The lobby hummed with chatter and rolling luggage. Sierra spotted him first—white crop top, a mini skirt that had no business looking that good, hair up in a high ponytail that stabbed his brain with Amina déjà vu. He shook it off.
She rushed him, arms around his ribs in that too-familiar hug. Warm. Dangerous. Lingering—probably because Keyon wasn't around.
"You tryna break my ribs, or...?"
"I'm just Deon-deprived," she said, finally easing back, eyes scanning his face like she could read last night there.
"So," she tilted her head, "why'd you bail on me? Hot date?"
Deon smirked. "Come on, nosy. It wasn't even like that. And if it was, a gentleman wouldn't kiss and tell."
She slid into a pout. "But I'm your bestie, right? You can share anything with me. That's what besties do."
"Only problem is, I'm a man, and men don't have besties."
"What? I've been calling you my bestie since forever. I'm your bestie. We're besties."
"You call me that, but I never approved it." He shrugged. "I don't got any besties. I'm a dude."
"Whatever, dork. Just tell me where you were."
"Chill out. I was in my room. Resting."
Technically not a lie. He was in his room at one point. And he did rest. In between.
Sierra narrowed her eyes, that pout still fixed. "Resting, huh? Resting with who?"
Deon arched a brow. "Damn, you interrogating me now?"
"Just asking a simple question." She tilted her head, smiling sweetly. Too sweet. "I thought we didn't keep secrets."
He let the smirk slide back onto his face, slow. "Funny. You're real curious for a married woman."
Her smile faltered, cheeks heating. "It's not like that."
"Then what's it like?" His voice dipped lower, quiet enough only she could hear. "You grilling me about my night while your husband's MIA? You want me to tell you, Sierra, or you want me to show you?"
The space between them thickened, her breath catching as she held his gaze a moment too long. Then she laughed nervously, brushing at his arm like it was all just a joke.
"You're impossible."
"Maybe." He leaned back, grin still tugging. "But you didn't answer my question."
Before she could, a familiar voice cut across the lobby. "Yo!"
Keyon strode up, sunglasses pushed to his head, easy grin in place like he owned the whole damn hotel. "My two favorite people—what'd I miss?"
Deon straightened, the smirk dimming just enough to slip the mask back on. Sierra tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile just a little too quick, a little too practiced.
"Nothing," she said.
Deon chuckled under his breath. Yeah. Nothing.
Deon exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "You know what? I think I'm actually just gonna catch a vibe by myself. Maybe check out the otaku scene around here. Y'all don't really fuck with that type of stuff, right? Right. So imma just slide."
He didn't wait for their answer, just brushed past Keyon on his way toward the doors.
Keyon blinked after him, brows drawn. "What was that about?"
Sierra forced a smile, slipping her phone into her bag. "You know how he can get. It's nothing."
Keyon shrugged, still looking puzzled. "Yeah, alright."
But her eyes lingered on the glass doors long after Deon was gone.