He looked at me, calm as ever. “I went ahead and booked it. You been sayin’ you was gon’ do it for a minute now. I got tired of waitin’. They got us in next week.”
My stomach flipped. “Kay’Lo, why would you do that without askin’ me?”
He kept his hand on my thigh, his thumb rubbin’ slow like he was tryna keep me calm. “I already asked you. You just ain’t moved on it. I’m not tryna rush you, baby, but I told you what I want. You know what it is with me. I want my family.”
I sat there quiet for a second, lookin’ at him. He was so calm it almost made me mad.
“I’m not mad,” I said finally, even though I was feelin’ somethin’ deep inside I couldn’t explain. “I just feel like you could’ve waited for me to be ready.”
He leaned in, his lips brushin’ my ear. “I been waitin’, baby. I’m not gon’ wait forever. I been doin’ what you needed me to do, now it’s your turn. You know what I’m on.”
I swallowed hard, my mind spinnin’. He wasn’t yellin’. He wasn’t even actin’ crazy, and that’s what made the shit hit harder. When Kay’Lo talk like that, you know it’s law.
“Okay,” I said low.
He pulled back a lil’, lookin’ at me. “Don’t just say ‘okay’ like that.”
“I ain’t tryna argue,” I told him. “I’m just sayin’, I hear you.”
He stared at me for a second, then nodded slow. “A’ight then. That’s all I needed to know.”
He leaned forward and kissed me, soft but deep. His hand gripped the back of my neck, and even though I was still thinkin’ about everything, I melted into it. That’s what Kay’Lo did to me. No matter how frustrated I got, he always had a way of pullin’ me right back in.
When he finally pulled away, I stayed in his lap, quiet. My mind was somewhere else, thinkin’ about the appointment, about him and about us.
He wanted a baby. I knew that. He deserved that, but somethin’ in me still wasn’t ready to face certain shit, and I ain’t know how to tell him that without it turnin’ into somethin’ bigger.
I laid my head on his shoulder, watchin’ the smoke drift up from the blunt still burnin’ in the ashtray. He rubbed my thigh, whisperin’ soft against my ear. “We gon’ get it right, baby. I promise you that.”
And I wanted to believe him, but the truth was, I didn’t know if I could.
Deep down, I already knew that appointment was just the start of somethin’ I wasn’t sure how to handle.
Trill-Land, Jungle Estate
I was at Pressure’s crib, in the game room, kickin’ it with him and Renza. The pool table was lit up, the air smelled like smoke and liquor, and the speakers in the corner was playin’ that old Jeezy mix. A half-empty bottle of D’USSÉ sat between us, with dominoes clackin’ across the table every few seconds, and the vibe was right.
Pressure had a blunt hangin’ off his lip while Renza was talkin’ shit like always, laughin’ loud and wild every time he scored.
“Man, y’all niggas lucky I’m feelin’ good tonight,” Renza said, slammin’ a domino down. “You see that, right? Big six, bitch. That’s how I do this shit.”
Pressure laughed and poured up another drink. “Boy, as always, yo’ ass talk more than you win, and that’s sayin’ a lot.”
I leaned back in my chair and hit my blunt. “Y’all argue more than y’all play. Ain’t nobody keepin’ count but me.”
Pressure looked up, smirkin’.
The game room was filled with laughter and the sound of bottles clinkin’. It had been a minute since I laughed like this. It wasn’t no drama, no bullshit. Just me and my cousins, talkin’ about life and business, the same way we used to before everything got complicated.
Pressure leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “So, what’s next for you, ‘Lo? You done with that project or what?”
“Yeah, that’s done,” I said. “I’m workin’ on a few new moves, tryna’ expand the custom line with ‘Lo Motion. Might start doin’ more collabs. I got a few niggas in the industry tryna’ work with me.”
Pressure nodded. “That’s solid. You movin’ and steppin’ on shit. Niggas don’t even realize how many lanes we openin’ with all this shit we got goin’ on. Then, Renza talkin’ about openin’ a lounge next year too.”
Renza grinned. “Yeah, I’m callin’ it ‘Ren’z Den.’ Grown folks only. No broke niggas allowed, no weak shots, and no bum-ass music.”
Pressure laughed. “You gon’ end up drinkin’ all your own profits.”
