Instinct made me fight against him. He kissed me long enough to prove that I wouldn’t win, then let me go. As I straightened my jacket and scowled around the tiny bathroom, looking everywhere but at De’Andre, he ran a hand down my arm and said softly, “Don’t front wit me, Nicky.”
“Nick,” I said. I buried my hands in my jackets so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch him. Only one argument came to mind. “Tyrone doesn’t know—”
“Tyrone’s dumb as f**k,” De’Andre replied. I laughed in spite of myself, my blood roiling just beneath my skin. De’Andre eased his hand into my pocket, covering my fist, his touch surprisingly gentle. Working his fingers through mine, he kept his voice low and intimate, and despite the party raging on the other side of the closed door, I heard every word he said. “If you’r
