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  I groaned, rolling my eyes. “This is exactly what I was saying the other night, KC. You can’t roll people in and out of a shop like cattle—”

  “Yes, I can. Men are used to it. We don’t need much more than a couple of swipes with the clippers and clean up the line.”

  “I can see that for a maintenance cut,” said Tamera. “But it’s not enough for a special occasion. Y’all aren’t taking your time, doing good hair and it shows.”

  KC laughed. “No one at a barber shop is concerned about doing good hair, Tamera.”

  Sheila and one of her bartenders arrived to our section with trays of shots and began setting them out on the table.

  “That’s why the Curl & Dye matters, KC. We care about doing good hair.”

  “We care about you not walking around town looking like someone ran over your head with a lawnmower,” Evonne added, to which everyone laughed.

  “My cut wasn’t that bad.” KC paused, glancing around the room. “Was it?”

  Tamera cleared her throat loudly and reached for her shot. “Uh. Let’s toast, shall we? To Kade Cavanaugh for Mayor?”

  “Wait, wait, wait! We can’t miss the first shot!” Dwayne and Jamilah stepped into our section, both looking crisp as new hundred dollar bills.

  Erik yelped as he leapt off of the couch. “What the… you’re Dwayne Newsome! I heard you was here, man. I just…wow! I'm a huge fan. I can't believe my life right now...” I thought Erik might cry but Dwayne laughed and clapped him on the shoulder with a huge hand.

  “Relax, young man. What’s your name?”

  Erik stuck out his hand and, voice shaking with excitement, introduced himself. Sheila arrived with another tray and this time, the entire room, except for the two who couldn’t drink, downed shots in honor of KC’s campaign.

  “Whew!” KC fanned himself as he set his glass down on the table. “I haven’t had anything stronger than a beer in a while.”

  “I know the feeling. I try to pace myself.”

  “Good call. I remember how you get around alcohol.”

  My eyes rolled, but I laughed. KC was predictable. I knew that would come up. I also knew he would keep poking at it until I reacted. “Would you like to meet my friends Jamilah and Dwayne?”

  An hour later, we were all cozy, comfortable and warm, spread out around our section. TC, Monica and Evonne were deep in conversation about Monica’s maternity and newborn shoots. “Do ya’ll do makeup? I want my face beat when I take those pictures with this baby. This is our last, so I want to do everything I ever wanted to do with this one.”

  “I do makeup,” Evonne said, sipping on a cocktail. “And I can do your hair, too.”

  The guys were all standing near the unlit fireplace, their hands wrapped around bottles of cold beer.

  “I mean, yeah. It’s work,” Dwayne was saying. “But at that age, there’s a lot of hero worship. Those kids will just be excited that you’re there and they’ll do whatever you say. Plus, it’s what, one night a week? Especially since you’re running for Mayor, I’d definitely consider coaching the basketball team. Good PR…and to go further than that, the district would love to have you come speak at some of the schools.”

  KC shrugged. “I did plenty of that when I was in the league, so that’s no big deal. But kids don’t vote— how does that help me?”

  “Kids coming home talking about how Kade Cavanaugh came to their school and gave them a word of encouragement and hope, talking about how they can make it out of here, that they could be somebody?” Dwayne elbowed KC, who appeared to be deep in thought. “That goes a long way, man. I mean, no pressure, but think about it.”

  “I told KC it would be a good idea, but he said—”

  “Hey, Leslie,” KC interrupted. “Let’s uh… why don’t you introduce me around the place? I should be meeting people, right?”

  He set down his beer and rubbed his palms together. I set down my glass of wine, giving him a hard stare. Lately he was cutting me off and interrupting me, especially if I was about to talk about his knee. I wanted to know what the big damn deal was, but I didn’t want to start something with him tonight.

  Later, though? It was on.

  “Okay. Fine. Yeah, let’s meet some people.” I led him out of the section and immediately ran into the bar manager, who introduced KC to the head cook and most of the kitchen staff and the wait staff. We made our way into the dining room, where dinner was wrapping up, so people were basically hanging out at the tables. After ten, the kitchen stopped serving except for small plates of easy to cook, finger food. It didn’t take long for a small crowd to gather around KC. He shook hands, signed a few napkins and took more than a few pictures.

  “So you all know that I’m running for Mayor of Potter Lake, right?” Heads nodded all around and a few murmurs filled the air. “I know Mayor Adams has been leading this city for a long time. He’s done a lot to prop the town up after the closing of the mill…”

  KC glanced back at me, to make sure he was delivering the spiel correctly. I nodded, gesturing at him to continue. “But there are some things, I’m sure you’ve noticed, that need attention. The town is growing and that’s great. But if the changes don’t benefit us all, then they hurt us all. I believe Mayor Adams’ time leading this town has come to an end and in the absence of anyone else that wants to take on the job, I’m asking for your trust, for your vote for Mayor in October.”

  “Well, what kind of things are you talking about changing around here?” asked a person from the back who of the room.

  “Uhm…” KC nervously stroked his goatee while he pondered the question. Then he grabbed a chair and took a seat, resting his ankle on the opposite knee. “I’m not so much looking to change things, as keep things that are working… working. And to stop things that are killing us, like big box and chain stores.”

  Someone snorted and hummed, “Mmmhmmm…”

  “A wise person told me that that Potter Lake doesn't want to be Healy, and I understand that. I’d like to be involved in keeping the charm of this town intact, while bringing improvements that we actually need, that the Mayor is stalling on— like street lamps. Maybe some kind of bus or trolley system.”

  “What's to say we elect you and things don’t change? What if things get worse? Shouldn’t we stick with the devil we know?”

  KC lifted both shoulders and held up his hands, palms up. “I’m not going to trash talk the Mayor, and I’m not trying to persuade anyone. If your vote is for Mayor Adams because that’s who you’re comfortable with, so be it. But if you’re looking for someone with a positive vision for this town, who’s looking to protect you as a homeowner, as a business owner, as a resident here and not looking to fill my pockets… my name will be on that ballot. The choice will be yours.”

  KC stood and thanked everyone for their time. “How’d I do?” he asked, as we walked back to our section.

  “Really good. You were down to earth, you got them thinking about what matters. Now that there’s a choice and they have to think about who they want as Mayor?” I nodded, glancing up at him. “You’ve given them a good alternative to a crook who doesn't have their best interest at heart.”

  “Okay. Good. So uh… come with me a second.” KC gripped my arm, pulling me down a hallway that was dark, since the kitchen had closed down. He stepped closer, gently edging my back against the wall. And then stepped closer until our bodies were almost in contact.

  And then stepped closer. My body reacted to his mere proximity like his hormones were calling out to mine.

  “What about you? Have I given you a good alternative to a crook? And I’m not talking about the Mayor right now.”

  I swallowed hard, looking everywhere but at KC, until he tucked his finger under my chin and tipped my head up. In the shadows all I could only see his silhouette, but I had memorized that face. I knew his expression was intense.

  “Leslie?”

  “What? What do you want me to say right now? We’ve had two, maybe
three civil conversations and you felt like that meant everything was good and you could kiss me—”

  “Did I offend you by kissing you? If I overstepped, I’ll apologize.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just, I don’t know. Confused.”

  “About what? Me and you had a thing back in the day. There was a huge misunderstanding… on your part, I might add.”

  “Okay, that’s what this is about? I’m not going to stand in a dark hallway and argue about how us falling apart was my fault. I’m going back to our group.” I tried to sidestep KC, but he slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me firmly up against him.

  “Alright, alright. I might have played into it, a little, by keeping things from you. But let’s stay on task. The point is, here we are. All this time later, in the same place. With… feelings for each other. I’m not just being cocky, right? There’s something there. I kissed you and you liked it. Or did I misread that?”

  I was tempted to lie and say I didn’t, but I couldn’t. I shook my head. “No. You didn’t misread that. But it doesn’t mean that—”

  My argument was cut off by the dip of his head and the brush of his lips against mine…. feather soft, the kind of soft that was almost a tease, that was there, but just barely. The sensation sent tingles down my spine and a flush of heat through my body.

  And then it was a full on kiss— his tongue slowly, languidly exploring my mouth. He tasted faintly of the beer he’d been drinking and the sweetness of the shots he had bought for our section. He cupped my chin, his thumb stroking my cheek and his fingers threatening to undo my updo.

  I pulled back, not because it wasn’t amazing but because I knew that if we kept kissing, some things were going to happen in that hallway. And if I got caught in a dark hallway at The Kat, my mother would hear about it before 8am.

  “KC, we can’t do this here.”

  I placed my palms on his chest and pushed him back so I could maneuver out of his arms, but KC still had those lightning fast reflexes that had served him well on the court. His other arm shot out and caught me, bringing me back to him.

  “Then let’s go somewhere where we can do this. Because I like doing this and I want to do more than this. Don’t you?”

  “Yes,” fell out of my mouth before I could stop it. “But we shouldn’t—”

  “Why? Because we’re not grown ass people that like each other? Or because our friends say we shouldn’t? Or because you’re helping me run for Mayor?”

  “At least two of those reasons sound really good.”

  “I know. Common sense and all that. But this thing between you and me, it throws common sense out the window. Let’s just… let’s just go talk.”

  Both he and I knew we weren’t going anywhere to “talk”. But I didn’t feel like calling it out… because I wanted to do everything but talk.

  My bottom lip crept between my teeth as a whirlwind of thoughts chased themselves around in my head. I didn’t know what to do. Or what I wanted.

  Well, that was a lie.

  For almost a year before he showed up in Potter Lake, there were rumors that he was moving back. And the whole town made sure I knew the second he had arrived. I made myself stay away from him, or at least I made sure I never came into contact with him; not when I stalked his salon, and not when I figured out where he was living. I knew I was weak, and I had baggage when it came to him and he probably wouldn’t even care that I was still here. And that I still cared about him.

  When he never sought me out, not even to say hello, I had my answer. I was determined not to be the old girlfriend that still pined for him like a lovesick teenager. He’d see that from a mile away, and take advantage.

  But this… was different, I thought. I felt. We were both older. And wiser. Had lived and learned. To have an opportunity to reconnect with him as an adult was a gift.

  Besides... yeah, we were grown ass adults that made our own decisions.

  “There you two are!”

  I audibly sighed at the sound of Tamera behind me, butting her nose in as usual. “The dj tonight is really good. He’s spinning records— like actual records, not computer keys. Come dance with us!”

  “Give us a minute,” said KC, his gaze fixed on mine.

  “Ya’ll should really—”

  “Give. us. a minute. We’re talking.”

  “Les—”

  “Tamera,” I snapped, over my shoulder. “Go away.”

  I heard her scoff an angry, haughty breath, and then the clack of her heels on the wood floor as she walked away.

  KC chuckled. “You told Tamera to go away. Am I going to have to pay for that?”

  “No. I will, though. So I think we should probably rejoin our party but later... what were you saying about going somewhere where we could… talk?”

  Chapter Twenty

  KC

  * * *

  Becoming the next Mayor of Potter Lake was the very last thing on my mind. My potential constituents, our friends, the Kit Kat Lounge, the semi-private section Leslie arranged for us, our drinks, the dance floor, the music… the DJ.

  Not a single one of those things mattered more than knowing that in a very short time — though Leslie was not aware how short—I would steal her away and take her home with me.

  Where we would… talk.

  There would probably be very little talking happening, at least not for a while. But I was willing to keep up the pretense for her comfort.

  We made a deal. We would return to the party and live it up with our friends, try to meet more people, make sure folks around town saw me actually hanging out around town, spending money and tipping well. And just when everyone was deep into having a good time, we would make our escape. I couldn’t wait to get her alone, to taste her tongue in my mouth, to feel her skin under my fingertips, to hear those sounds she made when she was getting it good.

  So we went back to our party and had a good time drinking cocktails from mason jars, eating cajun catfish bites, fried macaroni and cheese balls and cornbread, talking to people— talking to lots and lots of people and grinding and swaying to the hard, heavy beat thumping from the speakers overhead.

  The opening beats of “Feelin’ Myself” poured out of the speakers and the crowd went wild. Leslie and I were already dancing, her body pressed tight up against mine. I gripped her waist and bent my head so she could hear me.

  “I think we should go. Everyone’s so into this song, no one will see us leave.”

  “Now?” She asked, her eyes wide.

  “Yeah, now. You’re not backing out, are you?”

  “N-no. I just… okay. Let’s make it quick, before they notice.”

  I grabbed her hand and made a beeline for the edge of the dance floor, then I pulled her through the lounge and the restaurant and out the front door. Total time… about 39 seconds.

  “Okay, I said make it quick. I didn't say drag me through the place.”

  I chuckled, leading the way to my truck. “That’s the only thing I’m going to do quick, Les. Don’t get used to it.”

  I pressed the keyfob button to unlock the doors, then opened the door for Leslie to help her up into the truck. “Wait, what about my car?”

  I leaned in to press my lips against hers. “I’ll bring you back to get your car tomorrow. Or the next day.”

  I laughed and shut the door, then jogged around to my side and got in. I started up the truck and pulled out of the parking space, careful to not tap Leslie’s car in the process. “That’s a nice ride,” I said, eying her Infiniti G37. “Did ole boy buy that for you?”

  “Ole boy? You mean Dexter?”

  “Yeah. Inmate 67343—”

  “Do you really want to go there, KC? We aren’t even out of the parking lot. I can easily jump out and head back inside.”

  “Okay, okay.” I turned out of the parking lot and onto the street, before she really did jump out. “I thought it was funny.”

  “Obviously,” she said, her tone dry
and unamused.

  “I really am sorry. I’ll shut up.”

  “Thank you,” she snapped, folding her arms and staring out the window.

  Shit, I cursed at myself. I thought we’d talk and joke and flirt on the way to my house, building up the tension until we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other once we got out of the truck. But the way things were going...if I could rewind the past five minutes and not make that sorry ass joke about her ex, I would have.

  “I bought that car,” she said quietly. “About five years ago, I got a check in the mail from a financial institution. It was a disbursement from a trust account. My Grandy had been saving money my whole life, sending off a little here and there. When I turned twenty-five, the account paid out. I had no idea she’d done that. I was so excited, I ran right out and used some of it to buy my dream car.”

  She sighed, unfolding her arms and stretching them out, then rested her hands in her lap. “The next year, she had a stroke. Then I found out about the charges against Dexter. Sometimes I wonder if I’m being punished for being materialistic.”

  “I’ve never known you to be materialistic. And I know if you bought that car, you sought out a good deal. You didn’t just buy something right off the sales floor.”

  When I glanced over at her, she was gazing out of the front window and smiling. “Look at you, thinking you still know me.”

  “You used to compare Ramen prices, Les.”

  She giggled. “We’re not going to argue about this fifteen years later. The store brand was cheaper.”

  “The packaging was smaller. The ten for a dollar deal was better. I’ll go to my grave arguing that.”

  “We’re gonna argue about that until we die, then?”

  “I hope so. I hope you’re around to bug me about it when we’re in our eighties.”

  “You do, huh?” She glanced over at me, just as I looked over to see if she was looking at me.

  “Yeah. I do.” I reached across the center console to lay a hand on her thigh. I squeezed, not hard but enough that she knew it wasn’t an accident. She didn’t brush my hand away or suck her teeth or anything, so I left it there.