“A nigga chasing you, acting very chalant about yo fine ass. Be real, you like it.” His smirk deepened. “It’s cool. I think you’re worth it.”
She shook her head, but the smile broke through anyway. “Yeah, we’ll see.”
“I’m wearing you down, Kennedi Loreal Walters.”
“Bye, Rolani,” she said, waving him off with more warmth than she meant to show. He was right, she’d enjoyed him today. Too much.
When she reached the front door, she glanced back. He was still there, leaning against his truck, watching her until she was safe inside. That same possessiveness that showed up in LA had followed them home. It was alive, breathing, waiting.
The moment she stepped into the living room, Kennedi knew she was in for it. Her mother was waiting, arms folded, one brow raised, her mouth caught between curiosity and a smirk.
“Got anything you wanna tell me?” she asked. Then, without looking away, “Kenneth, go check on the cars. I need to talk to my daughter.”
Her father muttered under his breath but obeyed, slipping out the back door and into the garage with a knowing grin.
Kennedi sank onto the edge of the couch. “About what?”
“About the allergies. About the plate. About the way that hallway suddenly turned into a hotel, motel, holiday inn.”
Kennedi groaned. “Don’t be dramatic. And I pay attention to details. It’s my job.”
“Mhmm.” Her mother leaned forward, eyes sharp. “And him calling you beautiful right at my dinner table? That was professional too?”
Kennedi’s chin wobbled, but she tried to hold steady. “We met in L.A. At Giovanni’s premiere. I’ve been trying to keep my distance ever since. That’s the story.”
“Then why was he here?”
“Because he’s him. Cocky, arrogant, and possessive.”
Her mother’s tone changed. “Baby, maybe that’s not a bad thing.”
Kennedi looked at her hands. “Ma, you know I don’t know how to stay. I’ve always been able to choose myself; now I have to choose someone else. I don’t know how to do that. I know I’ve disappointed y’all by staying gone for so long.”
Her mother moved beside her on the couch. “Is that really what you think? That we were disappointed? No, baby. We were scared. Disappointed? Never. You did exactly what we raised you to do—go after what you wanted. We couldn’t be prouder of you.”
Kennedi blinked hard, fighting tears.
“Now, that boy?” Her mother’s mouth tugged into a smile. “He brought me my favorite roses and pound cake from Millbrook. Very polite and charming. Seems like he wants to help you stick around. Are you open to that?”
Kennedi rolled her eyes. “Ma…” She exhaled. “He’s complicated. He’s a little dangerous, SBB. I found out Friday that his grandmother passed right before we met, and his brother is in jail. He’s raising his niece by himself, Ma. And he never told me any of it. I had to hear it from my girls.”
“SBB, huh?” Her mother’s voice shifted. “You sure about that?”
“That’s what I’m saying. He’s not in the streets anymore, but it’s still part of who he is. He carries a gun, Ma. Not recklessly. Intentionally. And I know what that comes with.” She exhaled. “I’m a journalist, Ma. I’ve covered stories about men like him. I never expected to be with one.”
Her mother was quiet for a moment. “Your father wasn’t always the man you see sitting at that table, Kennedi.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means people grow. It means the streets don’t define a man forever. And it means I’m not going to sit here and let youwrite somebody off for where they came from when I didn’t do that with your daddy.”
“I think you’re desperate for grandkids and willing to accept a hobo off the streets. It was a fun night in LA…for now.”
“And yet here you sit, torn up about him.” Her mother smirked. “If it were just sex, you wouldn’t be scared out of your mind right now. What the young kids say… clock it.”
She tilted her head, voice casual but lethal. “Oh, and my son-in-law is far from a hobo. I saw the watch.”
Kennedi froze, jaw dropping. “Excuse me? Your WHAT now?”
