Page 84 of A King’s Obsession

“Discussion over.” He gestures toward the seat, looking entirely too satisfied with himself.

I swear this man gets on my nerves.

I pull the Mercedes into Ezra’s driveway behind him, still not believing he really bought me a car. A nice-ass car too.

He catches me looking back at it when we get out.

“You know I might give this back, right?” I ask, folding my arms as I look between him and the car.

“You drove that motherfucker home. Your ass ain’t giving shit back.” He laughs and heads toward the house without waiting for me.

I roll my eyes and follow him inside, barely making it through the foyer before the smell of food hits me.

“What you cook?” I ask, looking toward the kitchen.

“I ain’t cook shit.” He keeps walking like the smell isn't filling up the entire house.

“Then why it smell like somebody been in your kitchen cooking all day?” I follow behind him, already trying to figure out what else he's got going on.

Ezra glances back at me. “Shit, it’s your kitchen too.”

I stop walking. “See, there you go. Just deciding stuff again.”

“Ain’t shit to decide. You live here.” He gestures around the house like the matter is already settled.

“According to you.” I give him a pointed look.

“According to all your shit upstairs.” He keeps walking, clearly enjoying himself.

I’m still rolling my eyes when I follow him around the corner and see a chef behind the island plating dinner. Then I notice the candles and two place settings on the table.

This was already planned.

The realization makes me look at Ezra differently. I walked into his office this morning raising hell, thinking he’d forgotten all about the restaurant while I sat around his house with nothing to do. Meanwhile, he already had the building lined up, the car waiting and this dinner planned.

“You already had all this set up?” I ask, glancing between him and the table.

Ezra pulls out my chair with that little grin on his face. “Sit down, Jru.”

I shake my head, fighting my own smile. “You get on my nerves.”

“But you smiling.” He waits beside the chair, looking pleased with himself.

I sit.

Dinner is good enough that I stop questioning him long enough to enjoy it. We talk about the restaurant, and Ezra throws out a few names that prove I should never let him anywhere near the naming process.

“Velvet,” he says at one point, looking across the table like he's just come up with something brilliant.

I put my fork down. “That sounds like an old strip club.”

The look on his face lasts two seconds before he starts laughing.

My phone lights up beside my plate before I can enjoy being right.

Ashlynn.

I answer immediately and barely get through asking why she’s been ducking me before she claims Malachi is calling and hangs up.