“Me too. And nothing is going to take that from me or you. Thank you for bringing me home. Thank you for loving on me.”
They held each other tenderly and then embraced in a passionate kiss.
“Can we tell the crew? You know they’re in the kitchen waiting to find out if we’re riding or kicking it,” Jahlil shared, after releasing her lips.
Emani nodded. “Them and the kids have to promise to keep this on the low until I’m ready to tell the world. You know how these internet bitches do. Mad and outraged over nothing, yelling from the keyboards of their sticky ass phone screens and dirty ass rooms. I don’t want to piss my new management team off by telling these bitches to wash their dirty pussies and find out where their dirty-dick boyfriends are.”
Emani pranced by him making him laugh.
“Yeah, that’s my baby.”
“You better know me. I’m only soft for y’all. Everybody else? Tuh? They can kiss all of this ass.”
“Hell nah,” Jahlil objected, starting off behind her. “That’s my ass to kiss. I’ll have to cuss somebody out behind all that pretty brown round.”
He scooped her up, kissed her face before placing her back on her feet. They walked into the kitchen where Ashton had the liquor poured awaiting his marching orders. “We going to that nigga’s hotel or not?”
“You gon’ make me regret telling you my business?” Emani posed.
Ashton smirked. “I’ve been trying to get all up in your business for years, though.”
“You’ll be the nigga that gets stomped out tonight. I put that on everything,” Jahlil shot. “I mean I’ll stomp your ass to a fraction.”
“How?” Carson posed. “He’s already like an eighth.”
“More like an eighteenth. And what was that bullshit he said at the club about Jahlil playing with balls?” Kyrie asked, laughter holding his words.
“He’s a fuckin’ dumbass,” Jahlil grumbled, trying not to laugh. “I was trying to focus on kicking that nigga’s ass and this short muhfucka talkin’ about ‘he’s about to play with your balls’.”
Emani and Donnée shared a laugh.
“But could we not talk about short people anymore, Jah. We don’t want our baby to come out looking like him. He might just think he got me somehow and take you to court or something,” Emani shared, letting the cat out the bag.
“Baby?!” the group sounded off as Emani and Jahlil smiled from ear to ear.
“Yeah, nigga!” Carson and Kyrie shared. “That’s how you come back.”
“The shit ain’t fair I swear. This big ass nigga shooting shots and her club up. Like I can’t even live in my delusion anymore,” Ashton faked heartbreak. “I can’t breathe.”
“Maybe now without the delusion, you’ll grow,” Donnée stated before hugging Emani.
“I would tell you I’m a grower not a shower but you already seen it,” Ashton quipped, making everyone groan.
“Ash, you can’t tell anyone. Not until I’m at least in labor. I’d like this to be peaceful,” Emani countered.
“So I can still pretend it might be mine?” Ashton toyed.
“It’ll never be, but go off nigga,” Jahlil said with a chuckle. “But on everything, none of this is possible without y’all. Y’all are our village and we’re looking forward to going into the new year with a new addition to the family and more love. I love y’all niggas.”
“We love y’all! Happy New Year!”
The end….or is it?
EPILOGUE
“You’re not goin’nowhere without me, Mani,” Sanaa huffed, taking Emani’s clothes out her bag as she packed them. “Why you always leaving?”
Emani pulled in a breath. She had an hour to repack and make it to her jet before she was late arriving to Waynesville to join Lucci and Trae Way MB for a stop on their tour. Being late meant breach of contract with the venue. But Sanaa was clearly in crisis and Emani needed to stop what she was doing to tend to her girl.
