The city buzzed past, and I tried to breathe like everything was normal. But it wasn’t. I was heading to a gala with DaVinci Bryns. People would talk. Yet, with his hand resting on my leg and sunflowers in my lap, it didn’t bother me as much as I expected. If I wanted to give us a real chance, I’d have to accept that others would be in our business.
“So tell me something,” he said.
“Like what?”
“Something I don’t already know.”
“Heavy or light?”
“Lo, I don’t care if you tell me you stole some bubble gum in fifth grade. I just want you talking.”
“What do you want to know with your greedy ass?”
“Tell me about your mama,” he said, turning toward me. “Not about how you lost her. I want to know who she was. What was she like?”
I wasn’t expecting that, but I was always happy to speak on my momma, Lalima Grant.
“Lalima, was everything. She was kind. She was gentle. But she could cuss better than anyone I knew,” I said, looking down at my bracelet. “Strong, funny, didn’t take shit from anybody. She made the best breakfast—Sunday mornings were our thing. She’s the reason I am who I am.”
His hand tightened on my thigh. “I can see that. You got her strength, you definitely funny, and mean. I can’t forget that.”
“Shut up,” I laughed.
“I’m fucking with you, but I know you are all the best parts of her.”
I smiled, blinking back the emotion. “I wear this every day, so I don’t forget about her.”
“You could never forget her, Lo. She’s in everything you do.” He lifted my hand, kissed my knuckles. “The way you show up for people. The way you fight. That’s her legacy living through you.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
He went quiet for a second, just holding my hand. He already knew the full story, the fire, my dad, all of it. We didn’t need to rehash it. Not tonight.
Tonight was about celebrating what I’d built from that loss.
“I’m sorry you went through that. But I respect the fuck out of why you do what you do.”
“Thank you.” I flipped it. “Okay, my turn. Why basketball? And don’t give me the ESPN answer.”
“I wish I had some elaborate story, but it’s like most folks in the league. It kept me out of trouble and focused. Stetson played growing up, he had talent, but the streets got to him first. And like most men, he put a ball in my hand so it wouldn’t be idle. I got good. I got taller, got better. History.”
“I never knew theStetson Brynswasn’t your real dad.”
“My dad passed when I was two. And not the‘Stetson Bryns.’Why you say it like that?”
“He’s literally the only financial guru we trust. He’s so wise and engaging. I’ve almost got my house paid off, and I haven’t even bought it.”
He laughed. “Yeah, that nigga legit. But he’s like that with everything. Just a good dude. I’m thankful my mom gave him a shot. Real talk, you might as well spend that house money. I could never let my wife buy our home.”
“You just be saying stuff, I swear. When did I agree to being your wife?”
“Who? I haven’t lied to you or broken a promise yet. And Halo, I don’t know why you keep acting like you don’t know what's going on here.”
He was right, and I let it ride.
“I feel like I know you already. How did we get here?” I giggled softly. Something about the car, the scents, the conversation made me lean in closer.
“Let’s think about it,” he said, rubbing his beard. “You grabbed my shirt, and I was supposed to be mad, but all I could think was ‘damn, she’s perfect’. Then I thought, I can’t let her slip away. And I didn’t. But you definitely started some shit when you jacked me up, mean ass.”
