“Yeah. He’s staying in his old room at my parents’ house tonight. That’s where he goes when he has a lot on his mind. Plus, my parents baby the shit outta him.”
“They aren’t the only ones. I peeped how you are with him.”
“That’s my baby, but it’s not the same. He’s been their only grandchild for over eighteen years. They’d move mountains for him.”
“He doesn’t act spoiled or entitled.”
“He never has. He’s always been humble and gracious. He doesn’t want me to see him upset, especially about Ambrose. I told him who his father was when he was ten years old. There were a lot of tears, he asked a lot of questions, and I wasappropriately honest with him. He hasn’t asked me anything about him since then, but I know he’s done his own research and probably asked my parents and brother some questions.”
“And rightfully so. I can’t believe that nigga has a kid out here that he’s never acknowledged. I loathe men like that, and he’s lost all my respect.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to get through the season coaching with him?”
“At the end of the day, this is a business, and I know how to be a professional.”
“Thank you for trying to be there for my son.”
“No need to thank me, baby. I’m just practicing for when I’m officially his stepdaddy.”
Her eyes widened as she playfully threw a balled-up napkin at me. She probably didn’t take me seriously, but there were very few things I’d ever been more serious about, and none of them concerned a woman until she came along.
“That’s the second time you’ve alluded to being my husband.”
“And I was serious both times.”
“Kilo—uh—excuse me.”
She suddenly slapped her hand over her mouth and rushed to the bathroom. I followed her and waited outside the door for the next five minutes, listening to what sounded like her vomiting. Of course, my wheels began to turn, and only one thing came to mind.
Could she be pregnant after all?
Could I be pregnant after all?
As I emptied my insides into the toilet, that question was on repeat in my head. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d vomited, but I knew it had been a few years. I’d eaten atSoulful Dinermore times than I could count, and nothing on their menu had ever made me sick.
After a few minutes passed without me feeling the urge to gag, I held onto the sink and slowly stood. I looked in the mirror and was grateful I didn’t look like I’d been throwing up for the past five minutes. I was also grateful my stomach had settled, and I no longer felt sick.
I rinsed my mouth with warm then cold water several times, before wetting a paper towel and dabbing my face. I took slow,deep breaths as I washed and dried my hands. When I was finally ready to leave, I opened the door to find Kilo leaning against the opposite wall.
“Are you okay?” he questioned, pushing himself away from the wall and gently taking my hand in his.
“I am. Something I ate must not agree with my stomach.”
“What do you think it was?”
“I’m not sure. Everything I had today, I’ve had numerous times before. Maybe it was something I ate earlier or last night. Are you ready to go?”
He looked at me inquisitively for a moment before nodding. I knew what he was thinking, but I wasn’t ready to say it out loud just yet. Since I got what I thought was my period, I didn’t think I had anything to worry about, but I would definitely take a test to rule pregnancy out.
“Of course. You still feel up to coming to my place?”
I nodded. “I need to stop by my house first.”
We left the restaurant and went to our respective homes. I hadn’t been home all day and wanted to shower, change, and, after that vomiting episode at the restaurant, brush my teeth. When I finished, I threw some things in a bag in case I decided to spend the night.
When I arrived at Kilo’s house, he smelled heavenly when he answered the door, shirtless and in basketball shorts. He must’ve been anticipating my arrival because his dick appeared to already be hard. I stepped inside, and all my worries were forgotten, if only for tonight.
He wasted no time pulling me inside, and in less than a minute, he had me naked with my head hanging over the back of the couch while he ate my pussy. Kilo’s tongue caressed my pussy lips, gently slipping up, down, and around each fold.
