Page 56 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

He didn’t push. That was one thing about Syx—he knew when to leave shit alone. When to let people keep their secrets. He’d gotten finer since the last time I saw him, but he was off limits. Syx and I flirted from time to time, but it was harmless. His ass wouldn’t be twenty-one for another month and a half. It would be inappropriate to cross a line with him. I wasn’t that much of a hoe.

I went back to scrolling. He drummed his fingers on the table.

The silence stretched between us. Not uncomfortable. Just… empty.

“You still having them night terrors?” I asked suddenly.

Syx blinked. Looked at me like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.

“What?”

“The night terrors,” I repeated. “You still getting them?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, I been having them. But I’m back on my meds now, so I ain’t had issues for like a week.”

I nodded. Took another sip of wine.

“That’s good,” I said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“You seeing that therapist Amai got you?” I asked.

“Yeah. Twice a week.”

“It helping?”

Syx shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know. She keep asking me about my mama and shit, and I don’t really wanna talk about that, but—” He stopped. “Yeah. It’s helping.”

I took another sip of wine. Studied him over the rim of the glass.

He looked tired. Like someone who’d been fighting his own demons for so long he’d forgotten what peace felt like.I recognized that look because I saw it in the mirror every morning.

“You deserve to be okay,” I said quietly.

Syx stared at me. For the first time since he’d sat down, the grin was completely gone from his face.

“You good?” he asked. “Like for real. I hate the way Amai treats you.”

I didn’t answer. Just refilled my glass.

The front door opened.

Footsteps in the hallway.

Amai.

Syx’s eyes went wide.

“Ah shit,” he said.

I looked back down at my phone. Just kept scrolling through Instagram like Layla’s body wasn’t cooling on the tile three feet away from me.

The footsteps stopped.

I could feel him standing in the doorway. Could feel the weight of his presence filling the space.