chapter Ⅷ

tw: a little groping and kissing

𝓶𝓲𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓵'𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓿

The dim glow of the chandelier cast a warm light over the dining table, the soft clinking of silverware filling the air as Giselle and I ate. She looked beautiful tonight—her curls bouncing slightly as she moved, her skin glowing under the golden light. I watched as she picked at her food, her fingers delicately twirling her fork around the pasta.

"You good?" I asked, leaning back in my chair.

She glanced up, flashing a small smile. "Yeah, just... thinking."

I smirked. "About me?"

She scoffed. "You wish."

I chuckled, sipping my wine before setting the glass down. "So, I've been dealing with some business problems lately."

She raised an eyebrow. "Business?"

"Yeah," I said, cutting a piece of steak. "Some fool named Prince been sniffing around my territory in South Cali. Thinks he can step in where he don't belong."

I didn't miss the way Giselle stiffened, her fingers gripping the stem of her glass a little too tight. It was subtle—real subtle—but I noticed.

"You okay, baby?" I asked, my eyes locking onto hers.

She quickly nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "Yeah. Just... I don't know. That name just sounds familiar, I guess."

I narrowed my eyes slightly, studying her, but before I could press the issue—

The front door opened, and I heard voices and laughter echoing through the house.

"Toya, you are too much!" Marlon's voice rang out, followed by Latoya's high-pitched giggle.

Giselle instantly tensed again, looking toward the sound of footsteps approaching the dining room.

A second later, my brother and sister appeared in the doorway, both pausing mid-conversation when they saw her sitting at the table with me.

Latoya's eyes widened, a slow grin spreading across her face. "Ooooh, and who is this?"

Giselle shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and I sighed, running a hand over my face. "Damn, y'all don't knock no more?"

Marlon ignored me, stepping further inside with a knowing smirk. "So, we come home from a night out, and suddenly you got a lady at the dinner table? This is new."

Giselle let out a nervous laugh. "Uh... hi."

Latoya clapped her hands together. "She's so pretty! Michael, you didn't tell us you had a girlfriend!"

I rolled my eyes. "Y'all nosy as hell."

Marlon crossed his arms, still smirking. "Nah, for real, though. Who is she?"

I glanced at Giselle, silently asking if she wanted to answer. She hesitated for a second before speaking.

"I'm Giselle," she said softly. "I... um, I met Michael recently."

Latoya wiggled her eyebrows. "Met him how?"

Giselle glanced at me, looking a little overwhelmed. I reached across the table and took her hand, rubbing my thumb over her skin.

"That's enough questions for tonight," I said firmly. "Y'all go mind your business."

Latoya huffed dramatically. "Fine. But I will be getting the full story later." She turned to Giselle and winked. "Girl, don't let him keep you all to himself."

Giselle let out a small laugh as they both finally left, their voices fading down the hall.

I sighed, shaking my head. "They nosy as hell."

She smiled, but I could tell her mind was still somewhere else. Probably back to what I said earlier.

Prince.

I wasn't gonna let that go.

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The bedroom was dimly lit, the only glow coming from the lamp on my nightstand. Giselle was sitting on the edge of my bed, her curls spilling over her shoulders, her face slightly flushed from the wine. She looked at me through hooded eyes, her lips parted just enough to make me lose my damn mind.

I sat beside her, close enough that our knees brushed. She smelled sweet—like vanilla and something deeper, something that made me wanna pull her closer.

"You good?" I asked, my voice low.

She nodded, but there was hesitation in her eyes. "I think the wine hit me a little."

I smirked. "Yeah, I noticed. You barely finished your pasta, but you sure didn't hold back on that wine."

She giggled softly, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Shut up."

I reached out, running my fingers along her jaw before tilting her chin up to face me. Her breath hitched, and for a second, she just stared at me—like she was debating something in her head.

"Come here," I murmured.

She didn't pull away when I leaned in, pressing my lips against hers. She tasted like red wine and something sweet, something dangerous. I deepened the kiss, my hand sliding to the small of her back, pulling her into me.

Her fingers curled into my shirt, gripping it tight, and I felt her body melt against mine. My other hand trailed up her arm, over her shoulder, tracing her collarbone. I could feel her heartbeat, fast and unsteady.

Then, suddenly, she tensed.

I pulled back slightly, searching her face. She looked down, her fingers playing with the fabric of my shirt.

"What's wrong, baby?" I asked, brushing my thumb across her cheek.

She sighed. "I don't know... I just—" She hesitated. "I guess I just don't wanna seem... easy."

I frowned, tilting my head. "Easy?"

She nodded, still avoiding my eyes.

I lifted her chin again, making her look at me. "Listen to me," I said softly. "Ain't nothing 'easy' about you. You're smart, independent... strong. And I like that about you."

She bit her lip, still unsure.

I leaned in again, kissing her forehead this time, lingering there for a moment before pulling her against my chest. She let out a breath, relaxing into me.

"We go at your pace," I murmured against her hair. "Ain't no rush."

She looked up at me, searching my face, and finally, she smiled. A real one this time.

"Thank you," she whispered.

I smirked, tucking a curl behind her ear. "You're welcome. Now, come here."

She curled up against me, her head resting on my shoulder as I pulled the blanket over us. I wasn't gonna rush this—not with her.

She was too damn special for that.

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it was getting spacyyyyy 

hihihihiih

should i add michelle and kelly or nahhhhhh??????