He groaned as she walked away, leaving Ashton and Jahlil alone.
Ashton started to speak but Jahlil flashed him a look. “Fine, I won’t say nothing.”
8 /JAHLIL
“Ohhhhh,”was chanted melodically through the area of the Alumni Greek Kickback. Jahlil, Carson, Kyrie and Ashton stood in a cluster of Phi Bruhs making a path for their sister sorority to stroll through.
“Mighty fine, yeah we, we mighty fine and divine. Delta Zeta Sigma ladies hit the line.”
Jahlil sipped from his water holding a neutral expression seeing the cameras out, ready to capture everything including a story that wasn’t completely true. Behind his dark sunglasses, he watched every move Emani made. Right at the front of the line, being led by Donnée who was tall and model-like but didn’t have a coordinated bone in her body.
Emani rocked from side to side and flipped her hair. The wig she wore a little longer than her natural hair making him frown slightly. He loved her hair – used to love her hair. Shit, still did. The designer denim skirt she wore popping up in the back allowing glimpses of her shorts hugging her round ass underneath. Seven years ago, Jahlil recalled every inch of this woman being captivating. It was no different now. She took his breath away. Although there wasn’t much she had to do in order to get that reaction. Her merely existing sent him into a frenzy of heat and ego and need.
“Fuck,” he grumbled to himself, trying to find anything other than the pop, shake, and twist of her hips to pay attention to. He looked over the crowd, finding a few familiar faces but nothing was more alluring than Emani.
This was the part of their stroll where they found a member of the frat to pull into their chant. Years ago she would prance right up to him, a sly smirk on her face and pull him in. Today, it was her line sister as Emani opted to pull Carson in. Jahlil understood, Carson had been her safety net and he’d been an attack on the safety he once provided.
Not objecting, Jahlil followed suit and flexed before he hopped into position. He remembered the first time he did this in public. It was his probate, Emani stood in the crowd holding Andrew and cheering like she didn’t know what he’d been doing for six weeks. She was right there helping him remember his founders, making sure his bald head was covered to combat the chill of Los Oceania nights. She was there at all of the times it mattered.
Emani didn’t miss a game, event, ceremony or likewise, while still balancing her things. Looking back on it now as he hopped smoothly through the crowd and glided from side to side, if he doubted her love for him, he was mistaken. Emani’s love was an ocean he knew he’d swim in forever.
When the stroll stopped, he looked around at the women ready to hand their panties over to him. It was Emani in the crowd smiling, for real, that placed him at a pause. His feet took off toward her before his brain could stop him. On his way, he grabbed a bottle of water to offer her.
Emani spotted him coming and her smile fell and her lip was caught in her teeth. It was like him being within six warranted feet of her shook her. She shook her head and turned to walk away. Out of the crowd, out of the view of people. Carson, who was surrounded by a handful of women, caught his eye and nodded toward her location. Far end of the yard under a tree. Not much had changed. She still sought her places of comfort. Jahlil waited until the DJ spun something to distract the partygoers before finding her.
“How long are you going to act like you don’t know me?” he posed, handing her the water.
“As long as it takes for me to forget,” she quipped, taking the water from him. “Thanks.”
“Forget?” he asked raising his brow. “I haven’t forgotten about you, E.”
She looked up at him, brows knitting. “You’re married right?”
“Divorced, actually. That shit wasn’t ever supposed to work,” he admitted.
Emani nodded. “Sorry to hear that. I should get going.”
“Need me to walk with you?”
She looked down at the phone she was studying before he came into her space. “The days of me needing you are long gone, Jahlil. Please make this week easy for all of us and just leave me alone.”
Emani swiped an icon on her screen and walked away from him. He could tell by the way her shoulders squared that it was Malik. A part of him would have been willing to let this go if she lit up when he called, if her smile was real and her laugh wasn’t rooted in the stench of settling. He didn’t make her glow. Her smile was manufactured. Her laugh damn near nonexistent. He was zapping her light from her and pretty soon, Emani would be unrecognizable to him and herself.
“Damn, what you do to make her leave?” Ashton asked strolling over.
“That nigga called. By the way she’s talking, he’s been calling,” Jahlil muttered, checking his phone to make sure his family hadn’t texted him for something.
“When you open her back up to you, make sure you’re ready to hold the shit she doesn’t talk about,” Ashton spoke. “Until then, come party. You ain’t been outside in a minute.”
Jahlil trailed Ashton back over to the crowd finding a stop close enough to The Crew. Donnée dancing with Kyrie like old times, Carson being the ladies’ man he was and Ashton spitting hella game and getting everything he was after.
“This short fuck got the gift of gab,” Jahlil chuckled to himself.
“Ay, watch this,” Carson stated, dropping his phone on the table before moving around. Before Jahlil could put it in his pocket, a group of women approached.
“What’s up Phi,” the woman in the front asked, a grin on her face that screamed pick me. He’d gotten used to the groupie stunts. Numb to it and unbothered. He’d never allowed one close enough to him to ruin his shit either. Back in the day, he had Emani and the rest of their crew to stand guard. Emani was a force alone. No one got close to him if she sensed ill-intent. When that faded, it was Aunt Violet.
He threw them a nod. “What’s good?”
