but not being able to move. My voice curled into her ear, smooth as silk and twice as dangerous.

“Why choose?”

She gasped, then took a sharp step back, like she’d been snapped out of a dream she wasn’t ready to admit she was having. Her wide eyes locked on mine, searching—maybe for an escape, maybe for answers, or maybe for the remedy to whatever spell I was putting her under.

“Carter,” she said, her voice sharp but shaky, like she was trying to put up a wall that was already half-cracked. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I didn’t flinch. Instead, I smiled, slow and easy, like I had all the time in the world.

“Nothing,” I said, my voice calm. “I’m just a man who knows exactly what he wants. And right now, Beautiful?” My gaze locked on hers, steady, unshakable. “I want you.”

“You’re crazy,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, like she didn’t even believe the words herself.

“You’re a woman who should have everything she wants, Fallon. Stop denying yourself. It’s not greedy—it’s your right.” I leaned in, my voice low and persuasive, each word dripping with conviction. “When you’re with him, be with him. And when you’re with me? Be with me.”

Her lips parted, ready to shoot something back, but I wasn’t about to let her cut me off. I stepped closer, my tone deliberate and smooth, making sure she felt every syllable.

“Picture this. A life where you’re loved by two men. Two men who give you everything you need in ways only they can,” I said, pausing to let the weight of it settle between us. “Him and me, Fallon. We’re nothing alike, but together?” I let the pause stretch just enough to leave her hanging. “We’d give you everything. Separately, of course.”

She stared at me, torn between disbelief and that spark of curiosity flickering in her eyes. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t move either. I knew I’d planted a seed. All I had to do now was wait for it to grow.

“Fallon!”

The voice cut through the noise, sharp and possessive, like it was staking a claim. We both turned to see him standing there, and I almost laughed. Poindexter. Mr. Carlton Banks himself. Where the hell had he even come from, yelling her name in that same tone I’d just used.

I smirked, my eyes flicking to him for half a second before I leaned back toward Fallon, my voice dropping low, meant just for her. “It don’t gotta be like this, Beautiful. I’m a twin—I know how to share.”

I reached down brushing her hair behind her ear with a touch so light it lingered long after my fingers left her skin. She didn’t pull away.

“I know Geek Squad over there has a hold on you. I know he’s doing everything right. He loves you. I’m not here to take that from him. But just know—” I leaned into her ear, so close my words wrapped around her, “I can love you too.”

Her eyes darted back to mine, and for a second, I thought she might say something. She didn’t. She just looked at me, her expression full of frustration, conflict, and something deeper she didn’t want to name. Then, with a sharp breath, she turned and walked toward him, her back straight, her steps firm, like she was trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing.

I stayed where I was, watching her go. And then, just before the crowd swallowed her up, I called out, loud enough for her to hear: “I’ll be here!”

Because I would.

I leaned back against the truck, sliding a toothpick into my mouth, my smirk steady and unbothered. As Fallon walked away, the crowd closed in behind her like the tide, swallowing her up, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on her until she reached him. Carlton—or whatever his name was.

There he stood in his neatly pressed button-down, looking every bit the guy who color-coded his calendar and budgeted his life in Excel. He was saying something to her, his hands moving like he was trying to piece together why she’d even been talking to me.

I know he was mad. Of course, he was. How could he not be? I wasn’t blind to what I’d just stirred up, and I didn’t want to put her in that position. But that wasn’t on me. That was on them. Their business, not mine. They’d have to figure it out.

She glanced back once. Just for a second. And that? That was everything. A crack in the foundation she thought was unshakable. The kind of crack that doesn’t just disappear—it spreads, grows, until the whole thing crumbles.

I didn’t need more than that. Just one look. It told me everything I already knew. She felt it. She was fighting it, sure—but fights like that? They only end one way.

It was only a matter of time before she’d give me the go.

Cartier strolled up beside me, grinning like he’d seen the whole thing. “You good? Starting shit as always?” He nodded toward where Fallon had disappeared into the crowd.

“Always,” I said, my smirk stretching wider. “Just playing the long game.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re something else, man.”

“Yeah,” I replied, brushing off my shirt. “I am.”

Turning my attention back to the car wash, I headed toward Ant, ready to jump back into the celebration. The music was still bumping, the crowd was still lit, and today was a win no matter how you sliced it. First brick-and-mortar. Grand Opening. First step toward bigger things.

But in the back of my mind, Fallon lingered. Her laugh, her scent, the way she looked at me like I was both a problem and a solution.

She’d come to see the truth. Sooner or later, she’d stop fighting it—that fire she was trying so hard to snuff out. Because something like this? You can’t run from it. You can’t ignore it. It finds you, no matter how far you go.

And when it finally hit her?

I’d be right here. Waiting.

Because the story of Fallon and me? It wasn’t just a possibility. It was destiny written in flames.

Fallon Adeyemi. Yeah, that had a real nice ring to it. Didn’t it?

The End..Or, Is It?

TAP INTO OUR READER QUESTIONS SO WE CAN HAVE CONVERSATION IN THE COMMENTS:

1. How do you think Fallon and Roger’s relationship will change now that their secret is out in the open? Will they be able to navigate the opinions and drama of their friend group?

2. Carter clearly isn't giving up easily—how do you think his presence will continue to affect Fallon and Roger's relationship? Could he become more than just a momentary antagonist? What do you think about his proposition?

3. Fallon struggled with asserting control over how their relationship reveal played out—do you think she’ll be able to fully own her part in this dynamic moving forward? How might she address Roger’s tendency to take the reins?

4. Roger’s declaration of love in such a public and confrontational way was bold, but was it the right move? What would you have done in his shoes?

5. The group dynamic is already shifting—how do you think Akil, Jade, and the others will adapt to the new reality of Fallon and Roger as a couple? Will their relationships with the group strengthen or fracture under the weight of this revelation?