Page 22 of Juliet's Echo

"Now get back in your little Jeep, princess, and go on — before I tell old man Ec—"

Before he could finish, I plucked him hard on the funny bone. The sharp inhale, the full body jolt, the way his face twisted and water pooled in his eyes while he fought with everything in him to hold that scream in — deeply, deeply satisfying. Echo had made me take a self-defense class years back. Most of what we covered was standard — positioning, escape techniques, the basics. But Lacey, one of the other students, had pulled me aside one afternoon and introduced me to something far more useful. Hit the funny bone at the right angle, with the right amount of pressure, and you don't just cause pain — you cause paralysis. Temporary, harmless, deeply effective paralysis. I keep that trick tucked away for special occasions.

"I call that my Mortal Kombat — 'cause I bet your ass is finished, ain't it?"

Psalm flexed his hand slowly, jaw still tight, but I could tell the pain was subsiding.

"Get your spoiled ass in that Jeep before I put you in it," he said through gritted teeth.

"Okay, okay," I said, throwing my hands up in mock surrender. "But if you bring me back a slice of pineapple upside-down cheesecake, I'll make up a good excuse to Hamburger for why you're late to class."

"Fuck," he muttered, checking his watch. He'd clearly lost track of time.

"I'll see you later — maybe," I called out sarcastically to his back as he hustled out of the parking lot toward the burger bar.

Psalm Mitchel

Istood at the counter in Flip'd, scanning the menu taking up time I didn’t have, like I wasn't about to order the same thing I always ordered. I now had twenty-five minutes to get to creative writing class. I could have hopped back in my whip to make it on time, but a nigga's ribs were touching.

Bring me back a slice of cake.

Her little ass had the nerve to not ask but to blackmail me. If she only knew I had old Hamburger right where I needed him. One Saturday, I got permission from my music professor to access the supply room for new guitar strings — I'd zoned out delivering my personal rendition of Tevin Campbell's "Can We Talk" and struck a chord too hard, popping three strings at once. When I stepped into that supply room, I caught Hamburger's old ass wedged between some young buns. I could skip every class, turn in nothing, and still walk away with an A.

That kind of leverage wasn't my style, though. I liked earning my grades honestly. Besides, creative writing was the one classthat gave me an excuse to lay eyes on Bratty Ass for an extended period — and argue with her without giving away my true thoughts.

"Welcome to Flip'd! What can I get you?"

The cashier was Deja — a senior who'd had a thing for me since we both stepped onto campus freshman year. Deja was gorgeous. Dark, smooth skin, plus-sized frame, and a good time by every measure. She'd invite me to her dorm every so often and made it abundantly clear just how much she was feeling me. Her head game was superior — mouth so strong she could suck the fluid out of your brain. The pussy was what any man would comfortably call good: tight, wet, and willing.

But Deja's undeniable beauty and my biological needs aside, it wasn't enough to make her mine — though she'd expressed more than once that she wanted to be. I hadn't yet come across a woman who truly captivated me, and I wasn't entirely sure what qualities I was even looking for. What I did know was that a fat ass and a pretty face weren't enough. So, I'd give women the time of their life, get my nut, and move on. I was always polite when I saw them afterward though — never cold, never distant. I wasn't wired to make a woman feel less than for getting her needs met.

"Let me get a double with bacon cooked crispy, no onions, add jalapeño," I ordered.

"You want a side and a drink?" she asked.

"Yeah, fries well done and a water," I added.

Deja keyed in my order, making sure to glance up and hold eye contact a beat too long, bottom lip caught between her teeth. I made a mental note to get at her later.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"Nah, that's—"

I stopped mid-sentence. Chestnut brown eyes and perfectly glossed lips had just walked into my psyche uninvited — and I wasn't thinking about Deja.

"—and a slice of pineapple upside-down cheesecake," I finished.

Not only did ordering what Juliet requested amuse me, it made me feel like a simp. Polite, yes — that I'd always been. But a pushover? This was new territory entirely.

"That's different from your usual order. Trying something new?" Deja's nosey ass asked.

"Nah, I caved to blackmail," I said flatly.

The confused look on her face told me exactly where that conversation was headed and I wasn't in the mood to entertain her flirting session any further.

"I'm pressed for time, beautiful — think you could tell them in the back to speed that up for me?" I asked, adding a little more teeth to my smile and a slow wink.

"Depends," she responded, lowering both her tone and her eyes. "Am I going to see you later?"