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The Kissing Booth

Summary: Annie's sorority picks a kissing booth for their university Spring carnival. Smoke swears he's completely fine with it.... He is not.

A/N: Based off a prompt list by @sunshinerepublic. Just fluffy goodness. I've been wanting to write a D9 Annie x Smoke fic for so long...this is my first run. As you can tell by the colors and images...yes I made Annie an AKA, cause DUH. It's THE best sorority. 🤭 And Smoke kind of reminds me of an Alpha. This was written in a day and off the dome, so if it sucks....lie to me. 🙃

By the time Annie realized they had spent twenty-three minutes arguing about funnel cake, she was beginning to regret volunteering to chair the carnival committee herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her sorority sisters.

She did.

Mostly.

But the Phi Upsilon Chapter of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Incorporated had a way of turning even the smallest decision into something that required testimony, rebuttal, side commentary, and at least one person loudly insisting that everybody else was missing the point.

“This is exactly why we should’ve just done food,” Nia said from the second row, one hand lifted like she was addressing Congress instead of twenty-seven women packed into a classroom on the third floor of the student union. “Everybody buys food at a carnival.”

“Everybody sells food at a carnival,” Jasmine shot back.

“Not funnel cake.” “There are three funnel cake booths already.” “Three?”

Annie looked down at the sheet clipped to the front of her binder. “Four, actually.”

That earned a chorus of groans. She leaned one hip against the desk at the front of the room and adjusted the pink-and-green pen tucked between her fingers. The meeting had started ten minutes late because half the chapter had come in carrying iced coffees and apologies. They had already handled service-hour updates, next month’s scholarship luncheon, new-member mentoring assignments, and a reminder that nobody was to leave the storage closet looking like it had been hit by a tornado again. The spring carnival booth should have taken fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty. Instead, they were nearing forty, and Annie could feel the beginning of a headache forming right behind her left eye.

“Okay,” she said, lifting her voice just enough to cut through the overlapping conversation. “Can we please remember the actual problem?”

The room gradually quieted. Somewhat. Someone in the back was still whispering. Annie waited until the whispering stopped.

“Thank you.” She glanced at the paper again. “Student Activities is approving booths in the order they’re submitted, and we’re already behind. The Kappas turned theirs in yesterday.”

That immediately got somebody’s attention. “What they doin’?”

Annie’s mouth twitched. “Some kind of challenge booth.”

“What does that mean?” “It means Stack helped plan it.”

The room erupted.

“Chile…” “What he propose? A who-can-eat-it-better challenge?” “Danielle!”

Danielle lifted her hands sheepishly. “Just askin’.”

Annie laughed despite herself. “Basketball, dominoes, whatever else they can convince people to pay to compete in. They’re calling it Beat a Nupe.”

“Corny as fuck.” “Very.” “Still gonna make money.” “Unfortunately.”

Annie made a note beside their name. “The Alphas are doin’ a dunk tank.”

That got a different reaction. Heads came up. Brows lifted. A few smiles appeared that Annie did not trust at all.

“A dunk tank?” “Yes.” “With who sittin’ in it?” “I don’t know.” “Which Alphas?” “I said I don’t know.” “Is Smoke doin’ it?”

Annie looked up slowly.

The room broke apart before she even answered.

“Oh, she mad.” “She is answerin’ that.” “President Landry, this is relevant information.” “It’s not relevant information.” “It is to attendance.”

Annie pointed her pen at them. “Y’all ain’t about to turn my boyfriend into a marketing strategy.”

“Too late.” “Girl, if Smoke gets in that tank, the Alphas hittin’ their goal by noon.”“Exactly.”

Annie pressed her lips together. She hated that they might be right. Elijah had the unfortunate problem of attracting attention without ever seeming to notice it. Or maybe he noticed and simply didn’t care. Annie had never figured out which one was worse. He could walk across campus in gray sweats and an old fraternity hoodie and somehow have women finding reasons to look twice. He barely smiled at anybody. Rarely flirted. Usually looked like he would rather be left alone.

It didn't matter.

Apparently mystery was a public service.

“Anyway,” Annie said pointedly, dragging the conversation back before somebody suggested ticket presales for throwing balls at her man. “The Deltas are doing a sweet shop.”

“Of course they are.” “Red velvet?”

Annie checked the sheet. “Red velvet, strawberry shortcake cups, candy apples, lemonade.”

“Okay, so they came to win.”

“Exactly. Which is why we need to decide.” Annie continued. “Zetas haven’t submitted yet. Omegas are doing a step challenge. Student Government has the photo booth. The international student association has games. Nursing is doing blood-pressure checks, which is somehow very on brand and also deeply boring.”

“They doin’ blood pressures at a carnival?” “Apparently.” “Who gettin’ their blood pressure checked after eating fried Oreos?”“Somebody’s mama.”

That made Annie laugh again. She capped her pen and set it across the binder. “So. We need something that actually makes money, doesn’t require us buyin’ five hundred dollars’ worth of supplies, and isn’t already taken.”

Nia raised her hand.

“No funnel cake,” Annie deadpanned.

“No funnel cake.” “Bake sale?”

“No,” Jasmine stated flatly.

“We did that last year.” “And barely broke even.” “We broke even because Monique ate half the brownies.” “I was stressed!” “You was hungry!”

Laughter moved through the room.

Annie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Next.”

“Ring toss?” “Taken.” “Face painting?” “Fine, but who in here can paint?”

Several people looked at Jasmine.

Jasmine recoiled. “Why everybody lookin’ at me?”

“You did that mural.” “That was lettering. I cannot draw on nobody’s face.” “Car wash.” “No.” “Why?” “‘Cause I ain’t washin’ anybody’s car in April humidity.” “You live in Mississippi.” “That doesn’t mean I have accepted it.”

Another round of laughter.

Annie let them go for a few seconds before checking the clock again. They really did need to decide. She had promised the chapter advisor the form would be submitted tonight, and Annie hated missing deadlines almost as much as she hated people who responded to group emails with questions that had already been answered in the original email.

“All right,” she said. “Other options.”

A hand rose from the back.

Annie recognized the expression before the words even came. “No.” “You don’t even know what I’m gonna say.” “Yes, I do.”

Kiki smiled. “Kissing booth.”

The room exploded. Half the chapter started talking at once. Annie immediately shook her head. “Nope.”

“Why not?” “Because.” “Because why?” “Because no.” “That’s not very presidential.” “It is when I’m the president.” “You just abusin’ power now.”

Annie laughed and crossed her arms. “I ain’t havin’ y’all out there lettin’ random dudes kiss you.”

“They wouldn’t kiss us.”

Annie looked at Kiki.

Kiki shrugged. “We kiss them.”

“And that’s better?” “It kind of is.” “How?” “Control.”

A few women nodded solemnly like this was a serious business proposal. Annie stared at them. “You cannot be serious.”

Jasmine leaned forward. “Wait. She got a point.”

“No.” “Listen.” “I don’t want to listen.” “Annie.”

She sighed.

Jasmine sat straighter. “Not on the mouth.”

“Obviously.” “Cheeks only.” “Still.” “And we set levels.”

That slowed Annie down. “Levels?”

“Yeah. Like five dollars gets you a lipstick kiss on a paper heart.”

Nia snapped her fingers. “That’s cute.”

“Ten gets a kiss on the hand.” “Okay.” “Twenty gets cheek.”

The room went quiet for half a second. Then someone said, “Twenty-five.”

Another woman immediately shook her head. “Too high.”

“Men are stupid as hell.” “That don’t mean they have money.” “Twenty.” “Twenty is perfect.”

Annie opened her mouth. Nobody noticed. They were building the entire booth without her.

“We can decorate it pink and green.” “Of course.” “Little paper hearts everywhere.” “Disposable lipstick applicators.” “Sanitizer.” “Sanitizer is a must.”

“And rules,” Annie cut in. That finally brought several faces back to her. She hated that she was already participating in the planning.

Kiki smiled slowly. “Oh, so we considerin’ it now?”

“I didn’t say that.” “You asked about rules.” “Because if y’all are goin’ to keep talkin’ about it, somebody needs to inject common sense into the conversation.” “Same thing.”

“No, it ain’t.” Annie uncrossed her arms and picked up the pen again. “If this were even somethin’ we entertained, nobody gets to touch anybody. Period.”

“Agreed.” “No arms around waists.” “Yep.” “No grabbing faces.” “Obviously.” “No trying to turn your head at the last second.”

That earned immediate disgust.

“Ooh, yeah.” “Absolutely not.”

“They do that and they’re done.”

“Security.” “We don’t need security.” “We got Alphas.”

The room went suspiciously quiet. Annie looked up. Every face was innocent. Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t.”

Nobody said anything.

“That includes Smoke.”

That made them laugh.

“He ain’t security?” “He ain’t standin’ beside our booth intimidating customers.” “He wouldn’t have to say nothin’.” “Exactly.”

Annie tried not to smile. That was unfortunately true too. She wrote another note. “Every sister chooses whether she wants to participate. Nobody has to do cheek kisses if they’re not comfortable. Nobody has to work the booth at all if they’re not comfortable.”

Heads nodded.

“And nobody does anything beyond what’s on the sign because somebody offers more money.”

That earned a louder round of agreement.

“We fundraisin’. We not out here sellin’ ass.”

Nia covered her mouth. “Annie!”

“What?” “Sellin’ ass, really?” “I said what I said.”

They all were still laughing when Annie checked the clock again. “Okay. Enough. We’ve officially spent too much time on this.”

“But it would make money.” “I know.” “A lot of money.” “I know.” “People would come just because it’s us.” “That right there is why nobody likes us.” “You a damn lie. Everybody loves us.” “Pretty girls.”

A few women answered automatically. “Wear Twenty Pearls.”

“Period.”

The room broke into smiles. Annie shook her head. This was why meetings took forever. She looked down at the list they had built on the whiteboard. Bake sale. Ring toss. Face painting. Trivia wheel. Kissing booth. Not one option had unanimous support. And she could already feel another debate trying to start.

“Okay.” Nobody heard her. “Okay.” Still talking.

Annie picked up the wooden gavel their advisor had given her as a joke at the beginning of the semester and knocked it once against the desk. The crack snapped through the room. Every head turned.

She smiled sweetly. “Thank you.”

Someone muttered, “She been waiting all semester to use that.”

Annie ignored her. “We’re voting.”

Groans and cheers came at the same time.

“No more arguments. No more speeches. No more trying to convince people that funnel cake is somehow innovative.”

Nia sucked her teeth.

“Let it go.” “I’m tryin’.”

Annie began reading the options one by one, hands going up around the room as votes were counted. Bake sale disappeared quickly. Face painting did better than expected. Trivia almost won. Then Annie reached the final option. She looked at the room. Several women were already grinning.

Annie sighed. “Kissing booth.”

Hands shot into the air. Too many. Far too many. She counted once. Then again because she hoped she had somehow gotten it wrong. She hadn’t.

A cheer broke out. Annie closed her eyes. “Y’all get on my nerves.”

“We’re gonna make money!” “We better.” “Wait till the Kappas hear.” “Why the Kappas?” “You know why.” “They better bring cash.” “They will.”

Annie wrote the final tally beside the option and circled it. “Fine. Kissing booth wins.”

The cheering got louder.

She pointed the pen at them again. “With rules.”

“Yes, Madam President.” “With a schedule.” “Yes, Madam President.” “And if anybody act stupid, I am shutting the whole thing down.” “Yes, Madam President.”

Annie stared at them until the smiles widened. She already knew she was going to regret this. Not because of the booth. Not even because half the campus was going to enjoy this far more than necessary. No. The problem was that in approximately two hours she was going to have to tell Smoke. And while Annie loved her boyfriend deeply, completely, and with a level of patience that had been tested by everything from his habit of answering serious questions with one word to his conviction that folded laundry could remain in a basket indefinitely as long as it was technically clean, she knew one thing with absolute certainty.

Elijah “Smoke” Moore was going to say he was fine. He was going to mean it too.

At first.

He was at the kitchen table when she told him. Smoke’s apartment always felt quieter when Stack wasn’t home. Not actually quiet—the old refrigerator hummed, somebody upstairs dropped something heavy every fifteen minutes, and music from a passing car occasionally rattled the windows—but quieter in the way any room became quieter when Elias Moore wasn’t occupying it.

Annie sat cross-legged in one of the dining chairs with her laptop open in front of her, though she had stopped pretending to work almost ten minutes ago. Smoke was across from her. Economics textbook open. Notebook beside it. Black T-shirt. Gray sweats. One hand resting against his jaw while he read something on the page with the same concentration he brought to everything, as though the textbook had personally challenged him.

She had been waiting for a natural opening. None came. Smoke could sit in silence for an unreasonable amount of time and consider that companionship. She loved that about him. Usually. Tonight it was inconvenient. She tapped one fingernail against the edge of her laptop. He didn’t look up. She did it again. Still nothing.

“Smoke.” “What’s up.” “We picked our carnival booth.”

His eyes stayed on the page. “What y’all doin’?”

There it was. An opening. Annie drew a breath. “Kissing booth.”

His pen stopped. Just once. Barely noticeable. Then continued.

Annie watched him write something in the margin and waited.

Nothing.

“Elijah.” “What?” “You heard me?” “Yeah.” “And?”

He finally looked up. “And what?”

Annie stared at him. His expression was completely neutral.

Too neutral.

“We’re doin’ a kissing booth.” “I heard you.” “And you okay with that?”

One eyebrow lifted. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Annie leaned back. She had prepared for at least a look. A question. A pause longer than half a second. Something. Instead, Smoke lowered his eyes to the textbook again.

She narrowed hers. “You actin’ weird.”

“I’m readin’.” “No, before that.” “I was readin’ then too.” “Smoke.”

His mouth moved faintly at one corner. That almost-smile irritated her more than an argument would have.

“You think this is funny?” “A little.” “Why?” “’Cause you waitin’ on me to be mad.” “I’m not waitin’ on you to be mad.”

He looked at her. Annie held his gaze for three seconds. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

“Mhm.”

She closed the laptop halfway. “Well, I just wanted to tell you before the carnival. Because I didn’t want you showin’ up Saturday and seein’ it and thinkin’ I hid it from you.”

“You ain’t hide it.” “Nope.” “So we good.” “We good?” “Yeah.”

Annie studied him. He looked genuinely unbothered. That should have relieved her. Instead, it made her suspicious. “You want to know how it works?”

He shrugged. “If you wanna tell me.”

She ignored the casualness. “Five dollars is a lipstick kiss on a paper heart.”

Nothing.

“Ten is a kiss on the hand.”

Still nothing.

“Twenty is a kiss on the cheek.”

His eyes lifted. “Twenty?”

Annie smiled. “See!”

He frowned. “What?” “You do care.” “I asked how much.” “‘Cause you care.” “I asked ’cause twenty dollars for a kiss on the cheek is fuckin’ crazy.” “It’s for charity.” “Still crazy.” “Apparently your brothers think women are going to pay money to throw baseballs at y’all, so maybe don’t judge.” “That ain’t my booth.” “It’s literally the Alpha booth.” “I ain’t plan it.” “You participatin’.”

Smoke looked back down. “Maybe.”

Annie sat straighter. “Maybe?”

He had been deliberately vague about that all week.

“Elijah.” “What?” “Are you gettin’ in the dunk tank?” “Don’t know.” “Who knows?” “Chapter.” “You are chapter.”

He shrugged.

Annie stared. “You get on my nerves.”

“Mhm.”

She pushed her laptop aside and got out of the chair. Smoke glanced up as she walked around the table. She stopped beside him and leaned one hip against the edge.

“So let me understand this.”

He looked at her.

“You’re completely fine with me kissin’ other men.”

His expression changed. Not much. But enough to where Annie caught it instantly..

Smoke leaned back in the chair. “On the cheek.”

“Right.” “That’s what you said.” “Yes.” “So.” “So you fine.” “Yeah.”

Annie nodded slowly. Then smiled. “Wow.”

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Nothin’. I’m impressed.” “By what?” “How mature you are.”

He stared at her. “Don’t do that.” “Do what?” “Whatever that is.”

Annie laughed. “I’m serious.”

“No, you ain’t.” “I am. You are secure. Confident. Emotionally evolved.” “Bro.” “My man has grown up.”

He caught her wrist when she tried to step away. She laughed again as he pulled her between his knees.

“You play too much, bruh.” “I’m proud of you.” “You gon’ be proud somewhere else in a minute.” “No, I like it right here.”

His hands found her hips. Annie rested hers on his shoulders. She liked him like this. Relaxed. At home. No fraternity obligations. No classes. No work-study shift. No Stack barging into conversations with commentary nobody requested. Just Elijah. She bent and kissed his forehead. His hands tightened lightly against her sides.

“You really okay?” she asked, quieter now.

His eyes lifted to hers. “Yes, woman.”

She searched his face. “You would tell me if you weren’t?”

“Yeah.”

That answer came too easily. Annie gave him a look. “Elijah.”

He sighed. “I would.”

“Okay.”

She accepted it— Mostly. Then she smiled again. “Besides, it’s not like they kissin’ me.”

His brows drew together. “What?”

Annie slid her fingers along the back of his neck. “I’m kissin’ them.”

He went still. She felt it immediately. Not enough that anyone else would have noticed. But Annie knew him. She knew the smallest pauses. The barely there changes in his breathing. The way his eyes became more focused when something had landed differently than expected.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Elijah?”

He stared at her. “That’s different.”

Annie burst out laughing. “How?”

“I thought they was kissin’ your cheek.” “No.” “So you leanin’ over kissin’ niggas?” “They’re cheeks.” “Still.” “Oh my God.” “You made it sound different." “I told you it was a kissing booth!” “Yeah, but—” “But what?”

He stopped. Annie waited. His mouth pressed into a line.

She laughed harder. “Smoke.” “Ain’t shit funny.” “It’s a little funny.”

His hands slid away from her hips. “Go finish your work.”

“No.” “Annie.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You said you were emotionally evolved.”

“I ain’t say that. You said that.” “And now?” “Now you annoyin’ me.”

She kissed his cheek. Once. Soft. Quick. Exactly the kind of kiss they were talking about.

Smoke looked at her.

Annie smiled innocently. “That one was free.”

His eyes narrowed.

She kissed the other cheek. “Another freebie.”

“Keep playin’.” “Twenty dollars each on Saturday.”

He reached for her. Annie squealed and slipped away before he could catch her, circling the table while he looked at her like he was deciding whether standing up was worth it.

She grabbed her laptop. “Study, baby.”

“Yeah.” “I love you.” “Mhm.” “You love me too?”

He looked down at his book again. “Sometimes.”

Annie smiled all the way back to the couch. For the rest of the night, Smoke didn’t mention the kissing booth again. Not once. He finished reading. Closed his textbook. Helped her with a statistics problem she had been pretending not to struggle with. Ordered food. Argued with Stack over the phone about who had eaten the last of something in the refrigerator. And made love.

He walked Annie to her car close to midnight and stood beside the driver’s door while she dug through her purse for her keys. Everything was normal. When Annie rose onto her toes and kissed him goodnight, Smoke caught her at the waist and pulled her closer. The kiss lasted longer than she expected. Not enough to make her late getting home. Enough to make her smile against his mouth.

When they separated, she looked up at him. “What was that for?”

He opened her car door. “Nothin’.”

She laughed. “Goodnight, Smoke.”

“Text me when you get home.” “I always do.”

He waited until she pulled out of the lot before heading back upstairs. The apartment was empty when he walked in. Stack still wasn’t home. Smoke locked the door behind himself, went into his room, changed, turned off the light, and got into bed. For several minutes, he stared at the ceiling. There was nothing wrong with a kissing booth. It was a fundraiser. For charity. Annie had explained the rules. Nobody was touching her. Nobody was kissing her.

She was kissing— His eyes opened. He rolled onto his side. Closed them again. Random ass niggas sittin’ in front of her face. Smiling. Waiting. Annie leaning down. Those full pillow soft lips touching their faces— Smoke opened his eyes again. His mouth flattened.

Saturday suddenly felt very far away. And for the first time since Annie had told him about the carnival, a thought arrived with perfect, irritating clarity.

Fuck nah.

By 11:30 Saturday morning, Annie had already changed her mind about the kissing booth twice. The first time was while taping a strand of paper hearts across the front of the table and realizing that every single one had been cut slightly crooked. The second was when Kiki showed up carrying a plastic storage bin filled with lipsticks, glosses, disposable applicators, blotting sheets, hand sanitizer, mints, baby wipes, and what appeared to be enough pink tissue paper to wrap a small car.

Annie stared into the bin. “Why do we have this much stuff?”

Kiki set it on the folding table with a satisfied thump. “Because we are professionals.”

“At what?” “Fundraising.” “This looks like a backstage dressing room.” “Exactly.”

Annie shook her head and reached for the laminated price sign propped against one of the chairs. They had spent most of Thursday night making it. Actually, they had spent most of Thursday night arguing about fonts. Annie had wanted something simple. Nia had insisted simple was boring. Jasmine had somehow introduced rhinestones into the discussion. By the time they were done, the sign had a pink border, green lettering, lipstick marks in every corner, and enough glitter sealed beneath the laminate to catch sunlight from halfway across the quad.

At the top, in bold cursive letters, it read:

KISSES FOR A CAUSE

Underneath: $5 — Lipstick Kiss on a Paper Heart $10 — Kiss on the Hand $20 — Kiss on the Cheek

And beneath that, in smaller but extremely deliberate print: NO TOUCHING. NO TURNING YOUR HEAD. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Annie had added the last line herself. Jasmine had added a tiny heart beside it. Annie had removed the heart. Jasmine had put it back. Some battles were not worth fighting.

The carnival stretched across nearly the entire center of campus. White tents lined the walkways between the student union and the library. Bright banners snapped softly in the warm breeze, and music rolled from speakers near the main stage, mixing with bursts of laughter, fraternity chants, children shrieking from somewhere near the inflatable obstacle course, and the occasional amplified announcement from Student Activities reminding everybody that parking behind the science building was not, in fact, carnival parking. The air smelled like sugar, grease, sunscreen, and grass already warming beneath the noon sun.

Annie loved it. She always did. Spring carnival had been one of her favorite campus traditions since freshman year, partly because everybody seemed to emerge from whatever cave midterms had shoved them into and remember that college could actually be fun.

Professors brought their families. Students wore organization shirts and Greek letters. People wandered from booth to booth carrying lemonade, fried Oreos, funnel cake, snow cones, and paper plates stacked with things no one should reasonably eat before dinner.

The Divine Nine had taken over the east side of the quad. The Omegas were already yelling about something near their step challenge. The Deltas had a line for their sweet shop before they had even officially opened. The Kappas had taken up an obnoxious amount of space near the basketball court for Beat a Nupe, complete with a handmade scoreboard and a microphone that Annie already regretted them having access to.

She had heard Stack over it twice. The carnival hadn’t even started. The Alphas were directly across the quad from them. Which Annie had tried not to think too much about. Tried being the important word.

“Girl.”

Annie looked up. Nia was standing beside her with both hands on her hips.

“What?” “You have been starin’ over there for like thirty seconds.” “I have not.” “You have.” “I was checkin’ setup.” “Whose setup?”

Annie gave her a look.

Nia smiled. “Exactly.”

Annie turned back to the table. “I’m literally the president. I’m supposed to know what’s going on.”

“With the Alphas?” “With everybody.” “Mhm.”

Annie ignored her.

Across the quad, several Alpha brothers were dragging a long folding table into place beside the dunk tank. Their setup was simpler than theirs. Black-and-gold banner. Ticket bucket. Hand-painted sign.

DUNK AN ALPHA. Five dollars for three throws. Ten dollars for seven.

Annie could already hear women laughing around the booth. Of course. She leaned farther to the side. Smoke wasn’t in the tank. Good. Not that she cared. She was simply observing. As president. For organizational purposes.

“Still looking.” “Go put the paper hearts out.”

Nia laughed and did as she was told. Annie busied herself arranging the table. She had decided on a pale pink AKA T-shirt tucked into high-waisted denim shorts, white sneakers, gold hoops, and her hair pulled away from her face in a high curly ponytail. Most of the chapter had coordinated around some version of pink, green, denim, and white, which made the booth look even more put together than Annie had expected.

They had six sisters assigned to the first shift. Three would handle the actual kisses. One would take money. One would manage the paper hearts. One would stand nearby pretending not to be crowd control. Annie had assigned herself wherever she was needed. Because she was president. And because she did not trust half of them to remember to replenish sanitizer.

“Madam President!”

Annie turned. Jasmine was coming toward them carrying a large pink poster board over her head. “What is that?”

“Our goal.”

She lowered it: $2,500.

Annie stared. “Two thousand five hundred dollars?”

“Yes.” “We said fifteen hundred.” “That was before we saw how fine as fuck we look today.”

Annie closed her eyes. “Jaz.”

“What?” “You can’t create a fundraisin’ goal based on attractiveness.” “Why not?” “‘Cause that’s not a metric.” “It is today.”

Kiki leaned around Annie. “Twenty-five hundred is doable.”

“With what math?” “Twenty dollars a cheek.” “That’s not math.” “Girl math.”

Annie laughed despite herself. “Y’all exhaust me.” “Leadership is sacrifice.” “Apparently.”

A voice came through the Kappa microphone across the lawn.

“GOOD MORNING, GOOD PEOPLE—”

Annie groaned.

Stack.

His voice carried across half the quad. “Beat a Nupe is officially open for business! Think you can shoot? Think you can play dominoes? Think you can embarrass one of these handsome men in public?”

Several women screamed.

Stack paused. “See? They get it.”

Annie shook her head.

Nia cupped her hands around her mouth. “BOOOOO!”

Stack heard her. Somehow. His head turned. He spotted the AKA booth and lifted the microphone. “Hold on now. Was that hostility comin’ from the Pretty Girls from Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority? Can’t be.”

The booth erupted in boos.

Annie put both hands over her face. “No.”

“Oh, I know y’all not booin’ us when y’all out here selling pus—kisses!”

The girls around Annie screamed louder.

“STACK!”

He grinned from across the quad. “Respectfully.”

“Give me that microphone!”

Someone near him tried. Stack dodged. Annie was laughing harder now. This was exactly how the day was going to go. Loud. Messy. Fun. Probably exhausting. Then a shadow crossed the table.

“Y’all open yet?”

Annie looked up. A freshman boy stood there. She recognized him vaguely from one of the biology labs. He looked nervous. Too nervous. The carnival technically did not start for another seven minutes.

Annie glanced at the time. “Not yet.”

“Oh.”

His face fell.

One of the girls beside her whispered, “Damn.”

Annie elbowed her.

The boy looked at the sign again. Then at Annie. Then at the sign. “Can I come back?”

Kiki answered before Annie could. “Absolutely.”

He nodded too quickly and disappeared into the crowd. Annie watched him go. Then slowly turned toward her sisters.

“No.” “What?” “No.”

Kiki was already laughing. “That boy was sweet.”

“That boy looked like he was about to pass out.” “He probably was.” “This is goin’ to be a disaster.” “It’s goin’ to be profitable.”

Annie opened her mouth.

A hand touched the small of her back. She knew who it was before she turned. Smoke stood beside her. And just like that, every thought she had been having disappeared. He wore a black Alpha T-shirt with gold lettering across the chest, dark jeans, sneakers, and sunglasses on his head. Nothing special. Nothing he hadn’t worn a hundred times.

Still.

Annie hated men sometimes. Specifically this one. He looked good as hell without even trying, which felt disrespectful considering how much time she had spent deciding between two pairs of shorts that morning.

His hand stayed at her waist. “You good?”

Annie smiled. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

She leaned into him automatically. He bent and kissed her. Quick. Easy. Right on the mouth.

Nia made a dramatic choking sound behind them.

Annie pulled away and turned. “Do you need somethin’?”

“Nope.” “Then find somethin’ to do.”

Nia saluted. “Yes, Madam President.”

Smoke’s mouth twitched.

Annie looked back at him. “You’ve been here long?”

“Twenty minutes.” “And you didn’t come say hi?” “Was settin’ up.” “Mhm.”

His eyes moved over the booth. The decorations. The hearts. The sign. Then stopped.

Annie waited. His gaze stayed on the price list longer than necessary. She folded her arms. “You’ve seen this before.”

“Nah.” “Yes, you have. I told you everythin’ on it.” “Telling me ain’t seein’ it.”

He read the sign again. Then the rules. His expression relaxed by maybe half a degree.

Annie noticed. “You approve?”

He looked at her. “Of what?”

“The rules.” “I ain’t say nothin’.” “You don’t have to.”

Smoke glanced toward the crowd moving through the carnival. Then back at the booth. “How long you workin’?”

“First shift. Then I’m floatin’.” “How long is first shift?” “An hour and a half.”

His brows lifted.

“What?” “Nothin’.” “Why’d you make that face?” “What face?” “That one.” “I ain’t make a face.”

Annie smiled. There was something deeply satisfying about knowing a person well enough to catch lies nobody else would even recognize as lies.

“You look cute when you pretend not to care.”

His hand dropped from her waist. “Here you go.”

She laughed and caught his wrist before he could step away. “Where are you goin’?”

“Back to my booth.” “Are you gettin’ dunked?” “No.”

The answer came too fast. Annie’s smile widened. “Elijah.”

“No.” “Why not?” “Don’t feel like it.” “You told me maybe.” “Changed my mind.”

She looked over his shoulder. Several of his fraternity brothers were standing near the tank. One of them caught Annie’s eye. Smiled. Then pointed directly at Elijah. After that, he pointed at the dunk tank.

Annie looked back at her boyfriend. “Oh.”

Smoke’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“You’re scheduled.” “No, I ain’t.” “Yes, you are.” “No.”

Behind him, one of the Alphas called out, “Smoke! One o’clock!”

Smoke closed his eyes.

Annie burst out laughing. “ONE O’CLOCK!”

“I heard you.” “You said you weren’t doin’ it.” “I’m not.”

His brother yelled again. “President said everybody takin’ a turn!”

Smoke slowly turned his head. “Mufucka, shut up.”

Annie laughed harder. “Oh, this is wonderful.”

“Ain’t shit funny.” “It is.”

His gaze dropped to her. “You got jokes now.” “I always have jokes.” “Mhm.”

She reached up and straightened the front of his shirt. “So one o’clock?”

“No.” “One.” “No.”

She smiled sweetly. “I’ll come watch.”

“That supposed to help?” “Absolutely not.”

Before he could answer, somebody called Annie’s name from behind the booth. She turned.

Jasmine was holding up the cash box. “We need you!”

Annie sighed. “Duty calls.”

Smoke looked past her toward the growing crowd. Then back down at her. “Text me if you need somethin’.”

“I will.”

He started to step away. Annie caught the front of his shirt. He looked down. She kissed him again. Longer this time. Not inappropriate. Just enough to make one of her sisters whistle behind them. Smoke’s hand came back to her waist.

When Annie pulled away, she smiled. “That should hold you.”

His eyes stayed on her mouth for a second. “From what?”

“Being emotionally unevolved.”

He stared.

She grinned. “Bye, baby.”

Smoke shook his head and walked away. Annie watched him cross the quad. His shoulders loose. Hands in his pockets. Completely calm. Totally fine. At least from the back. She smiled to herself and returned to the booth.

The carnival officially opened three minutes later. For the first ten minutes, things went smoothly. A few women bought paper kisses. Two little girls came by with their mother and paid five dollars each to get pink lipstick hearts for their scrapbooks. A professor donated twenty dollars and refused a kiss altogether.

Then a group of Kappas showed up. Of course they did. They came in a pack. Stack at the front. Sunglasses on. Kappa shirt. Confidence entirely undeserved.

Annie saw them coming and immediately pointed across the quad. “No.”

Stack looked offended. “We ain’t even done nothin’.”

“You about to.” “That’s profiling.” “That’s experience.”

He stopped in front of the sign and read it. Then nodded slowly. “Twenty dollars.”

Annie stared at him. “For what?”

“Cheek.” “No.”

His mouth fell open. “You can’t deny a donor.”

“I can.” “Your sign does not say that.” “It does now.”

Stack looked around. “Witnesses?”

Every sorority sister nearby was trying not to laugh.

He pressed a hand to his chest. “I came here to support my sisters.”

“You got the Deltas, Zetas, and the Sigmas over there, go support them.” “This is crazy.” “You have your own booth.” “My own booth don’t offer kisses.” “Sounds like a personal problem.”

Stack leaned closer. “What if I request somebody else?”

Annie waved toward Kiki. “Please do.”

Kiki recoiled. “Why me?”

“You wanted this booth. And…” Annie began in a teasing manner, “you should be very familiar with those cheeks.”

Kiki gasped.

Stack smiled wide. “I got twenty.”

Kiki narrowed her eyes. “You get cheek only.” “That’s what I paid for.” “Hands to yourself.” “I’m a gentleman.”

Every woman at the table laughed. Kiki kissed his cheek. Quick.

Stack touched the spot. “Worth every penny.”

Annie rolled her eyes.Then noticed Smoke across the quad. Watching. He stood near the Alpha booth talking to one of his fraternity brothers, body angled toward them, sunglasses on. But his head was turned. Just enough. Annie looked at him. He looked away. Her mouth twitched.

Interesting.

A few more customers came through. Mostly for paper hearts. A handful of hand kisses. Then the first man paid twenty dollars for Annie. She didn’t think anything of it. At least not at first. He was tall, probably a junior. She recognized him from around campus but couldn’t place his name.

He smiled. “You Annie?”

She blinked. “Yes.”

“Twenty.” He held out the bill.

Jasmine took it before Annie could.

“Cheek kiss?” “Yeah.”

Annie smiled politely. “All right.”

The guy leaned slightly toward her. Annie stepped closer, he turned his face, and she pressed a brief kiss to his cheek. Barely a second.

She stepped back. “Thank you for donating.”

He grinned. “Anytime.”

Annie laughed politely. He walked away. She reached for sanitizer. And then she felt it. A stare. Not from the customer. From across the quad. She looked up. Smoke was no longer pretending to be engaged in conversation. He was looking directly at her. Sunglasses pushed up again. Expression unreadable.

Annie froze for half a second. Then smiled. He didn’t smile back.

Oh. Oh, no.

Jasmine leaned beside her. “Why Smoke lookin’ over here like somebody stole somethin’?”

Annie bit the inside of her cheek. “He’s fine.”

“Is he?” “Yes.”

Across the quad, Smoke was still staring. Jasmine followed Annie’s gaze. Then slowly looked back at her. “Annie.”

“He said he was fine.” “Girl.” “He did.”

Jasmine’s eyes widened with delight. “Oh, this is about to be good.”

Annie tried not to laugh, because she loved Smoke. She did. And she would never intentionally make him uncomfortable. But there was something deeply, deeply funny about the fact that three nights ago he had sat across from her at his kitchen table acting like she was ridiculous for even asking whether this would bother him. Now one man had gotten a kiss on the cheek. ONE. And Smoke looked like he had just discovered an entirely new category of bullshit.

Annie picked up the hand sanitizer. “Don’t start.”

“I ain’t said nothin’.” “You thinkin’ loudly.”

Jasmine laughed. Another customer stepped forward. Twenty-dollar bill already in hand. Annie looked at him. Then, despite herself, looked across the quad. Smoke was still there. Watching. Her lips twitched.

Oh, this was absolutely going to be a problem.

The second customer was worse. Not because he did anything wrong. That was the irritating part. He walked up, paid his twenty dollars, read the sign, kept his hands to himself, and even asked Annie if she was comfortable before leaning in. Perfectly respectful. Smoke disliked him immediately.

He stood across the quad beside the Alpha booth with his arms folded, pretending to listen while one of his fraternity brothers argued about whether the dunk tank tickets should be sold in bundles. He had no idea what the answer was. Didn’t care. His attention was somewhere else. Again. Annie leaned in. Quick kiss. Cheek. Done. The guy smiled. Too much. Smoke’s eyes narrowed.

“Smoke.”

Nothing.

“Smoke.”

Still nothing.

A hand snapped in front of his face. He looked over. Brandon stared at him. “You hear anythin’ I just said?”

“Yeah.” “What I say?”

Elijah looked at him.

Brandon laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

Smoke ignored him and looked back toward the AKA booth. The guy was gone. Good. Another one was walking up. Bad. He exhaled through his nose. He had known what a kissing booth was. He understood the concept. He had sat right there at his kitchen table while Annie explained the whole thing to him in unnecessary detail.

Five dollars—Paper. Ten—Hand. Twenty—Cheek. Easy. Harmless. He had agreed. Because what kind of man got worked up over somebody getting a peck on the cheek at a charity fundraiser?

Apparently him. The third guy was wearing a basketball jersey. Smoke already hated that. Couldn’t have said why. Just did. Jersey walked up smiling. Annie smiled back. Not flirting. Smoke knew the difference. He knew Annie. She was friendly. Warm. The kind of person who made strangers feel like they had known her longer than five minutes. It was one of the things he loved about her. Today, however, he was finding it deeply inconvenient. Jersey handed over twenty dollars. Annie leaned in. Smoke looked away. He lasted maybe two seconds, then looked back. She was already stepping away. Fine—Whatever. He could do this.

“Nigga.”

Smoke closed his eyes.

Stack.

He didn’t bother turning around. “I know you heard me.”

“What, nigga.”

Stack came up beside him carrying a paper tray loaded with fries and enough ketchup to qualify as soup. He followed Smoke’s line of sight. Then looked at him. Then looked back across the quad.

His face slowly changed. “Ah.”

Smoke said nothing.

Stack smiled. “No.”

“Don’t.” “I ain’t even said nothin’ yet.” “Then keep it that way.”

Stack ate a fry. They stood there together. Another guy approached the kissing booth. Stack chewed. Watched. Looked at Smoke. Smoke’s mouth flattened.

Stack swallowed. “You sick.”

“Shut the fuck up.” “I knew it.” “Knew what?” “You was gonna get over here and start actin’ crazy.” “I’m standin’ here.” “Exactly.”

Smoke turned toward him. “What that mean?” “It mean you ain’t moved in twenty minutes.” “I’m helpin’.” “With what?”

Smoke looked around. The Alpha booth was fully staffed. Nobody needed him. Brandon had apparently solved the ticket crisis without his input. The dunk tank was already open. Two brothers were laughing beside it. One was wet. Everything was fine.

Stack nodded. “Right.”

Smoke looked away. “Go back to your booth.”

“I’m on break.” “You need a shorter one.”

Stack laughed. Across the quad, another twenty-dollar customer stepped forward. Smoke watched Annie glance up. Not at the guy. At him. Their eyes met and then she smiled. Not the polite booth smile. A different one. Small. Knowing. Smoke stared. She knew. Annie knew his moods before he had finished deciding whether he had one.

The guy leaned toward her. Smoke’s attention went right back to him. Quick kiss. Done. Stack made a noise beside him.

Smoke didn’t look. “What.”

“You countin’?” “No.” “That was four.”

Smoke turned slowly.

Stack grinned. “I wasn’t countin’ before, but now I am.”

“I’m about to knock that plate out yo’ mufuckin’ hand.” “You jealous.” “No.” “Smoke.” “No.” “Yo’ whole forehead mad.”

Smoke rubbed a hand over his face. “I ain’t jealous.”

Stack ate another fry. “Bruh.”

“It’s weird.” “What’s weird?” “That.”

Stack looked toward the booth. “Charity?”

“Her kissin’ random ass niggas.” “On the cheek.” “I know where.” “Then whatchu mad for?” “I ain’t mad.”

Stack looked at him for a long moment. Then started laughing. Hard. Smoke’s eyes narrowed. “What’s funny?”

“You sound just like Annie said you was gon’ sound.”

His head turned. “What she say?”

Stack stopped laughing. Too late.

“What she say?” “Nothin’.” “You just said—” “I’m just fuckin’ wit you, bro.”

Smoke took one step toward him. Stack backed up. “See, now you focused on the wrong thing.”

“What Annie say?” “She ain’t say nothin’ bad.” “What she say.”

Stack sighed. “Said you was actin’ all cool about it.”

Smoke stared. “And?”

“And she knew you wasn’t.” “I was.” “Was?”

Smoke said nothing.

Stack nodded slowly. “Right.”

Across the quad, the line got longer. Smoke noticed that too. It had been maybe eight people earlier. Now it was closer to fifteen. Mostly men. His entire expression changed.

Stack followed his gaze. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” “That line gettin’ serious.” “I can see.” “Your girl popular.”

Smoke looked at him.

Stack raised both hands. “Compliment.”

“You enjoyin’ this shit too much.” “Absolutely.”

Smoke looked back at the booth. Another guy stepped up—this one sprayed cologne. Actually sprayed it. Right there, from a little travel bottle. Smoke’s head tilted.

Stack saw it at the same time. “Ah, hell nah.”

Smoke pointed. “You saw that shit?”

Stack started laughing again. “Nigga just sprayed himself, bruh.”

“For a cheek kiss.” “Maybe he wanted to smell nice.” “For who?”

Stack lost it. Smoke stared at the guy. Cologne Man ran a hand over his shirt. Smoothed his beard, then approached the table like he was going on a date.

Smoke’s mouth opened slightly. “Mane, what the fuck.”

Stack bent forward, laughing into his fries. “You cannot be serious.”

“He freshenin’ up.” “So?” “So why?” “Maybe Annie got standards.”

Smoke looked at him.

Stack immediately straightened. “Bad joke, my bad bruh.”

Annie spotted Cologne Man, then she spotted Smoke. Then, to his complete annoyance, her shoulders started shaking. She was laughing. At him.

Smoke pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Yeah.”

Stack followed his gaze. “Oh, she got you.”

“Go away.” “She know you mad.” “I’m not mad.” “Jealous.” “No.” “Possessive?”

Smoke looked at him.

Stack thought about it. “Concerned citizen?”

“Elias.” “Aight.”

Cologne Man paid. Annie took the kiss. Quick. Polite. He walked away smiling. Smoke watched him go.

Stack did too. Then Stack looked back at Elijah. “That one hurt.”

“I hate you, bruh.” “I love you too, bro.”

Smoke unfolded his arms. He could leave. That was the smart thing. Go work his own booth. Walk around. Get food. Do literally anything besides stand across the quad watching men hand over twenty dollars for access to his girlfriend’s lips. He took one step. Then another customer approached. Smoke stopped.

Stack looked at him. “Bro.”

“What.” “You ain’t goin’ nowhere.” “Shut up, nigga.”

He stayed watching for another ten minutes. By then, Stack had started keeping an actual tally on a napkin. Smoke noticed on number seven.

“What is that?” “Data.” “Give me that.”

Stack pulled it away. “Scientific observation.”

“You got seven marks on there.” “Eight now.”

Smoke looked across the quad. Sure enough, another cheek kiss. He exhaled.

Stack made the eighth mark. “Current estimate, your girl has raised one-sixty on cheeks alone.”

“I know math.” “Clearly not, because you standin’ here watchin’ instead of investin’.”

Smoke looked at him. “What?”

Stack shrugged. “You got money.”

Smoke stared. Then looked toward the booth. Then back. “Nah.”

Stack smiled. “Didn’t say nothin’.”

“You said invest.” “Charity.” “I’m not payin’ my own girlfriend to kiss me.” “Why not?” “‘Cause she’s my girlfriend.” “Exactly. Discount.”

Smoke shook his head. “That’s stupid.”

“Less stupid than standin’ here mean muggin’ her and them niggas.” “I’m not mean muggin’.” “Riiiight.”

Stack ate another fry. Smoke ignored him for about three minutes. Then another man walked up. Twenty. Cheek. Smile. Smoke’s hand went into his pocket.

Stack froze. Slowly. Very slowly. A grin spread across his face.

Smoke looked at him. “Don’t.”

“I ain’t sayin’ shit.” “You look like you about to.” “Nope.”

Smoke pulled out his wallet. Stack turned away. His shoulders were shaking. “Elias.”

“I’m mindin’ my business.” “You laughin’.” “Quietly.”

Smoke took out a twenty.

Stack made a strangled sound. “Man.”

Smoke pointed at him. “One word.”

Stack bit his lips together. Smoke started across the quad. The closer he got, the more ridiculous the idea felt. He could just walk up to Annie, kiss her and leave. No money required, but that wasn’t the point. Actually, he wasn’t sure what the point was. He only knew that he was tired of watching everybody else step up to that table. And it was for charity. That part mattered. Probably. The line stretched farther than he had realized. Smoke stopped at the back.

A guy in front of him glanced over his shoulder. Then did a double take. Smoke ignored him. The guy looked at the booth. Then at Smoke. Then back again. “You in line?”

Smoke looked at him. “What it look like?”

The guy nodded. “Aight.”

He faced forward. Two seconds passed, then he turned again. “Ain’t that yo’ girl?”

Smoke stared. “Yeah.”

The guy frowned. “So why you—”

“It’s for charity.”

“Oh.” He turned around.

Smoke could practically feel Stack laughing from across the lawn. The line moved. Slowly. Too slowly. By the time Smoke reached the front, Annie had already seen him. Of course she had. Her eyes found him somewhere around fourth place. They widened. Then narrowed. Then lit with so much amusement that Smoke immediately regretted coming over. Not enough to leave. But enough.

Jasmine saw him next. Her mouth dropped open. “No.”

Annie looked at her. “Don’t.”

“Is he—” “Jaz.” “He is!”

Every woman at the table started looking. Smoke kept his expression neutral. The guy ahead of him paid for a paper heart. Five dollars. Smart man. He moved aside. Smoke stepped forward.

Annie folded her arms. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

Her eyes dropped to the twenty in his hand. Then back up. “What are you doing?”

“Donatin’.”

Behind her, somebody choked on a laugh. Annie’s lips twitched. “You know you can just donate without getting anything.”

“I know.” “Okay.”

Smoke put the twenty on the table. “Cheek.”

That did it. The entire booth erupted. Annie closed her eyes. “Y’all are so embarrassin’.”

Jasmine grabbed the money. “No refunds!”

Smoke looked at her. “Ain’t ask for one.”

Annie stared at him. He stared back. She tried to keep a straight face. Failed.

“You really are somethin’.” “It’s twenty dollars.” “To kiss me.” “For charity.” “I kiss you for free.” “I know.” “Every day.” “I know.” “On the mouth.”

His eyes dropped briefly to her lips. Then he licked his own. “I know.”

Annie’s stomach flipped. Then she stepped closer. Smoke leaned down slightly. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Exactly like all the others. Except it didn’t feel like all the others. Maybe because her hand brushed lightly against his wrist. Maybe because she smiled against his skin. Maybe because she murmured, “Thank you for your donation, sir,” just loud enough for him to hear.

Smoke looked at her when she stepped back. Her eyes were sparkling. He shook his head. “Funny.”

“Very.”

He turned to leave.

Jasmine called after him. “Come again!”

Annie whipped around. “Jasmine!”

“What? We need money!”

Smoke walked away. Stack was waiting halfway across the quad. Smiling. Smoke stopped in front of him. “Say it.”

Stack shook his head. “No, I respect it.”

“Say what you wanna say.” “I respect a man who supports the cause.”

Smoke stared. Stack broke, bent over, and started laughing so hard he nearly dropped his fries. Smoke walked past him.

“One-twenty left in your wallet!” Stack called.

Smoke stopped and turned. “What?”

Stack held up the napkin. “You had seven twenties when we got here.”

“How the fuck you know that?” “I pay attention.” “Stop countin’ my money, mufucka.” “Just sayin’.”

Smoke walked away. He lasted six minutes. The next guy paid twenty. He tried to ignore it. Couldn’t. His hand went back into his pocket.

Stack looked up from his food. “No.”

Smoke said nothing.

“No fuckin’ way.”

Smoke pulled out another twenty.

Stack started laughing before he even moved. “You just went!”

Smoke headed back across the quad.

“Smoke!”

He kept walking.

“You was literally just there!”

Smoke got back in line. Same spot. Same expression. Different twenty. This time Annie saw him almost immediately. She stared. He stared back. Then she covered her mouth.

One of her sorority sisters leaned over. “What?”

Annie pointed subtly. Her sister looked, then doubled over laughing. Smoke waited. He could handle it. Probably. The guy ahead of him turned around. Same guy from before. He looked at Smoke. Then at the booth. Then at Elijah again.

“Bro.”

Smoke already knew. “Don’t.”

“You just—” “I know.” “Ain’t that—” “Yeah.”

The man nodded slowly. Then smiled. “Respect.”

Smoke looked away. By the time he reached the front, Annie had tears in her eyes. Actual tears.

“Elijah.”

He placed the twenty down. “Cheek.”

She laughed. “You were just here.”

“I got twenty more dollars.” “That ain’t how this works.”

Jasmine immediately leaned in. “That is exactly how this works.”

“Stay out of it.” “Fundraisin’ goal.”

Annie looked back at him. “You can’t keep payin’ me.”

“Why not?” “Because.” “That ain’t a reason.” “You my boyfriend.” “Still got money.” “That makes it worse.” “How?” Annie looked around at her sisters. No help. Every single one of them wanted his cash. Traitors. She turned back to him. “You know what? Fine.” Smoke raised his brows. Annie stepped forward and kissed his cheek. Quick. Then she pointed away from the booth. “Go.” He looked at her. “Go where?” “Anywhere but here.” “Thought this was open to everybody.” “Not to you.” The women behind her booed. Smoke’s mouth twitched. Annie caught it. “There.” “What?” “You think this is funny.” “Nah.” “Yes, you do.” He stepped back. “See you in a minute.” Annie’s eyes widened. “No.” Elijah walked away. “ELIJAH!” He didn’t turn. Across the quad, Stack was already marking something on the napkin. Annie put both hands over her face. Jasmine leaned against her shoulder. “I love your relationship.” “I hate all of you.” “Forty dollars." “I know.” “From one man.” “I know.” “Your man.” “Jasmine.” “Two thousand four-sixty to go.” Annie lowered her hands. “We already had money before him.” “Still.” Across the quad, Smoke was back beside Stack. Pretending nothing had happened. Annie watched him. Then watched Stack say something. Smoke shoved him lightly. Stack nearly fell over laughing. A fresh customer stepped forward. Annie turned back. Twenty-dollar bill “Cheek?” she asked. “Yeah.” She smiled. “Okay.” The kiss lasted less than a second. When Annie looked across the quad again, Elijah’s hand was already in his pocket. She pointed at him from fifty feet away. “No!” He stopped. Stack looked between them. Annie shook her head hard. Smoke slowly pulled his empty hand back out. The whole booth started laughing. Even he smiled this time. Barely, but enough. Annie laughed too. Then the line moved again. And for the next twenty minutes, Smoke somehow managed to stay away. Mostly. Then the Alpha president clapped Smoke on the shoulder. “Your turn. Smoke looked over. “What?” “One o’clock.” His face changed. Across the quad, Annie saw it. She checked the time. 12:58. Her smile spread. Oh. She had almost forgotten. The dunk tank. Jasmine followed her gaze. “What?” Annie slowly set the sanitizer down. “My man has an appointment “Where?” She pointed. The Alpha brothers were already steering Smoke toward the tank. He was protesting. Not loudly. Smoke did very little loudly. But his body language was clear. No. Absolutely not. One of his brothers grabbed the hem of his shirt. Smoke slapped his hand away. Annie laughed, then grabbed her purse. Nia looked at her. “Where you going?” “Taking a break.” “For what?” Annie pulled out a five-dollar bill. Across the quad, Smoke looked up. Their eyes met. He saw the money. Then saw her smile. His expression went completely flat.Annie nearly skipped across the grass, because jealous Smoke had been entertaining. But wet Elijah Moore sitting over a dunk tank while half the women on campus lined up to throw balls at him? That might be even better.

By the time Annie reached the Alpha booth, Smoke was sitting above the dunk tank looking like a man serving a sentence. His shoes were gone, so were his socks. And, apparently, his shirt.Annie slowed.

Oh. She hadn’t known about that part. Smoke sat on the narrow platform in nothing but black athletic shorts that hit just above his knees, forearms braced against his thighs, broad shoulders bare beneath the afternoon sun. The Alpha shirt he had been wearing all morning was nowhere in sight, likely surrendered somewhere between his brothers steering him toward the tank and whichever one had finally convinced him that climbing into several feet of water fully dressed was stupid. Annie stopped several feet away. Well. This had been a terrible idea. Not putting Smoke in the dunk tank. That was an excellent idea. Coming over here to watch it? That was where she had made her mistake. Because the booth had a line. A long one. Annie looked at it. Then looked at Smoke. Then back at the line. Women. A few men from other frats who were clearly there for the pleasure of knocking an Alpha into a tank of water, but mostly women. Annie’s smile faded. Beside the tank, Brandon was taking money. “Five dollars, three throws! Ten dollars, seven! Step right up!” A girl Annie recognized from one of her sociology classes handed him ten. Annie folded her arms. The girl stepped toward the throwing line. Smoke sat above the tank staring straight ahead, looking profoundly uninterested in the fact that he was half naked in front of what appeared to be an increasingly enthusiastic section of the female student body. “Smoke!" He looked over. The girl smiled. Smoke gave her a polite nod. Annie’s eyes narrowed. Oh, now he knew how to acknowledge people. Interesting... The first throw missed. Badly. The girl laughed. “So close!” It had not been close. The second missed too. By the fourth, Annie started wondering if the girl was intentionally throwing badly to stay there longer. That was ridiculous. Probably… Maybe. The fifth ball hit the edge of the target. Smoke looked bored. The sixth missed, but the seventh—Bullseye. The seat dropped. Smoke disappeared. The splash sent water over the side of the tank. The entire line screamed. Annie laughed before she could stop herself. He surfaced. Water streamed down his face and shoulders as he pushed both hands over his head, wiping it from his eyes before swimming toward the platform. Annie stopped laughing. Oh, hell no. Apparently a dry, shirtless Elijah had been one problem. A soaking-wet, shirtless Elijah was another entirely. Water gleamed across his shoulders and ran in thin trails down his chest as he hauled himself back onto the platform. He wiped a hand over his face, completely oblivious—or pretending to be—to the sudden increase in noise from the women waiting in line. Annie heard somebody behind her say, “Damn.” Her lips pressed together. Yes. She was aware. Smoke looked toward the line. Then toward Annie. Their eyes met. He saw her face. His mouth twitched. Annie immediately frowned. Don’t. His smile grew. Not much, but enough. She knew exactly what he was thinking. He had caught her. Annie lifted the five-dollar bill in her hand. His smile disappeared. Better. She got in line. A white girl ahead of her turned around. “Oh my God, he is sooo hot.” Annie blinked. The girl smiled and continued. “I've been waiting all morning for his turn.” Have you? Annie smiled. “That right?” “Yes! Girl, look at him.” Annie looked. Unfortunately. Smoke dragged both hands over his wet face, then swept one across his chest, brushing away the water still trailing down his skin. Her lips parted. Well. That was unnecessary. He glanced toward her. Annie looked away. Miss Been-Waiting-All-Morning sighed. “I don’t even care if I hit the target.” Annie looked back. “What?” “I mean, I want to hit it. But I just wanted to see him wet.” Annie stared. Miss Thirsty laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” Unfortunately. “Do you think he has a girlfriend?”

Annie’s eyebrows rose. Oh. So we goin’ there? She looked Miss Do-He-Got-a-Girlfriend up and down, every polite answer disappearing from her mind as something considerably less charitable rose to take its place. “Actually—”

“Next!” Brandon shouted.

Miss Wanna-See-Him-Wet brightened. “That’s me!” She hurried toward the throwing line. Annie stood there with her mouth still slightly open. Oh, no. Bitch, come back here. Because now she had something to say.

Her gaze followed Miss Five-Dollars-and-a-Dream toward the tank before sliding to Elijah. He was already looking at her. Annie narrowed her eyes. His brows lifted. She stared.

Your little fan club, that’s what. Something in her face must have translated because the corner of his mouth started to rise. Annie pointed at him. Don’t. His smile grew anyway. Fine. Let him enjoy himself. Miss Front-of-the-Line had three throws coming—first throw missed. Annie watched her. Then looked at Smoke. He was still looking at her. She mouthed one word. Girlfriend? He frowned. Annie pointed to herself. His eyes narrowed like he had no idea what she was talking about. She shook her head. Men. Miss He-So-Hot threw again. Missed. Annie stood there with her arms folded. Miss I-Been-Waiting-Since-Breakfast tried one more. Missed again. Not even close. Annie’s mouth twitched. Miss All-That-Thirst-and-No-Aim laughed it off and stepped away from the throwing line. Annie watched her go. Mm-hmm. All that carrying on about seeing somebody else’s man wet and couldn’t hit a damn target to save her sunburnt life! Tragic. “Next!” Brandon looked up and noticed Annie. His entire face lit up. “Oh, shit. Smoke followed his gaze. Annie smiled sweetly. Brandon laughed. “Smoke, you in trouble.”

Smoke looked at Annie.

She held up her five. “Just supportin’ my brothers.”

Brandon nearly dropped the cash box. Smoke stared. Annie stepped forward when it was her turn.

Brandon took her money. “Three throws.” “I only need one.” The people around them reacted immediately. “OHHHH!” Smoke leaned back on the seat. “You talkin’ big.” Annie picked up the ball. “You scared?” “Nah.” “You should be.” “Throw it then.” She smiled. He knew that smile. She could tell by the way his expression changed. Annie drew her arm back. Threw. The ball smacked the center of the target. Smoke dropped. Splash. The Alpha booth erupted. Annie threw both hands in the air. “Yes!” Brandon doubled over. “FIRST THROW!” Smoke came up wiping water from his face. Annie walked closer to the tank. “Five dollars well spent.” He looked at her. “You practiced.” “What?” “You practiced.” “Why you hatin’?” He hauled himself back onto the platform, water streaming from his shoulders and down his chest. He pushed a hand over his face, then shook the excess from his head. Annie tried not to look. Failed. Her gaze dipped before she could stop it, following a bead of water as it slipped down the center of his chest and disappeared at the waistband of his shorts. When she looked up again, Smoke was watching her. His brows lifted. Annie immediately frowned. “What?” His mouth curved. “Ain’t say nothin’.”

“You were about to.”

“Nah.”

“Yes, you were.”He leaned forward slightly. “You good?” Her eyes narrowed. “Fine.” “Mhm.” That smug little sound irritated her more than an actual comment would have. She pointed the remaining two balls at him. “Keep playing with me and I’ll use both of these.” Smoke leaned back onto the seat, entirely too pleased with himself now. “Thought you only needed one?” Annie stared at him. Oh, she hated him. Brandon called the next person forward before she could come up with a response that wouldn’t embarrass both of them in public. Annie started to walk away. “Smoke!” He looked at her. She pointed at him. “Put a towel on.” The Alpha brothers lost their minds. Smoke laughed. Actually laughed. Head dropping for a second before he looked back at her. Annie walked away before he could say anything. She heard Brandon behind her. “Not a towel!" The Alpha brothers lost their minds. Smoke laughed. Actually laughed. Head dropping for a second before he looked back at her. Annie walked away before he could say anything. She heard Brandon behind her. “Not a towel!” Another voice joined in. “President Landry said cover up!” “Shut up, nigga!”

She was still smiling when she reached her booth.

Jasmine saw her coming. “Well?”

Annie picked up the sanitizer. “Well what?”

“Did you dunk him?” “First throw.”

Her sisters cheered. Annie accepted the praise she deserved.

Then Nia leaned closer. “Why you look mad then?”

“I don’t.” “You do.” Jasmine looked across the quad. “Oh.”

Annie followed her gaze. Another woman was stepping up to throw. “Stop.”

Jasmine started laughing. “Look at you.”

“I said stop.” “All mornin’ you been laughin’ at that man.” “And?” “And now you over here lookin’ like you wanna fight a line.” “I don’t.” “Ok.”

Annie reached for the cash box. “Where are we?”

Jasmine was still smiling when she checked. “Little over sixteen hundred.”

Annie blinked. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

That pulled her attention back immediately. They had been open less than two hours. “Paper hearts are doing way better than I thought.”

“Told you.” “And cheeks?” “Better.”

Annie looked at the line. Still long. She sighed. “Okay. Let’s keep it moving.” For the next forty minutes, they did.“I do not.”

The carnival grew more crowded as the afternoon wore on. Music got louder. Lines stretched farther. The smell of funnel cake seemed to cover the entire campus. Annie rotated out twice to handle chapter business, helped one of her sisters deal with a customer who thought offering fifty dollars meant the rules no longer applied, refilled the paper hearts, found more change, answered three questions from Student Activities, and somehow acquired half a lemonade she could not remember buying.

By 2:30, her feet hurt. Her lipstick needed touching up. And they were closing in on two thousand dollars. Smoke hadn’t returned. She told herself she hadn’t been looking for him, but she had. Every now and then, she looked toward the Alpha booth. He was there. Dry now. Back in jeans, talking to his brothers and helping. Being normal. She should’ve been relieved. Instead, a tiny part of her wondered if she had embarrassed him earlier. Maybe she had pushed the joke too far. She was considering texting him when a twenty-dollar bill appeared on the table. Annie looked down. Then up.

Elijah.

She stared. He stared back. “No.”

His brows lifted. “I ain’t said nothin’.” “You don’t have to.”

Jasmine appeared beside Annie like she had been summoned by money. “Welcome back!”

Annie turned. “Go away.”

“I work here.”

Smoke placed the twenty flat on the table. “Cheek.”

Annie crossed her arms. “You already had two.”

“I know.” “Then why are you back?” “Got another twenty.” “You done.” “How?” “You’ve had two.” “Sign don’t say there’s a limit.”

Annie looked at the sign. Damn it. Smoke followed her gaze. “Exactly.”

She looked back at him. “You ain’t about to keep doin’ this.”

“Doin’ what?” “Payin’ twenty dollars every time somebody else gets a kiss.” His face became blank. Jasmine made a sound.

Annie’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.”

“I ain’t doin’ that.” “Yes, you are.” “No.” “You are!” “Annie.” “That’s why you came back?”

He looked away. That was all the confirmation she needed.

Her mouth fell open. “Elijah!”

“Keep your voice down, woman.”

She started laughing.

He frowned. “Ain’t funny.”

“It is!” “Here you go.” “You jealous.” “I ain’t jealous.”

“You have spent—” She looked at Jasmine. “How much?”

“Forty.”

“Sixty,” Smoke corrected.

Annie turned slowly. “Sixty dollars?”

He shrugged.

Jasmine looked delighted. “Thank you for supporting our philanthropic efforts.”

Annie covered her face. “Lijahhh.”

“What?” “You have spent sixty dollars kissin’ your own girlfriend.” “For charity.” “Stop sayin’ that!”

He almost smiled. Almost. Then another guy stepped into line. Smoke noticed. Annie saw him notice.

She looked between them. “No.” Smoke reached for his wallet. “No!” Her sisters started screaming. He pulled out another twenty.

“ELIJAH.” “What?” “You ain’t payin’ again.” “Why?” “Because this is crazy!”

Jasmine grabbed Annie’s arm. “Let that man support education!”

“Whose side are you on?” “The scholarship fund’s!”

Smoke held out the twenty.

Annie refused to take it.

He looked at Jasmine.

Jasmine took it immediately. “Thank you.”

“Traitor!”

Smoke stepped closer. “Cheek.”

Annie stared at him. He waited. The guy behind him waited. Her sisters waited. Annie leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Quick. Then she turned his face and kissed the other. Quick.

Then she whispered near his ear, “You’ve lost yo’ damn mind.”

Smoke turned his head slightly. “No touching.”

She jerked back. He smiled.

Annie gasped. “You—”

“Rules.”

He walked away. Her sisters collapsed.

Annie stood there staring after him. “Did he just use my own rule against me?”

“Yes.” “I hate him.” “No, you don’t.” “No, I don’t.”

She reached for the sanitizer. Then stopped. Smoke hadn’t gone far. He was standing beside Stack. Stack looked at him. Looked at the booth. Looked at the twenty Jasmine was putting into the cash box. Then pulled something from his pocket.

A napkin.

Annie narrowed her eyes. “What is he doin’?”

Jasmine followed her gaze. “Who?”

“Stack.”

Across the quad, Stack made a mark on the napkin.

Annie’s eyes widened. “He’s keepin’ count.”

Jasmine laughed. “Of what?”

“Elijah.” “No.” “Yes.”

Annie left the booth.

“Where are you going?” “I need answers.”

She crossed the grass. Stack saw her coming and immediately hid the napkin behind his back.

Too late.

“Give it.” “Hey, Annie.” “Give me the napkin.” “What napkin?” “The one behind your back.”

Smoke looked between them. “Don’t give her that.”

Annie’s head snapped toward him. “Oh, now I definitely want it.”

Stack backed away. “See, this between y’all.”

“Elias.” “Why y’all usin’ my government name today?” “Napkin.”

He sighed and handed it over. Annie looked down. There were marks. Far too many marks. And numbers. And dollar signs.

She looked at Smoke. “What is this?”

He looked at Stack.

Stack pointed at him. “Don’t look at me like that. You knew I was documentin’.”

“You a whole weirdo, nigga.” “Weirdo? Mufucka you the one buyin’ subscriptions to your own girlfriend.”

Annie choked.

Stack continued. “Eighty dollars.”

Annie looked down. Then at Smoke. “Eighty?”

“Apparently.” “You spent eighty dollars?”

Smoke shrugged.

Stack leaned toward Annie. “He got another hundred forty in his wallet.”

Smoke shoved him. “Stop countin’ my money.”

Annie laughed so hard she had to bend forward. Smoke waited. Arms folded. Expression annoyed. She tried to stop. Couldn’t.

“Smoke, baby.”

“Don’t.” “Eighty dollars?” “It’s goin’ to somethin’ good.” “You somethin’ good!”

Stack made a sound that might have been a laugh or a cough.

Annie wiped beneath her eyes. “You could’ve taken me to dinner.”

“I do.” “You could’ve bought me flowers.”

“I have.” “You could’ve kissed me for free.” “I did that this morning.” “Then why are you payin’?”

Smoke stared at her. For a second, Annie thought he might actually answer. Then his eyes moved past her. Toward the booth. The line. Back to her. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. Annie’s laughter softened. There. Under all the stubbornness. Under the denial. Her ridiculous, quiet boyfriend who had spent the entire morning trying to convince himself that he didn’t care about something he very clearly cared about.

Annie stepped closer. “You really hated it that much?”

Smoke’s gaze returned to hers. “Didn’t say hate.”

“You’ve spent eighty dollars.” “That don’t mean I hated it.” “It kind of does.”

Stack nodded. “It really does.”

Smoke looked at him. “Go away.”

“Gladly.”

Stack took two steps. Then stopped. “Wait.”

Neither of them liked his tone. Stack looked toward the booth. Then at Elijah. A slow smile spread across his face. “How much y’all tryna raise?”

Annie froze. “No.”

Smoke looked at her. “How much?”

“No.” “Annie.” “No!”

Stack started laughing. “How much?”

She pointed at him. “You shut up.”

Smoke looked toward the pink poster board beside the booth. He could probably see the number from where they stood.

His eyes narrowed. “Twenty-five hundred?”

“No.” “You almost there?” “That’s none of your business.” “You got how much?” “Smoke.”

Stack leaned in. “Little over two thousand last I heard.”

Annie whipped around. “How do you know?”

“I got sources.” “You ain’t a source. You a disease.”

Smoke reached for his wallet.

Annie slapped her hand over it. “No.”

He looked down at her hand. Then at her. “What?”

“You ain’t buyin’ out the kissing booth.” “I ain’t buyin’ it out.” “What are you doin’, then?” “Donatin’.” “Enough to close it?”

He paused. Stack made a strangled noise behind them. Annie’s mouth fell open. “Smoke!”

“What?” “No!” “Why?” “‘Cause you can’t solve jealousy by fundin’ it!” “I told you I ain’t jealous.” “Then why are you tryin’ to shut down my booth?” “I ain’t shuttin’ it down.” “With money!” “Still counts towards the goal.” “That’s not the point!” “Seems like the point.”

Stack was openly crying with laughter now.

From the AKA booth, Jasmine yelled across the quad, “STOP BLOCKIN' BLESSINGS, ANNIE!”

Every head turned. Annie closed her eyes. “No.”

Another sister joined in. “WE ACCEPT CASH!”

“STOP HELPING!”“VENMO TOO!”

Smoke’s shoulders moved. Annie opened her eyes. He was laughing. Quietly and trying not to. That broke her. She laughed too. “Y’all are terrible.”

Stack wiped his eyes. “This the best carnival we ever had.”

Annie shook her head. Then looked at Smoke. “No buyin’ out the booth.”

He sighed.

“Elijah.” “Aight.” “Promise.” “I ain’t promisin’.”

She stared. He smiled.

“I’m going back to work.” “You better.”

He bent and kissed her forehead. Free. Annie caught his shirt before he could move away. “You owe us twenty dollars for that.”

Smoke looked at her. Stack screamed. Annie released him and walked back toward the booth laughing.

She heard Smoke behind her. “That’s not even on the sign!”

“New rule!”

Smoke didn’t try to buy out the booth. He did, however, appear in Annie’s line again before the afternoon was over. Twenty in hand. Annie was in the middle of answering Jasmine, checking the cash total, and trying to figure out where half their paper hearts had disappeared to when he reached the front.

She looked at the bill. Then at him. “Seriously?”

“Last one.” “You said that before.” “Never said that.”

Fuck him.

Jasmine took the twenty.

Annie kissed his cheek and pointed toward the Alphas without another word. Smoke left looking entirely too satisfied with himself. Annie went right back to counting money. What she didn't see was him slip into the line once more later, while she was across the quad dealing with Student Activities. Kiki had been working her spot, and when Smoke finally reached the front and realized Annie wasn't there, he should have walked away. Instead, he handed Jasmine the twenty anyway.

“For when she get back.”

Jasmine stared at him. “You prepayin’ for kisses now?”

Smoke looked at her.

She snatched the bill. “Never mind. We accept advance donations.”

He got his cheek kiss when Annie returned ten minutes later, sandwiched between her asking where the extra paper hearts had gone and Jasmine telling her somebody needed more change. Annie never even saw the money change hands. And Elijah didn't volunteer the information either.

They passed twenty-five hundred dollars at four-twelve. Jasmine screamed so loudly that people at the Delta booth turned to look. Someone rang a little handbell Annie had not known they possessed. Her sisters hugged each other. Nia changed the number on the goal board while Kiki announced to everyone within earshot that they had officially exceeded their carnival goal. Annie stood behind the table smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. They kept the booth open another forty-five minutes. By five, the crowd had started thinning. Families headed home. Music lowered. Organizations began packing decorations into plastic bins. The inflatable obstacle course sagged slowly toward the grass.

Annie’s feet hurt so badly she had stopped pretending otherwise. She kicked off her sneakers beneath the table and stood in her socks while counting the final cash total with Jasmine.

“Twenty-eight sixty-five.”

Annie looked up. “What?”

Jasmine turned the calculator around. $2,865.

Annie stared. Then smiled. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

They had almost doubled the original goal. Annie leaned back in her chair. “Oh my God.”

“Worth it?”

She looked at the remnants of their booth. Paper hearts everywhere. Lipstick tubes scattered across the table. Half-empty sanitizer bottles. Glitter somehow on everything. “Ask me tomorrow.”

Jasmine laughed.

One by one, the sisters began carrying supplies toward the student union. Annie stayed behind with the money box and paperwork. By the time she finished, the quad looked completely different. Quieter. Open. The late-afternoon sun stretched shadows across the grass. Somebody had turned the music down to something soft enough that Annie could finally hear herself think. She was trying to peel tape from the front of the table when a hand reached past hers.

Elijah.

He pulled the tape free. “Got it.”

Annie looked up. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

He had changed back into the black Alpha shirt from earlier. His hair was still slightly wet from the dunk tank. Annie smiled at the sight.

“Don’t.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You was about to.” “I was goin’ to say you look handsome.” “Mhm.”

He folded the paper-heart banner and set it in the bin. Annie watched him. “You don’t have to help.”

“I know.”

He picked up another decoration. Annie didn’t ask again. They worked beside each other for a while. He folded tables. She gathered supplies. He carried the heavier bins. She organized what needed to go back to the chapter storage room. By the time they finished, most of the carnival had disappeared. Annie sat on the edge of the last table.

Smoke stood in front of her. “Tired?”

“My feet are dead.”

He looked down. “You ain’t got shoes on.”

“They betrayed me.”

He shook his head, then reached for one of her feet.

Annie blinked. “What are you doin’?”

Smoke lifted it into his hand like the answer should’ve been obvious. His thumb pressed into the aching center of her arch. A groan slipped out before Annie could stop it. “Oh gawddd.”

“That bad?” “Yes.”

He moved closer, resting her heel against his thigh as his thumbs worked slowly over the bottom of her foot. Annie nearly melted right there on the table.

“You could’ve told me your feet was hurtin’.” “I was busy.” “Right.” “And I didn’t know they were goin’ to hurt this bad.”

“You been standin’ all day in them little-ass shoes.”

Annie looked down at the white sneakers abandoned beneath the table. “They normal-sized shoes.”

“For who?”

She kicked lightly at his thigh with her other foot. “Shut up.”

Smoke caught that one too. Annie laughed as he switched feet without being asked, settling her heel against him and pressing his thumb into another sore spot.

Her eyes closed. “Okay, I forgive you.”

“For what?” “Being annoyin’ all day.” “I ain’t do nothin’.”

Her eyes opened. “You spent a hundred dollars at a kissin’ booth where your own girlfriend was workin’.”

“For charity.” “Smoke.”

His mouth twitched, but his attention stayed on her foot. Annie watched him for a moment, some of her amusement softening around the edges. That was Elijah. He could spend half the day stubbornly refusing to admit he was jealous, then notice her bare feet beneath a table and start rubbing them without her having to ask. She reached down and brushed her fingers over the back of his neck. “You know you could’ve just told me.”

He glanced up. “Told you what?”

“That you was jealous.”

He sighed. “Here we go.”

“I’m serious.” “So am I.” “You were jealous.” “I ain’t like it.”

Annie smiled. “That’s jealousy.”

“Nah.” “What is it, then?”

Smoke worked his thumb slowly along her arch before answering. “Not likin’ niggas kissin’ on my girl.”

Annie’s eyebrows rose. “Elijah.”

“What?” “They weren’t kissin’ me.”

His hand stopped. Annie knew immediately what she had done. She bit her lip. “I was kissin’ them.”

He stared at her. She burst out laughing.

“See, that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about.” “I’m sorry!” “You keep makin’ it worse.” “I didn’t mean—” “First you leanin’ over kissin’ niggas, now—” “Cheeks!” “Still using yo’ mouth.”

Annie was laughing hard enough now that she had to brace one hand against his shoulder. “Okay. Okay.”

Smoke shook his head and went back to rubbing her foot, though his expression had soured all over again.

That only made her laugh harder. “You know what I mean.”

“Mhm.” “And I would’ve stopped if you really wanted me to.”

That changed something. His hands slowed.

Annie’s laughter faded. “I would’ve,” she repeated.

“I know.” “You know that, right?”

His gaze lifted to hers. “Yeah.”

She studied him. “You could’ve told me it bothered you.”

Smoke looked away for a second. “I told you it didn’t.”

“Before you saw it.” “Yeah.” “And then?”

His gaze returned to hers. He shrugged. “Then I saw it.”

Annie smiled. There was something so simple about the admission that it touched her more than she expected. He hadn’t asked her to stop. Hadn’t embarrassed her. Hadn’t interfered with the booth. He had stood across the quad and suffered through every ridiculous feeling until his solution became repeatedly handing her sorority twenty-dollar bills. A hundred dollars’ worth, apparently. All because he didn’t like watching her kiss somebody else on the cheek. Ridiculous man. Sweet man.

Her man.

Annie curled her toes lightly against his palm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.” “And jealous.” “Nope.” “And very charitable.” “Y’all welcome.”

She laughed softly. Smoke gave her foot one final squeeze before lowering it carefully to the ground. Annie immediately missed his hands.

“Guess how much we made.” “Twenty-eight sixty-five.”

Her mouth opened. “How you know?”

“Stack.” “Why Stack know everythin’?” “Nosy.” “He knew exactly how much money you had in your wallet too.” “Right, nosy.”

Annie laughed. Smoke moved between her knees now, his hands settling against her thighs. She looked up at him. “You know what the crazy part is?”

“What?” “I think you genuinely believed you were gonna be okay with it.” “I was okay with it.”

Annie stared at him. “For how long?”

He thought about it. “Till the first one.”

She burst out laughing. Smoke’s mouth twitched.

“One man.” “Mhm.” “One little kiss on the cheek.” “Didn’t like him.” “You didn’t know him.” “Didn’t need to.”

Annie shook her head. “What was wrong with him?”

“Smiled too much.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Elijah!”

“What?” “He donated twenty dollars!” “Could’ve donated and kept movin’.” “He did!” “Eventually.”

Annie laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. Elijah’s hands slid farther around her thighs, drawing her closer to the edge. “And what about the one with the cologne?”

His expression changed immediately. “That nigga was weird.”

She lost it.

“He put on cologne, Annie.” “I know!” “At the booth.” “I was there!” “For a cheek kiss.” “You never lettin’ that go, are you?” “Nah.”

She tucked her face briefly against his shoulder, laughing. Elijah let her. For a second. Then, “You done?”

Annie lifted her head. “With what?”

“Talkin’ shit.”

Her smile widened. “About you being jealous? Never.”

“Aight, bruh.”

Something about that made her eyes narrow. Smoke was looking at her now, the faintest smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth.

“What?” “Nothin’.” “Elijah.”

He shrugged. “Just funny.”

“What’s funny?”

His thumbs moved lazily against her thighs. “You thought I ain’t notice.”

Annie went still. “Notice what?”

His smirk deepened. Oh, shit.

“That girl at the dunk tank.”

Annie blinked. “What girl?”

Smoke laughed under his breath.

“I don’t know what you talkin’ about.” “Sure.” “There were a lot of girls over there.” “Was only one you looked ready to fight.”

Annie’s mouth fell open. “I did not look ready to fight that girl.”

“Aight.” “I didn’t!” “You was pointin’ at me and shit.” “Because she asked if you had a girlfriend!”

Smoke’s brows lifted.

Annie stopped. Fuck. His smile spread.

“Oh, fuck you.” “There it is.” “That was different.” “How?” “Because.” “Because what?”

Annie opened her mouth. Nothing came out. Smoke waited.

“She was bein’ disrespectful.” “How?” “She said she’d been waiting all morning to see you.” “So?” “Then she said she wanted to see you wet.” “And?”

Annie stared at him. “And then she asked me if you had a girlfriend!”

Smoke nodded slowly. “So you was jealous.”

“No.”

His eyebrows went up.

“I was irritated.” “Oh.” “Yes.”

“That what we callin’ it?”

Annie narrowed her eyes. “You don’t get to do this.”

“Do what?” “Turn this around on me.” “Ain’t turnin’ nothin’ around.”

“You spent a hundred dollars!” “You got in line.”

Annie stared at him. “To support the fundraiser!”

“Mhm.” “I had five dollars!” “Mhm.” “And I wanted to dunk you!” “After you stood there mean-muggin’ that girl.” “I was not mean-mugging her!”

Smoke laughed. Annie shoved his shoulder. “Shut up.”

He caught her hand. “Jealous.”

“Was not.” “Possessive?”

Annie’s eyes narrowed.

Smoke’s smile grew. “Concerned citizen?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Did Stack tell you to say that?”

He laughed.She tucked her face briefly against his shoulder, laughing. When she lifted her head again, Smoke was watching her. The laughter slowly eased from her face. The carnival was almost gone around them now. No line. No sign. No sisters taking money. Nobody waiting for their turn. Just Smoke standing between her knees.

Annie brushed her fingers over his cheek. “This one’s free.” Then she kissed him there.

Smoke looked at her when she pulled away. “Just that one?”

She smiled and kissed his other cheek. “That one too.”

“Good.”

His hands moved to her waist. Annie’s smile softened. She touched his face. “And this one.”

Then she kissed him. Not his cheek. His mouth. Smoke’s arm slid around her back and pulled her closer. Annie smiled against his lips before the kiss deepened. All day she had been giving away little pieces of affection that meant nothing. Quick. Playful. For a cause.

This wasn’t that.

Smoke kissed her like he had been waiting for the entire carnival to disappear. Like he had spent hours watching and pretending and denying and counting twenty-dollar bills while telling himself he was fine. Annie’s fingers slipped to the back of his head. Somewhere behind them, a plastic bin hit the ground.

Then—

“AYE!”

They broke apart. Jasmine stood twenty feet away holding another box. Annie closed her eyes.

Jasmine pointed at them. “That one ain’t on the menu!”

Annie laughed and buried her face against Smoke’s shoulder. He didn’t move.

Jasmine cupped a hand around her mouth. “THAT’S FIFTY DOLLARS, SMOKE!”

Smoke’s hand left Annie’s waist. She felt him reach toward his back pocket.

Her head snapped up. “Boy, if you don’t—”

He was already pulling out his wallet.

Annie grabbed his wrist. “Elijah!”

“What?”

Jasmine doubled over laughing. “Put your money away!”

“It’s for charity.” “The booth is closed!” “Still take donations.”

Annie stared at him. His mouth finally broke into a full smile. She snatched the wallet from his hand. “No. You have lost financial privileges.”

“Give me my wallet, man.” “No.” “Annie.” “You spent a hundred dollars kissing me.” “One-twenty.”

Her mouth fell open. Smoke froze. Behind them, Jasmine screamed.

Annie narrowed her eyes. “One-twenty?”

He reached for his wallet. “Give me that.”

“No, no, no.” Annie held it behind her back. “You went back again?”

“Annie.” “When?” “Ain’t important.” “It’s extremely important!” “Give me my wallet.” “Elijah Alexander Moore!”

He caught her around the waist when she tried to slide off the table, laughing as she shoved at his chest.

“You went back again!” “Was for charity.” “You a liar!” “How?” “You had me thinkin’ it was a hundred!” “I never said it was a hundred.”

Annie stopped. Her eyes narrowed. Damn him. He hadn’t.

“You let me think it.” “That ain’t lyin’.” “That is lyin’ adjacent.”

Behind them, Jasmine was barely holding herself together. Smoke reached around Annie for his wallet. She twisted away. “Nope.”

“Annie.” “No. Financial privileges revoked.” “Give me my shit.”

She laughed. “No!”

He caught her around the waist again, and this time Annie squealed as he pulled her against him.

“You crazy,” she said.

“I know.” “And jealous.” “Nah.” “And one hundred and twenty dollars poorer.” “For a good cause.” “I hate you.” “Nah.”

He kissed her before she could argue. Annie tried to hold on to her outrage. She really did. Then his hand settled against her back and his mouth softened over hers, and somewhere between one heartbeat and the next, she started smiling.

Jasmine groaned behind them. “Okay! Now y’all just stealin’!”

Annie pulled away just enough to laugh.

Smoke kept her close. “You done?”

“No.” “Whatever, man.” “I want my hundred and twenty dollars back.” “Your sorority got it.” “You stupid.” “Probably.”

She smiled. Then kissed him again.

Behind them, Jasmine started carrying the box away. “I’m adding fifty to the total!”

Annie lifted one hand without turning around. “Do it!”

Smoke pulled back. “Hold on—”

Annie laughed into his mouth. Because maybe the kissing booth had been ridiculous. Maybe her sisters were never going to let her live this down. Maybe Stack had documented enough of Smoke’s descent into jealousy to torment him for the remainder of their natural lives. But Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Incorporated had raised nearly three thousand dollars.

Her boyfriend had discovered that he was considerably less emotionally evolved than he thought. And Annie had learned that watching a shirtless Elijah Moore get dropped into a tank of water was worth every penny. All things considered, the carnival had been a success.

Even if one Alpha had personally financed a suspicious percentage of it. End Note: So...what did y'all think. Remember this was off the top of my head and may or may not be based off of true events. But I hope y'all liked it. 😁

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