Yin perked up and Ari shook his head. “Bébé, I’m not watching To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before again.”

Yin scrunched his face like he couldn’t understand how a person could be that heartless. “But we haven’t seen it in a really long time.”

Ari rolled his eyes and put his arm around his boyfriend. “Three weeks is not a long time. We saw it when we babysat your niece.”

Yin huffed again and I couldn’t help but laugh, despite the hole in my stomach.

“How about Black Panther?” They both seemed pleased with that answer, and before they changed their mind, I fired up the movie.

“We can pause it when the food comes.” I turned around and noticed they were already settled in on the sofa with a throw over them. Comfortable in my house, and I felt glad that at least I could provide Ari a space where he could be himself while he figured things out.

I couldn’t use my attraction for Easton as a distraction anymore. No matter how much I ached to run upstairs and apologize for leaving him hanging, for hurting him. It was better to do this now than later, before we were both too emotionally invested. It felt like a betrayal to even think like this, but my own wants could not take precedence this time.

Easton

I didn’t see his face, but I didn’t need to. I would recognize those shoulders anywhere. Patrice was embracing another man outside of the building at 10:00 a.m. the morning after cancelling on our plans with zero explanation. From my living room window I had a front-row seat of the unfolding scene. He stood there, his face serious, both hands in his pockets as he watched the man drive off, and then went back inside. I felt like the skin on my face was burning, jealousy and humiliation coursing through me.

I was a fucking fool.

Patrice wasn’t busy working like I told myself when I got his text last night as I frantically ran around preparing the elaborate dessert I’d ended up shoving into the fridge untouched.

He was with someone else.

All that shit he said on the phone the other night was just that...shit he’d said. I had to finally get it through my stupid fucking head that Patrice and I weren’t doing the same thing. We were nowhere near the same page, and I need to leave this alone.

And yet, before I knew it I was running down the two flights of stairs to his place and knocking on his door. I didn’t even have the excuse of being drunk. Gearing up for a big case in less than two weeks meant I couldn’t afford to kill my productivity with hangovers.