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Samara

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Standing between Damson and Akeem felt like standing in the eye of a very attractive, very tense storm. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but my mouth had gone completely dry. Okay, breathe. You're fine. This is fine.

Two incredibly handsome men were staring each other down over... what exactly? Over me? No. That's ridiculous. Isn't it?

I glanced at Damson, whose jaw was so tight I was afraid he'd pull a muscle. Then I turned to Akeem, who was as chill as ever, looking like he'd strolled into this awkward pressure cooker for fun.

Do they feel how weird this is? Am I the only one? Oh, Gosh. What if I'm the only one who feels this awkward?

I had to say something-anything-to break the silence. "So..." My voice came out lighter than I intended, so I cleared my throat and tried again. "What are you doing here?" He tilted his head slightly, that cocky little smile of his as unbothered as ever. "Came to get my hoodie," he said, his voice deep and smooth like that was somehow a perfectly reasonable explanation.

I blinked. "Here? You came here for your hoodie?" I gestured wildly around campus, trying to emphasize how ridiculous this was. "As in, my school? I didn't even tell you where I went!"

Akeem shrugged, his grin turning sly. "Didn't think that mattered." He paused, leaning in just a fraction closer, and I swear my heart did a little somersault. "Why? Were you secretly hoping I wouldn't show up?"

What kind of question is that?!

Abort mission. Flirty territory. Danger, danger!

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing coherent came out. Before I could fully combust, a loud throat-clear cut through the tension.

Oh. Right. Damson's still here.

I turned so fast my neck popped. And for some reason, I felt like I'd just been caught doing something I shouldn't. Which is ridiculous because I'm not doing anything wrong.

I'm very single. Extremely single.

Damson's voice was calm, but the sharp edge in his tone was impossible to miss. "Who's this?"

My stomach sank. The question wasn't for me. It was aimed directly at Akeem, and it sounded more like a challenge than a question.

"Oh, uh..." My brain scrambled as I waved awkwardly between them. "Damson, this is Akeem. Akeem, Damson." Nailed it. Definitely didn't make this worse at all.

Akeem raised an eyebrow, not sparing Damson even a brief glance. Why is he staring at me? "Friend of yours?" His tone was casual, but the smirk tugging at his lips said otherwise.

Oh no.

Damson didn't miss a beat. "We're close. Really close."

And there it is. Testosterone. In the wild.

I shot him a look so sharp it could've cut through steel. Close? What are you doing? What is this energy? Stop it right now.

"Okay!" I clapped my hands together, desperate to diffuse the tension. "No. We are not doing this." I turned to Akeem, keeping my voice tight and to the point. "We should go, I'll give you your hoodie."

"Lead the way, Princess," Akeem said, grinning like he hadn't just dropped a grenade into the middle of this situation.

I thought the princess thing would end in our DM's but it seems I was wrong.

I felt Damson stiffen beside me, his sharp intake of breath loud enough to cut through the tension. My eyes darted between the two, and I could feel the heat crawling up my neck. Akeem was calm, looking only at me, while Damson looked ready to combust.

"Right," I muttered. "Let's go."

I started walking but paused, glancing back at Damson. I walked back to him "Damson," I said softly, "You were asking me something earlier. What was it?" For a moment, his expression softened, and my chest squeezed. Maybe this was salvageable? Then his eyes flicked back to Akeem, and the moment was gone. "It's nothing," he said, shaking his head.

I swallowed something rising in my throat. I couldn't possibly be disappointed could I? It's just that he had previously sounded like he was about to ask me out. I forced a smile. "Okay. See you, then."

Walking away with Akeem felt like trying to exit a burning building in slow motion. I was a bundle of nerves, but at least the tension was behind me.

Or so I thought.

Without warning, Akeem grabbed my sports bag right off my shoulder. The weight of it I didn't even realise was there, disappearing.

"Hey!" I reached for it, but he dodged me easily, tossing it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. "I can carry that!" I protested

"Nah." He smirked, completely unfazed.

"Nah? What do you mean 'nah'?"

He didn't even bother answering me. He just kept walking like this was the most normal thing in the world.

"Seriously," I said, walking in step with him. "Give it back."

"Relax, Princess." He laughed, jogging a few steps ahead of me.

I couldn't help but laugh back, jogging to catch up. When I turned my head to say something, I caught him already looking at me, and my heart made a little leap.

"You're weird," I said before I could stop myself. "You don't reply to my texts, and then you just...show up here?"

Akeem chuckled, tilting his head. "Why? Was the Princess waiting for me to text?"

"Pfft. No," I lied, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

But my inner voice was a traitor. Okay, fine. Maybe. A little. But he doesn't need to know that.

Akeem adjusted my sports bag on his shoulder like it weighed nothing, while I walked beside him, stealing glances. He had that infuriatingly relaxed energy, like he didn't have a care in the world.

"You know," he said, breaking the silence, "I've been meaning to ask... did you ever get the milkshake stains out of that hoodie?"

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "Don't remind me. I tried everything-baking soda, vinegar, some weird TikTok hack with shaving cream. Nothing worked."

He whistled low. "So, basically, my milkshake ended that hoodie's career."

"Ended it? It annihilated it," I shot back. "That hoodie was a legend."

Akeem raised an eyebrow, his smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "A legend, huh? Was it like your lucky hoodie or something?"

"Not exactly," I admitted, shoving my hands into my pockets. "But it was my go-to. Comfortable, oversized, perfect for binging Netflix and ignoring all my responsibilities."

He laughed, his deep voice sending a little thrill through me. "Okay, so I owe you an apology for taking out your Netflix hoodie."

"Darn right you do." I gave him a sidelong glance. "That thing had sentimental value."

"Alright, what do I owe you then?" he asked, holding his free hand up like he was making an official pledge. "Another hoodie? A lifetime supply of chocolate milkshakes?" I tilted my head, pretending to consider it. "Hmm. A hoodie sounds nice, but a lifetime of milkshakes? That might be hard to top."

"Done," he said without hesitation. "But only if I get to spill the first one again. Keep the tradition alive."

I stopped walking and turned to stare at him, incredulous. "Are you serious?" He grinned, taking a step closer. "What? You clearly like memorable moments, Princess."

"Memorable moments?" I repeated, trying not to laugh. "That's what you call ruining someone's hoodie?"

"Hey, I'm just saying," he replied, holding his hands out. "If I hadn't spilled that milkshake, would we even be here right now?"

I blinked, my brain scrambling. "I...uh okay, first of all, that's ridiculous. Second, no one should ever spill a milkshake on purpose. Ever."

"Noted." He chuckled, leaning just a little closer. "But for the record, I'm still glad it happened." For a second, I forgot how to breathe. He wasn't even doing anything, just standing there with that cocky smile and those ridiculously nice eyes. "You're impossible," I muttered, starting to walk again to shake the weird fluttering in my chest.

"Maybe," he called after me, his voice full of amusement. "But you're still talking to me." I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't stop the smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, yeah. Don't push your luck, milkshake boy."

"Milkshake boy? That's my title now?" He laughed, catching up to me easily. "I was thinking more like... milkshake hero."

"Oh, please," I groaned, shaking my head. "You're never living this down."

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By the time we got to my dorm, my nerves were completely fried. "Wait here, I'll get your hoodie," I muttered, snatching my bag from him and bolting inside. In my room, I tore through my things, muttering under my breath like a lunatic, trying to focus, but my thoughts refused to cooperate. "What just happened?"

"What even is my life? Why am I like this? Why is he like this?"

"Why is this making me nervous?"

My eyes caught my reflection in the mirror, and I froze. Do I look okay? I look fine. Right? Yes. No? Ugh.

Slapping my cheeks lightly, "Get it together," I muttered, grabbing the hoodie and rushing back downstairs.

"Here." I shoved the hoodie at his chest. My eyes darted all over the place, from his eyes to the huge trees that stood behind him. But instead of taking it, he just stared at me, an unreadable expression playing on his face.

"What?" I asked, poking his shoulder. "Here. Take it."

He blinked, a slow smile spreading across his face as he finally took it from me. Instead of leaving, he leaned a little closer. "Thanks, Princess."

I groaned. "Why do you keep calling me that?"

"You don't like it?" he teased, folding the hoodie over his arm.

"No."

"Liar."

I scowled. "You're impossible."

"And you're fun," he shot back, his smile softening in a way that made my stomach flip again.

I crossed my arms. "So, are you ever going to explain how you found me?"

Akeem laughed, shaking his head. "Wouldn't be fun if I told you now would it?"

I nodded my head "Mhmm"

I thought for a moment and then let out a dramatic gasp. "Stalker."

"What?" He looked genuinely surprised, then chuckled. "I'm not a stalker."

"Sure you're not."

"I'm not"

"It makes perfect sense. You're having your Joe Goldberg moment."

"Princess, that's not it-"

"No, no, I get it." I shook my head, backing away slowly. "I should go inside. You know, for my safety." I was smirking now, completely amused

Akeem reached for my arm, but I dodged dramatically.

"Help, help! My stalker followed me home!" I whisper-shouted, making sure I was only loud enough for the both of us

His laugh was full and loud, his head tilting back, the sound pulling an unexpected smile out of me. "You're something else," he said, shaking his head.

I turned to the door, still smiling.

"I'll see you around, Princess," he called after me.

Without looking back, I waved. "What every girl wants to hear from her stalker."

And with that, I disappeared up the stairs, my heart racing, my face flushed. You know, as much as it could for a black girl.

I closed the door to my room and leaned against it, my pulse thrumming like I'd just played a full-court game. I touched my face, then my lips, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners.

What am I getting myself into?

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