Page 44 of Omar

Omar sat there with his white knuckles, his controlled breathing, his steady eyes. He hadn't interrupted once. Hadn't flinched, hadn't looked away. He just sat there with his coffee and his attention. He let me talk.

"You don't gotta perform with me," he said when I finished. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah." My voice came out smaller than I wanted it to. "I do know that."

"Good." He took a sip of his coffee. "Cos I ain't interested in that version. Never was."

I looked at him across the table and something loosened in my chest. "Tell me about you. What you became after I left."

He told me about working alongside Kadeem when he took over the family business after his pops disappeared, about the enforcement work, about the things he'd done that most people would run from if they knew. He told me flat, like facts, no drama and no apology.

"That bother you?" he asked.

"No."

"For real?"

"Omar, I been living with a man who orders people killed between dinner and dessert. You think you scare me?"

Something moved across his face. Relief, maybe. Or surprise that I could hold what he was telling me without looking away.

"Nah," he said quietly. "I don't think I scare you."

"You don't." I picked up my coffee. "Honestly? You're the safest thing in my life right now and that's terrifying cos you might be the most dangerous man I know."

He looked at me for a long moment. "I'm gon' get you out of there, Asha."

"Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Because if you say it I might believe you and if I believe you I might stop planning my own way out and that's the only thing keeping me sane right now."

He leaned back in his chair. "Then keep planning. But know I'm here. Whatever you need."

I checked my phone. Twelve minutes left. "I gotta go."

"Already?"

"Cee's waiting. He thinks I'm at a home visit."

I stood up and he stood with me. In the back corner of this empty coffee shop with the old woman still reading her paper and the barista wiping down the counter, we were invisible. Nobody could see us. Nobody knew we were here.

He caught my wrist when I went to turn. Gently, not pulling, just holding. His thumb pressed against my pulse and I didn't move away.

"Asha."

"Yeah?"

He pulled me closer and kissed me. This one was slow, full, nothing like the park. I kissed him back with everything, both my hands coming up to his jacket, gripping the front of it, pulling him closer. His hand went to the back of my neck. Mine went to his chest. His heartbeat was right there under my palm, steady and strong. When I finally stepped back I was breathing differently.

"This is going to be a problem," I said.

"You already said that."

"Because it's still true."

He let go of my wrist. I could still feel his thumb where it had been pressed against my pulse. I picked up my bag and headed for the door.