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I was supposed to be clearing my mind.
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Deep breath in.
Hold.
Exhale.
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But every time I closed my eyes, that man’s voice crept in.
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“Only when I’m bored.”
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The nerve of him, smooth and dangerous like that. My yoga instructor was walking us through intention setting and all I could think about was Kairo — his low voice, that unreadable expression, the way he didn’t ask for anything but somehow still took up space in my thoughts.
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I rolled out of class still stuck in a daze. My body was light, but my mind was heavy with replay.
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It was just a conversation, Brielle.
One drink. A few glances. You’ve had that before.
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But not like that.
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I drove straight to my favorite smoothie spot, hoodie over my head, slides on, trying to focus on anything but him.
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Then I looked up.
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And there he was.
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Standing by the fridge, tall as ever, black tee stretching across his chest, gold chain glinting under the store lights like it had a story behind it.
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He looked up, and I swear, the smallest smile hit the corner of his mouth like he’d been waiting for this moment too.
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“You followin’ me now?”
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“In your dreams.”
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“Nah. I don’t dream about women who ghost me after one drink.”
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“Ghost you? You ain’t even ask for my number.”
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“Didn’t need to. You came back.”
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That grin again. Cocky, but earned.
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We both ordered smoothies and ended up sitting out front, shoulders barely touching, conversation just… flowing.
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Turns out, he had layers. Born and raised in the city, into some heavy family stuff he only talked around, not through. I didn’t press. I just listened. Something about his energy told me he wasn’t used to people doing that.
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After a while, I told him I wasn’t ready to go home yet. He nodded like he understood.
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We ended up on the rooftop of this parking deck a few blocks away. It was quiet. Breezy. The city lights twinkled in the distance like they were trying to mind their business.
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We leaned against the edge, sipping smoothies, shoulder to shoulder.
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“You always this chill?” I asked.
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“You bring it out of me.”
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That made me turn and really look at him. He didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch.
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“So what do you do, Kairo?”
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“You mean like a job?”
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“No. Like… when you’re not giving mysterious answers and stalking smoothie bars.”
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“I live. I protect what’s mine. And I move in silence.”
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“That supposed to scare me?”
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“Nah. I got a feeling not much does.”
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He was right. I’d been raised around wolves. I knew how to smell fear — and I didn’t have any for him. But I had curiosity. Heavy.
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He sat down on the edge, legs hanging off, and patted the spot next to him. I hesitated… then joined him.
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We talked about music. Childhood. Favorite colors. He told me he likes the quiet after rain. I told him I like the loud before a storm.
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He laughed. A real one. Like he hadn’t done that in a while.
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“What?” I asked.
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“You dangerous, Brie.”
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“Why?”
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“Because you feel like peace. And peace don’t usually last in my world.”
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That made my chest tighten. I didn’t ask why. I didn’t need to.
We were both dancing around secrets.
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But in that moment, under a navy-blue sky, with smoothie cups half-empty and the city low beneath us, none of it mattered.
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It was just me and him.
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Curiosity. Chemistry. And that quiet kind of danger that makes a girl wonder if falling is worth the fire.
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