Deon exhaled, shaking his head. He needed air. Distance. Anything. He stepped into the sunlit street, the city buzzing around him.
His phone buzzed. Jordy again. Don't forget me. Weird souvenirs only.
He smirked, thumb hovering over the screen. She was joking, but he knew she'd be deflated if he came back empty-handed. Maybe a charm, something ridiculous from a market stall. Something that would make her roll her eyes and keep it on her desk anyway.
The streets buzzed with chatter and sizzling food. Deon paused at a stall, holding up a small carved Shisa dog, squinting at it like it might reveal the right answer.
"This weird enough?" he muttered.
"Nope," came a dry voice at his side.
He turned. Amina, tote bag on her shoulder, hair as messy as ever, looked him over with that same unimpressed half-smirk.
"That thing's tourist 101. You'll look like you bought it at the airport."
Deon arched a brow. "You always just pop up to crush a man's confidence?"
"Only when he needs it." She reached over and plucked up a ridiculous octopus keychain. "This, on the other hand, is peak tacky. She'll laugh at it. That's the move."
He chuckled, but then glanced at her, head tilted. "By the way... what makes you think it's a she?"
"No man would be in this area shopping if it wasn't for a woman." She gestured around. Sure enough, nearly every shopper in sight was a woman.
"I see."
"Yeah. Also, I'm basically a detective."
"Doubtful. I'm probably just easy to read."
She gave him a sly smile. "Two things can be true. Besides... books are easier to read when you're interested in them."
His brow lifted. "Is that right?"
"It is."
He leaned an elbow on the stall, smirking. "So what's on your nightstand?"
Amina didn't flinch. She met his gaze, steady and amused. "Tonight? Undecided."
The energy between them shifted, sparking hotter, heavier. For a moment, the noise of the market faded.
"Oh," Deon said finally, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Oh," she echoed, lips quirking.
They lingered in front of a stall selling trinkets, the air thick with food smells and chatter. Their banter still hummed between them, that spark neither one wanted to snuff out.
Amina shifted the tote bag higher on her shoulder, then glanced sideways at him. "Hey... you maybe want to grab a bite with me later? I know we just met and all, but this is fun. And I'm on vacation, so I figure..." She lifted her hand and flicked her wrist like she was shooting a basketball. "I'd shoot my shot."
"Kobe!" Deon said instantly.
The sound that burst out of her wasn't the polite giggle he was used to from women—it was a full snort, followed by a laugh she tried and failed to smother behind her hand. A faint blush bloomed across her cheeks.
Deon grinned wide. He hadn't realized how much he missed making someone laugh like that.
"You're ridiculous," she said, still smiling as she adjusted her hair, as if that could hide the color in her face.
"Maybe. But you laughed."
"Shut up."
"Nah, I'm serious. That laugh right there? That's premium content."
She shook her head, but the smile lingered, stubborn.
Amina was still shaking her head, the pink in her cheeks refusing to fade. Deon watched her, grinning, and something inside him loosened. This wasn't forced, wasn't weighty. It was just... easy.
She finally looked back at him, almost shy under that hoodie shadow. "So, that's a yes?"
Deon shrugged, pretending to think. "Free food, good company, maybe more bad jokes?"
"Definitely more bad jokes."
"Then yeah, I'm in."
Her smile flickered wide before she tried to rein it back in. "Okay. I'll text you the details. Wear something nice."
Deon leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough to make it playful. "Something nice, huh? You trying to set me up for Usher's Trading Places treatment?" He hummed a line off-key, half-singing the lyric about switching roles.
The laugh that ripped out of her was instant, loud, and snorty all over again. She shoved his arm lightly, embarrassed. "Stop! Don't—oh my god, you're stupid."
"Stupid, maybe," Deon said, smiling wider than he'd meant to. "But you laughed. Again."
She bit her lip, shaking her head as she started backing away. "I'll text you," she repeated, pointing at him like a warning.
"I'll be waiting," he shot back, hand over his chest like he'd just been blessed.
The crowd swallowed her up, but the sound of her laugh lingered in his chest long after she disappeared.
Deon stood there for a moment after she disappeared into the crowd, the noise of the market rushing back around him. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Damn," he muttered.
She was a stranger. A stranger he'd known for what — two nights, tops? And yet here he was, grinning like an idiot because she laughed at his dumb Usher joke.
He started down the street, bag swinging at his side, and tried to shake it off. Usually he wasn't this quick with jokes, wasn't this loose. With Sierra, every word had to be weighed, careful, like balancing on a tightrope. With most people, he stayed reserved, low-key.
But Amina?
She had him cracking jokes, clowning like he was back in middle school. She pulled something out of him he didn't even know he was missing.
His mind drifted to the hug Sierra gave him earlier, the scent of her perfume still faint on his shirt. Normally that would've been enough to drown him in old feelings for the rest of the night. But now? That ache was muted, just a whisper at the back of his head.
Because all he could think about was messy hair, snort-laughs, and the text he knew was coming.
He shook his head, smiling despite himself. "What is it about that girl?"
Deon pushed into his hotel room, tossing the souvenir bag on the desk. The clock read a little after three. Plenty of time to chill, maybe nap, definitely shower before dinner.
He dropped onto the edge of the bed, scrolling his phone. His thumb hovered for a second before typing out the message:
Yo, won't make it for drinks tonight. Got other plans.
He hit send before he could overthink it, then tossed the phone on the nightstand.