I laughed in delight. “A porch? That’s some English teacher shit for real, shorty. Explain.”
“Yeah. It’s where people sit when they feel safe, where they tell the truth when it’s dark and the air’s soft.”
“Then I’ll be the porch. Bring your chair.”
She shook her head, freckle-galaxy bright, and my decision settled deeper. I’d do whatever it took to keep that look on her face—patience, proof, presence. I had it in stock.
We said good night like teenagers who didn’t want to hang up. She told me to text when I hit my pillow, like I wasn’t already on it. I told her to dream easy. The screen went black, and myroom felt different, like a window I didn’t know was painted shut just opened.
I lay there in the dark, quiet humming like a faraway highway. Somewhere, my sisters rustled; somewhere, tomorrow waited loudly. Tonight, I just existed for a minute.
“Hell yeah. I’m happy I went to that game,” I said toward the ceiling, smiling like a fool and not caring.
My father’s laugh answered in the space you save for the ones that matter. I could almost hear that satisfied exhale he’d do when the puzzle piece fit.I know exactly what you were talking about now, Pops, I finished inside, and I swear he nodded.
Some nights were forks in the road that looked like basketball tickets. I closed my eyes and let the new route take me.
Sibling Day always hit differently.
I woke up before my alarm, staring at the ceiling with an excitement I’d never admit out loud. For twelve years, the first Saturday of every month belonged to my girls and me—no work, no coaching, no side missions. Just Reagan, Reece, and whatever I could afford to remind them the world still gave a damn.
Mama and Pops had been gone twelve years, but this tradition kept them in the room with us. I promised them in that hospital chapel, voice shaking, palms sweating, that I’d always put my sisters first, and I kept my word.
I stretched, rubbed my face, and my first thought wasn’t Sibling Day. It was Solé.
I could see her big, light-brown eyes and those freckles, like God scattered light on purpose. I could hear her voice too, soft with backbone, sweet without fragility. She didn’t speak like she needed permission to exist, and I respected that. And when she blushed, cheeks warming, freckles getting louder? Man . . . I smiled to myself thinking about her.
And yeah, I thought about her body too, because I was still a man. But it wasn’t just her curves; it was her presence, like she’d been through things and still chose tenderness anyway. That took discipline and faith.
“I’m down bad,” I muttered, shaking my head as I rolled out of bed, amused, not ashamed. I’d been surviving so long, anything fresh had me side-eyeing my own heart.
By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, I could hear my sisters in the kitchen.
“I’m just saying he’s fine, and he’s been flirting all week,” Reagan said, voice wide awake.
“Nobody is that fine, and you barely know him,” Reece answered.
“I know he got nice teeth and good shoes. That’s enough for a hallway crush?—”
I stopped in the doorway, wiping my beard with a towel. “Who got nice teeth?”
Both jumped like I caught them stealing cookies out of the cookie jar when they were smaller.
“Nobody,” they replied in unison, voices too innocent to be believable.
I narrowed my eyes. “I know y’all not discussing no knucklehead at eight in the morning.”
Reagan rolled her eyes. “We were having a hypothetical discussion.”
“Nah, you were having a ‘my brother about to find out who this young man is’ discussion.” I looked at her, tone even. “Thereis no flirting with anybody, especially when I haven’t looked him in the face yet.”
“You stay doing the most,” she muttered.
“And you not doing enough to hide your crush,” I said, pouring coffee like I wasn’t about to call my detective bro, Ahmad, for backup. “Reminder: nobody dating ’til thirty.”
Reece snorted into her cereal. “That’s illegal.”
“So is me acting twenty again and forgetting I’m on parole from the streets,” I said. “Any boy that wants your time gotta sit across from me first. If his energy off, he dismissed. Point blank period.” I even hit them with that little finger motion they loved doing to me.
