Taming Beast Chapter 1
“Why the fuck you looking at me like that?”
Beast didn’t answer.
He just sat across from me with one arm stretched across the back of the booth, staring.
That was another thing about his irritating ass. He didn’t believe every question deserved an answer. Sometimes he’d just look at you until you either figured the shit out yourself or got irritated enough to stop asking.
Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t everybody.
“Maurice.”
His jaw tightened.
I smiled.
“Don’t fucking call me that.”
“Then stop staring at me, Maurice.”
“I can look where I want.”
“And I can call you what I want.”
His eyes narrowed, but I could see the amusement hiding behind them.
Everybody else called him Beast.
Everybody.
I didn’t even know how long it had been since I’d heard one of his friends call him Maurice. Hell, half the people around him probably didn’t even know that was his real name.
But I did.
And because I knew he hated when I used it, naturally, I used that shit whenever possible.
“Maurice Jackson,” I added just to be an asshole.
“Danielle.”
“What?”
“Keep playing.”
I laughed and reached for my drink.
We’d been sitting in this restaurant for almost two hours, and neither one of us had made a move to leave. That was normal for us. Beast and I could talk about absolutely nothing and somehow turn it into a three-hour conversation.
Tonight’s topic had started with my latest dating disaster.
Apparently, I had terrible taste in men.
According to Beast, anyway.
Personally, I thought I had terrible luck.
There was a difference.
“So you really blocked him?” Beast asked.
“Hell yeah.”
“For what?”
I sat my glass down. “Were you not listening to anything I just said?”
“I heard you.”
“Then why are you asking stupid questions?”
“Because you dramatic.”
I rolled my eyes.
“He disappeared for two days, Beast.”
“He got a job?”
“Yes.”
“Kids?”
“Yes.”
“Life?”
“Maurice.”
He chuckled.
That low ass sound rolled out of him, and for some reason, I felt it more than I heard it.
I ignored that.
“He disappeared for two days,” I repeated. “Then popped back up talking about some ‘what you doing?’ Nigga, fuck you. That’s what I’m doing.”
Beast shook his head.
“You don’t like that man anyway.”
“That is not the point.”
“That’s exactly the point.”
“No, the point is communication.”
“The point is you looking for reasons not to fuck with somebody you already don’t wanna fuck with.”
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
Then opened it again.
“You always think you know everything.”
“Nah.”
He picked up his glass.
“I just know you.”
Something about the way he said it made me pause.
Not because the words were strange.
They weren’t.
Beast did know me.
We’d been friends long enough for him to know when I was really mad versus when I just wanted to complain. He knew I hated when people called me repeatedly instead of sending a text. He knew I needed at least twenty minutes to myself after work before anybody started asking me for shit.
He knew I could be stubborn.
I knew he was worse.
He knew about the men I’d dated.
I knew about the women he’d fucked.
Well…
Most of them.
One in particular I would’ve preferred not knowing about.
My little sister.
Yeah.
That happened.
One time.
And if I had my way, it would be erased from everybody’s fucking memory.
Especially mine.
The whole situation was messy as hell. My sister had her own on-again, off-again man she’d been dealing with forever, and somewhere in the middle of their bullshit, she and Beast crossed a line that never should’ve been crossed.
One night.
One time.
Never happened again.
At least that’s what both of them claimed.
And considering neither one acted like they gave a damn about the other afterward, I believed them.
Didn’t make the shit any less weird.
But that was years ago.
Beast and I were friends before it happened.
Somehow, we stayed friends after.
Which was probably why I’d never looked at him as anything else.
Not seriously, anyway.
I wasn’t blind.
Beast was fine.
Annoyingly fine.
The type of fine that made women fix their hair when he walked into a room.
Dark skin. Tattoos covering damn near every piece of him they could find. Locs hanging past his shoulders. A thick beard that always looked freshly groomed even when he swore he hadn’t been to the barber.
And his eyes…
That nigga’s eyes were dangerous.
Dark. Heavy. Always watching.
Beast rarely needed to ask what was going on because he’d usually already figured it out.
He could walk into a room and tell you who didn’t like who before anybody said a word.
He noticed cars.
People.
Hands.
Doors.
Energy.
Everything.
Street smart wasn’t even enough to describe him.
Beast moved like somebody who learned young that not paying attention could cost you.
I’d asked him about it before.
He’d given me just enough of an answer to let me know not to ask again.
So I didn’t.
That was how our friendship worked.
I knew when to push him.
And I knew when to leave shit alone.
“You gonna keep staring into space or you gonna admit I’m right?”
His voice pulled me from my thoughts.
“You’re never right.”
“I’m right about you.”
“Here you go.”
“You don’t like that nigga.”
“I liked him enough.”
Beast’s eyebrow lifted.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means exactly what I said.”
“Nah. You either like somebody or you don’t.”
“That is not how relationships work.”
“You wasn’t in a relationship.”
“Dating. Whatever.”
He shook his head.
“What?”
“You keep entertaining niggas you don’t even like.”
“I liked him.”
“You liked the idea.”
I leaned back.
“Okay, Dr. Phil.”
“I ain’t Dr. Phil.”
“No shit.”
“I’m just telling you what I see.”
“And what exactly do you see, Beast?”
That made him quiet.
His eyes settled on me again.
There it was.
That stare.
I’d seen Beast look at people a million times, but lately there was something different when he looked at me.
Or maybe I was imagining shit.
I took another sip of my drink.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“See, that’s that weird shit you do.”
“What weird shit?”
“Stare at people.”
“I ain’t staring at people.”
“You’re staring at me.”
His eyes didn’t move.
“I know.”
My fingers tightened slightly around my glass.
Okay.
What the fuck was that?
I laughed because suddenly I didn’t know what else to do.
“You’re weird.”
“Mhm.”
“And irritating.”
“Mhm.”
“And ugly.”
That finally got a reaction.
His mouth curved.
“You don’t believe that.”
“I absolutely do.”
“You a terrible liar.”
“Who said I’m lying?”
Beast leaned forward.
Not much.
Just enough to bring him closer across the table.
“Your eyes.”
I frowned.
“My eyes what?”
“Tell on you.”
My stomach did something stupid.
I immediately rolled my eyes to cover it.
“Boy, please.”
His smile got a little bigger.
And for whatever reason, that irritated me.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You keep saying nothing while clearly meaning something.”
He sat back.
“Eat your food, Danielle.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Then stop asking questions you don’t want answers to.”
I stared at him.
He stared back.
And there was something in the air between us that hadn’t been there before.
Or maybe it had.
Maybe I just hadn’t noticed it.
I broke eye contact first.
Fuck that.
I grabbed another fry.
“So what you doing after this?” I asked.
“Poker.”
I sucked my teeth.
“Of course.”
“What that’s supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Nah. You got something to say.”
“Nope.”
“Say it.”
“I said nothing.”
“You don’t know how to say nothing.”
I laughed. “And you do?”
“Better than you.”
“You play poker too damn much.”
“I make money.”
“You also lose money.”
“Not often.”
“According to you.”
“According to my bank account.”
I shook my head.
Poker was Beast’s second home.
Some men went to bars.
Some played video games.
Beast sat around tables for hours watching other men lie to his face while trying to take their money.
Honestly, the shit fit him perfectly.
He was patient.
Calculated.
And annoyingly good at reading people.
“You ever think maybe you just like watching people lie?” I asked.
“All the time.”
“That’s weird.”
“People tell you everything when they think they’re hiding something.”
I looked at him.
“See? Weird.”
He laughed again.
I hated how much I liked that sound.
Wait.
What?
I reached for my purse.
“I’m ready to go.”
Beast looked at the half-full plate in front of me.
“You barely ate.”
“I’m full.”
“No, you ain’t.”
“Now you know my stomach too?”
“I know you.”
There it was again.
I stood before my brain could turn those three words into something they weren’t.
Beast tossed enough cash on the table to cover both of us.
“I can pay for myself.”
“I know.”
“Then why do you always do that?”
“Because I want to.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“You don’t have to.”
And that was Beast.
He didn’t ask.
He just did shit.
Sometimes it was sweet.
Sometimes it irritated the hell out of me.
Usually both.
We walked outside into the warm night air, and I immediately started digging through my purse for my keys.
“Where you park?”
I pointed across the lot.
Beast looked toward my car.
Then around the parking lot.
Always watching.
Always checking.
“You ain’t gotta walk me.”
“I know.”
There he went with that shit again.
I started toward my car anyway.
He followed.
“You know,” I said, “normal people say you’re welcome when somebody says thank you.”
“You ain’t say thank you.”
“I was about to.”
“No, you wasn’t.”
“Maurice.”
“Danielle.”
I smiled despite myself.
When we reached my car, I turned around.
And damn near walked into his chest.
“Why are you so fucking close?”
Beast looked down at me.
“I’m standing.”
“You’re standing on top of me.”
“You dramatic.”
“Back up.”
He didn’t.
And suddenly I became extremely aware of everything.
His cologne.
His height.
The gold chain sitting against his black shirt.
The tattoos disappearing beneath the sleeves.
The way his locs were pulled back tonight, exposing the sharp line of his beard.
And those damn eyes.
I swallowed.
Beast’s gaze dropped.
Not to my chest.
Not to my ass.
My mouth.
Only for a second.
Then back to my eyes.
My stomach tightened.
Oh.
Oh, hell no.
I stepped around him and unlocked my door.
“Move.”
A quiet chuckle came from behind me.
“What the fuck is funny?”
“Nothin’.”
I turned.
Beast was watching me again.
“What?”
“Why you nervous?”
“I am not nervous.”
“You are.”
“Beast, please.”
“You started messing with your purse.”
I looked down.
My fingers were twisting the strap.
I immediately stopped.
That motherfucker smiled.
My eyes narrowed.
“You think you know everything.”
“Nah.”
He stepped closer.
Not enough to touch me.
Just enough that I had to tilt my head slightly to look up at him.
“I told you.”
His voice dropped.
“I just know you.”
My heart kicked against my chest.
For a few seconds, neither of us said anything.
Then Beast reached past me.
My whole body went still.
His arm brushed mine as he opened my car door.
That was it.
That’s all the nigga did.
Opened my fucking door.
Yet my body reacted like he’d done something completely different.
And judging by the way his eyes slowly traveled over my face…
He noticed.
Of course he fucking noticed.
“Get home safe,” he said.
I climbed into my car.
“Goodnight, Maurice.”
His jaw tightened.
There.
That made me feel better.
“Keep playing with me, Danielle.”
I smiled as I pulled the door closed.
But when I started the car and looked through the windshield, Beast was still standing there.
Watching me.
I pulled out of the parking lot trying to convince myself that nothing weird had just happened.
That was Beast.
My friend.
The same Beast I’d talked shit with for years.
The same Beast who knew entirely too much about my dating life.
The same Beast who had fucked my little sister.
Once.
Which was exactly why whatever the hell I’d felt standing beside my car didn’t matter.
Nothing was changing.
Nothing could change.
My phone connected to the Bluetooth as I turned onto the main road.
Thirty seconds later, it rang.
BEAST
I frowned and answered.
“What?”
His deep voice filled my car.
“You ain’t gotta sound so happy to hear from me.”
“I literally just left you.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you calling?”
A pause.
“Making sure you get home.”
I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me.
“You could’ve texted.”
“I could’ve.”
“So why didn’t you?”
Another pause.
Then that low voice came through my speakers.
“Wanted to hear your voice.”
My hand tightened around the steering wheel.
Silence.
Beast chuckled.
“What?” I snapped.
“Nothin’.”
“Then stop laughing.”
“I’m not laughing.”
“You literally just—”
“Drive, Danielle.”
I sucked my teeth.
“I cannot stand you.”
“I know.”
“And stop saying you know everything.”
“I ain’t say everything.”
He paused.
“I said I know you.”
There went my stomach again.
I stared through the windshield.
For the first time since I’d known him, I didn’t have a smart-ass response waiting.
And apparently…
Beast noticed that too.
“Why you quiet?”
“I’m driving.”
“Mhm.”
“Goodnight, Maurice.”
“Danielle.”
“What?”
His voice lowered.
“Quit acting like you don’t feel that shit.”
My breath caught.
“Feel what?”
Silence.
For half a second, I thought maybe he’d realized how fucking ridiculous he sounded.
Then—
“That.”
I frowned at the road.
“That what?”
“That shit you just did.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You got quiet.”
“I’m driving.”
“Nah.”
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
“You get quiet when you nervous.”
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
“I am not nervous.”
“You grip shit too.”
I immediately loosened my hand.
Silence.
Then that motherfucker laughed.
Low.
Knowing.
“See?”
“Fuck you.”
“And you stop looking at me.”
My stomach dropped.
“Maurice—”
“At the restaurant, you was running your mouth just fine.”
“I was talking.”
“Outside?”
His voice dropped lower.
“Couldn’t even look at me.”
“Because you were standing too fucking close!”
“I know.”
I stopped.
Oh.
He knew.
“You did that on purpose?”
“Yeah.”
My mouth fell open.
“You are so fucking—”
Headlights filled my rearview mirror.
Fast.
Too fast.
I frowned.
The vehicle behind me was coming up hard enough that for a second I thought the driver hadn’t realized how close they were.
I moved into the other lane.
They moved too.
My smile disappeared.
“Beast.”
His entire tone changed.
“What’s wrong?”
No teasing.
No laughter.
Just alert.
“There’s a truck behind me.”
“What kind?”
“Black. Tinted windows.”
“Where?”
I looked at the road signs ahead of me.
“I’m coming up on—”
The impact cut me off.
My body jerked forward.
I screamed.
“DANIELLE!”
“What the fuck?!”
My hands locked around the steering wheel as I fought to keep control of the car.
“Danielle! Talk to me!”
“They hit me!”
“What?”
“They fucking hit me!”
My heart slammed against my chest.
The truck dropped back.
For half a second, I thought it was over.
Then it accelerated again.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“They’re still behind me.”
“Keep driving.”
“Maurice—”
“Listen to me.”
His voice was different now.
Not louder.
Somehow that would’ve scared me less.
Calm.
Controlled.
Beast.
“Keep driving. I’m coming.”
I pressed harder on the gas.
My hands were shaking.
I had a baby at home.
That was the only thought my brain could hold.
Maylaisa.
I had to get home to my baby.
“Maurice.”
“I’m here.”
“I’m scared.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
His answer came immediately.
“I know.”
My eyes burned.
“I need to get home.”
“You are.”
“Maurice—”
“Danielle.”
Something in his voice cut through the panic.
“You’re getting home.”
I swallowed.
“How do you know?”
A pause.
Then—
“Because I’m coming.”
My chest tightened.
This man.
This fucking man.
Even terrified, I believed him.
The truck came closer again.
“Beast—”
“I know.”
“How the fuck do you know?!”
“I can see you.”
My head snapped toward the mirror.
And there—
Headlights.
Another vehicle closing the distance behind us.
His.
Relief hit me so hard I almost cried.
“Maurice.”
“I got you.”
The next few moments blurred together—horns, tires against pavement, the black truck finally breaking away and disappearing into the night.
And then Maurice was there.
Really there.
By the time I managed to pull over somewhere safe, my hands were shaking so badly I could barely get my seat belt off.
My door opened.
Maurice.
He reached for me immediately.
“Come here.”
I practically fell out of the car.
His hands moved over my arms.
My shoulders.
My face.
Checking.
Looking.
“Where you hurt?”
“I’m not.”
“You hit your head?”
“No.”
“Anything hurt?”
“No.”
His hands framed my face.
“Look at me.”
I did.
His eyes moved over mine.
“Talk.”
“What?”
“Talk to me.”
“I’m okay.”
“Again.”
“Maurice—”
“Danielle.”
His jaw was tight.
“Tell me you’re okay.”
And suddenly I realized—
he was scared too.
Beast didn’t look scared.
Maybe nobody else would’ve noticed.
But I knew Maurice.
I knew the way his jaw locked when he was holding something in.
The way his eyes kept moving over me even after I’d told him I wasn’t hurt.
The way his hands hadn’t completely stopped shaking.
Very slightly.
But enough.
I covered one of them with mine.
“I’m okay.”
His eyes closed.
Just for a second.
Then he pulled me against his chest.
Hard.
I wrapped my arms around him.
And everything I’d been holding back broke.
My face pressed into his shirt.
His hand went to the back of my head.
“I got you.”
I breathed him in.
Cologne.
Soap.
Maurice.
Safe.
“You came for me.”
His hand stopped.
Then he pulled back enough to look at me.
The expression on his face made my breath catch.
“Danielle.”
“What?”
“You called.”
Like that explained everything.
Maybe to him it did.
His thumb moved underneath my eye.
“If you call me, I’m coming.”
My throat tightened.
“Every time?”
He stared at me.
There was no smile.
No teasing.
None of that shit from ten minutes ago.
“Every fucking time.”
My eyes burned.
“Maurice…”
“I don’t give a fuck where I’m at.”
His hand settled against the side of my neck.
“What I’m doing.”
His eyes stayed locked on mine.
“Who I’m with.”
My heart beat harder.
“If you need me, I’m coming.”
And there it was again.
That feeling.
Except this wasn’t butterflies.
This wasn’t me getting nervous because he stood too close.
This was something deeper.
Something that settled into my bones.
Safety.
I had spent years dating men who couldn’t return a fucking text.
And the man standing in front of me had heard fear enter my voice and moved before I even finished telling him what was wrong.
“You always do that,” I whispered.
His brows pulled together.
“Do what?”
“Show up.”
His expression changed.
Like he didn’t understand why that was something worth mentioning.
“That’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“For me?”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“Especially for you.”
Oh.
My heart did that stupid shit again.
Except this time—
I couldn’t blame it on his beard.
Or his locs.
Or him standing too close.
This was Maurice.
The part underneath Beast.
And somehow that scared me more.
He didn’t leave when he realized I was okay.
Of course he didn’t.
He checked my car.
Made sure I could drive it.
Then followed me all the way home.
When I pulled into my driveway, he pulled in behind me.
I got out.
“You don’t have to stay.”
“I know.”
I almost laughed.
There was that answer again.
He walked me to the door.
Waited while I unlocked it.
“Go check on Maylaisa.”
I looked at him.
“You’re bossy.”
“Danielle.”
“I’m going.”
I stepped inside.
Then turned.
“Maurice?”
“What?”
“Thank you.”
He looked at me for a second.
Then nodded toward the house.
“Lock the door.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Goodnight.”
“Lock it.”
I closed the door.
Locked it.
Then checked on Maylaisa.
She was asleep.
Safe.
Beautiful.
Completely unaware that for a few minutes tonight, her mother had been terrified she wouldn’t make it back to her.
I kissed her forehead.
“I love you, baby.”
Then went to my bedroom.
Twenty minutes later, I looked through the window.
Maurice’s vehicle was still outside.
I frowned.
I texted him.
Me: Why are you still outside my house?
His response came immediately.
Beast: Making sure they ain’t circle back.
Of course.
Me: I’m okay.
Beast: I know.
I smiled.
Me: You can go home.
Beast: In a minute.
That minute became an hour.
He sat outside my house for a whole fucking hour.
And somehow, instead of irritating me—
I slept better knowing he was there.
My phone buzzed again.
Beast: Door still locked?
I laughed.
Me: YES MAURICE.
Three dots.
Beast: Keep playing.
I smiled.
Me: I really appreciate you.
This time his response took longer.
Beast: I always got you.
My smile softened.
Me: I know. Love you. Now go home.
Three dots.
Then—
Beast: Love you too.
Another message followed.
Beast: Check the door again.
I laughed.
Me: GOODNIGHT BEAST.
Beast: Night Danielle.
I put my phone down.
But sleep didn’t come immediately.
Because less than two hours ago, I’d been sitting across from Maurice wondering why the hell he’d been looking at me differently.
Then he’d stood too close.
Looked at my mouth.
Called because he wanted to hear my voice.
Told me to quit pretending I didn’t feel whatever the hell was happening between us.
And then—
when I needed him—
he came.
No hesitation.
No questions about whether I was overreacting.
No telling me he’d call somebody.
No let me know when you get home.
He came.
And maybe that shouldn’t have meant as much as it did.
But it did.
Because Beast had always made me feel protected.
Tonight was the first time I realized Maurice made me feel safe.
There was a difference.
A big fucking difference.
And lying there in the dark, I finally understood why the way he’d been looking at me all night had gotten underneath my skin.
It wasn’t because Beast was fine.
I’d known that for years.
It wasn’t because he knew my tells.
Or because he’d stood too close.
Or even because he’d looked at my mouth.
It was because somewhere between friendship and whatever the fuck tonight had been—
the safest man in my life had started looking at me like a woman he wanted.
And the scariest part?
I wasn’t sure I wanted him to stop.
“Why you quiet?”
“I’m driving.”
“Mhm.”
“Goodnight, Maurice.”
“Danielle.”
“What?”
His voice lowered.
“Quit acting like you don’t feel that shit.”
My breath caught.
“Feel what?”
Silence.
For half a second, I thought maybe he’d realized how fucking ridiculous he sounded.
Then—
“That.”
I frowned at the road.
“That what?”
“That shit you just did.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You got quiet.”
“I’m driving.”
“Nah.”
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
“You get quiet when you nervous.”
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
“I am not nervous.”
“You grip shit too.”
I immediately loosened my hand.
Silence.
Then that motherfucker laughed.
Low.
Knowing.
“See?”
“Fuck you.”
“And you stop looking at me.”
My stomach dropped.
“Maurice—”
“At the restaurant, you was running your mouth just fine.”
“I was talking.”
“Outside?”
His voice dropped lower.
“Couldn’t even look at me.”
“Because you were standing too fucking close!”
“I know.”
I stopped.
Oh.
He knew.
“You did that on purpose?”
“Yeah.”
My mouth fell open.
“You are so fucking—”
Headlights filled my rearview mirror.
Fast.
Too fast.
I frowned.
The vehicle behind me was coming up hard enough that for a second I thought the driver hadn’t realized how close they were.
I moved into the other lane.
They moved too.
My smile disappeared.
“Beast.”
His entire tone changed.
“What’s wrong?”
No teasing.
No laughter.
Just alert.
“There’s a truck behind me.”
“What kind?”
“Black. Tinted windows.”
“Where?”
I looked at the road signs ahead of me.
“I’m coming up on—”
The impact cut me off.
My body jerked forward.
I screamed.
“DANIELLE!”
“What the fuck?!”
My hands locked around the steering wheel as I fought to keep control of the car.
“Danielle! Talk to me!”
“They hit me!”
“What?”
“They fucking hit me!”
My heart slammed against my chest.
The truck dropped back.
For half a second, I thought it was over.
Then it accelerated again.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“They’re still behind me.”
“Keep driving.”
“Maurice—”
“Listen to me.”
His voice was different now.
Not louder.
Somehow that would’ve scared me less.
Calm.
Controlled.
Beast.
“Keep driving. I’m coming.”
I pressed harder on the gas.
My hands were shaking.
I had a baby at home.
That was the only thought my brain could hold.
Maylaisa.
I had to get home to my baby.
“Maurice.”
“I’m here.”
“I’m scared.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
His answer came immediately.
“I know.”
My eyes burned.
“I need to get home.”
“You are.”
“Maurice—”
“Danielle.”
Something in his voice cut through the panic.
“You’re getting home.”
I swallowed.
“How do you know?”
A pause.
Then—
“Because I’m coming.”
My chest tightened.
This man.
This fucking man.
Even terrified, I believed him.
The truck came closer again.
“Beast—”
“I know.”
“How the fuck do you know?!”
“I can see you.”
My head snapped toward the mirror.
And there—
Headlights.
Another vehicle closing the distance behind us.
His.
Relief hit me so hard I almost cried.
“Maurice.”
“I got you.”
The next few moments blurred together—horns, tires against pavement, the black truck finally breaking away and disappearing into the night.
And then Maurice was there.
Really there.
By the time I managed to pull over somewhere safe, my hands were shaking so badly I could barely get my seat belt off.
My door opened.
Maurice.
He reached for me immediately.
“Come here.”
I practically fell out of the car.
His hands moved over my arms.
My shoulders.
My face.
Checking.
Looking.
“Where you hurt?”
“I’m not.”
“You hit your head?”
“No.”
“Anything hurt?”
“No.”
His hands framed my face.
“Look at me.”
I did.
His eyes moved over mine.
“Talk.”
“What?”
“Talk to me.”
“I’m okay.”
“Again.”
“Maurice—”
“Danielle.”
His jaw was tight.
“Tell me you’re okay.”
And suddenly I realized—
he was scared too.
Beast didn’t look scared.
Maybe nobody else would’ve noticed.
But I knew Maurice.
I knew the way his jaw locked when he was holding something in.
The way his eyes kept moving over me even after I’d told him I wasn’t hurt.
The way his hands hadn’t completely stopped shaking.
Very slightly.
But enough.
I covered one of them with mine.
“I’m okay.”
His eyes closed.
Just for a second.
Then he pulled me against his chest.
Hard.
I wrapped my arms around him.
And everything I’d been holding back broke.
My face pressed into his shirt.
His hand went to the back of my head.
“I got you.”
I breathed him in.
Cologne.
Soap.
Maurice.
Safe.
“You came for me.”
His hand stopped.
Then he pulled back enough to look at me.
The expression on his face made my breath catch.
“Danielle.”
“What?”
“You called.”
Like that explained everything.
Maybe to him it did.
His thumb moved underneath my eye.
“If you call me, I’m coming.”
My throat tightened.
“Every time?”
He stared at me.
There was no smile.
No teasing.
None of that shit from ten minutes ago.
“Every fucking time.”
My eyes burned.
“Maurice…”
“I don’t give a fuck where I’m at.”
His hand settled against the side of my neck.
“What I’m doing.”
His eyes stayed locked on mine.
“Who I’m with.”
My heart beat harder.
“If you need me, I’m coming.”
And there it was again.
That feeling.
Except this wasn’t butterflies.
This wasn’t me getting nervous because he stood too close.
This was something deeper.
Something that settled into my bones.
Safety.
I had spent years dating men who couldn’t return a fucking text.
And the man standing in front of me had heard fear enter my voice and moved before I even finished telling him what was wrong.
“You always do that,” I whispered.
His brows pulled together.
“Do what?”
“Show up.”
His expression changed.
Like he didn’t understand why that was something worth mentioning.
“That’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“For me?”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“Especially for you.”
Oh.
My heart did that stupid shit again.
Except this time—
I couldn’t blame it on his beard.
Or his locs.
Or him standing too close.
This was Maurice.
The part underneath Beast.
And somehow that scared me more.
He didn’t leave when he realized I was okay.
Of course he didn’t.
He checked my car.
Made sure I could drive it.
Then followed me all the way home.
When I pulled into my driveway, he pulled in behind me.
I got out.
“You don’t have to stay.”
“I know.”
I almost laughed.
There was that answer again.
He walked me to the door.
Waited while I unlocked it.
“Go check on Maylaisa.”
I looked at him.
“You’re bossy.”
“Danielle.”
“I’m going.”
I stepped inside.
Then turned.
“Maurice?”
“What?”
“Thank you.”
He looked at me for a second.
Then nodded toward the house.
“Lock the door.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Goodnight.”
“Lock it.”
I closed the door.
Locked it.
“You okay?” my sister Zariyah asked.
“I will be.” I told her putting on a fake smile.
“Okay well I’m staying in your guest room cause ROme and I got into an argument and now he doesn't want to come get me.” she said.
“That's fine.” I told her.
Then checked on Maylaisa.
She was asleep.
Safe.
Beautiful.
Completely unaware that for a few minutes tonight, her mother had been terrified she wouldn’t make it back to her.
I kissed her forehead.
“I love you, baby.”
Then went to my bedroom.
Twenty minutes later, I looked through the window.
Maurice’s vehicle was still outside.
I frowned.
I texted him.
Me: Why are you still outside my house?
His response came immediately.
Beast: Making sure they ain’t circle back.
Of course.
Me: I’m okay.
Beast: I know.
I smiled.
Me: You can go home.
Beast: In a minute.
That minute became an hour.
He sat outside my house for a whole fucking hour.
And somehow, instead of irritating me—
I slept better knowing he was there.
My phone buzzed again.
Beast: Door still locked?
I laughed.
Me: YES DADDY.
Three dots.
Beast: Keep playing.
I smiled.
Me: I really appreciate you.
This time his response took longer.
Beast: I always got you.
My smile softened.
Me: I know. Love you. Now go home.
Three dots.
Then—
Beast: Love you too.
Another message followed.
Beast: Check the door again.
I laughed.
Me: GOODNIGHT BEAST.
Beast: Night Danielle.
I put my phone down.
But sleep didn’t come immediately.
Because less than two hours ago, I’d been sitting across from Maurice wondering why the hell he’d been looking at me differently.
Then he’d stood too close.
Looked at my mouth.
Called because he wanted to hear my voice.
Told me to quit pretending I didn’t feel whatever the hell was happening between us.
And then—
when I needed him—
he came.
No hesitation.
No questions about whether I was overreacting.
No telling me he’d call somebody.
No let me know when you get home.
He came.
And maybe that shouldn’t have meant as much as it did.
But it did.
Because Beast had always made me feel protected.
Tonight was the first time I realized Maurice made me feel safe.
There was a difference.
A big fucking difference.
And lying there in the dark, I finally understood why the way he’d been looking at me all night had gotten underneath my skin.
It wasn’t because Beast was fine.
I’d known that for years.
It wasn’t because he knew my tells.
Or because he’d stood too close.
Or even because he’d looked at my mouth.
It was because somewhere between friendship and whatever the fuck tonight had been—
the safest man in my life had started looking at me like a woman he wanted.
And the scariest part?
I wasn’t sure I wanted him to stop.