Page 50 of When a Soul Cries

Me.

“So what’s Sol short for?” he asked.

I lowered the menu. “Who said it’s short for something?”

His shoulder lifted lazily. “I’m asking.”

“Maybe that’s just my name.”

“Maybe.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You always this nosy?”

“Didn’t you just ask me that?”

“And apparently you ain’t learn nothing the first time.”

Rome laughed under his breath, rubbing his thumb along his jaw. “Aight. I’ll stop asking questions.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and leaned back.

Then he just stared at me.

Five seconds passed. Maybe six.

“What?” I finally asked.

“Nothing.”

“Why you looking at me?”

“You told me stop asking questions.”

I stared at him.

He stared back.

A smile slowly pulled at my mouth. “You stupid.”

“There she go.”

My smile faded slightly. “There who go?”

“That girl that keep trying not to smile at me.”

My lips pressed together immediately, and Rome laughed.

“Boy, fuck you.”

“Nah. I’m good.”

My eyes snapped up to his, and the look on his face told me he knew exactly how that sounded.

“See?” I pointed at him. “That’s that shit.”

“What shit?”