“Her?”
“I think it’s a her. I’m emotional as fuck right now. I feel soft. Fuck.”
“I feel soft, nigga you are soft. Been told you that.”
“If I’m soft, what does that make you, because you ain’t never beat me in anything, pussy.”
“Blah, blah, blah. Man, I can’t believe this shit. Rolani got bit by the love bug.”
“Fuck you, Rob.”
They laughed and joked around like kids for a second, and he felt lighter already.
“You gon’ be fine. Now go get your girl and check on my niece or nephew. Man up.”
Rolani grinned. “Aight, aight.”
They disconnected as he hopped out of the car. His long legs made it a quick journey to her door. He laughed at the‘Hoe, why is you here?’wreath before knocking on the door.
It was warm for mid-March, but he loved it; the warmer the better. He went to knock again, and the door swung open, revealing a smiling Kennedi. He got lost in her pearly whites and that smile that made his heart feel too big for his body. She was gorgeous, and he loved her in braids; it seemed to be her signature style, and he fucked with it.
Today, she was in a yellow, soft, butter-colored sundress that stopped mid-thigh, loose enough to be comfortable but fitted at the top to show off her shape. The fabric moved when she did, catching light, making her glow. White sneakers kept it casual, and she had a denim jacket thrown over her arm. Simple. Easy. Sexy without trying.
The dress no longer concealed the small swell of her stomach, and seeing it—visual proof of their baby—hit him with pride, possession, and protection all at once. The feelings tangled together until he couldn’t tell which one was leading. He thought back to the hallway, to how she had moved and shielded him. That’s why she couldn’t come to work that day.
He shook his head and chuckled.
“You gonna stand there staring, or you coming in?” she asked, stepping aside.
He held up the roses and gift bag. “These are for you.”
Her eyes lit up immediately. “Ahh, Rolani...Thank you. I love gifts.”
“Open it.” He followed her inside, watching her set the roses down on her coffee table before pulling out the tissue paper in the bag.
The gasp that escaped her told him he’d done well trusting Monroe, who had lost her cool when she found out the news and insisted they get her more than flowers. She’d tried her hardest to skip school, but he had to put Kennedi’s comfort first for today. It was a moment they needed.
“Rolani, this is perfect. I love scrapbooking. How did you know that?”
“I saw them at your people’s crib. I figured the baby needs one, and we might as well start now.”
“This is perfect. I love it. Come on, let’s take our first picture, baby daddy.”
His heart leaped out of his chest as she wrapped his arms around her waist. He tucked his chin in the crook of her neck as she took the picture. Her skin was as soft as he remembered. He wanted his hands on her again—everywhere—but they had time now. He could be patient.
“For now, baby daddy, for now.”
“Yeah, for now.”
“Come on. I don’t want us to be late,” Kennedi said, grabbing his hand.
He stepped aside to let her lock up, then followed her down the walkway. At the Escalade, he opened her door and rested his forearm on the roof while she got in, eyes scanning the street out of habit. When she was inside, he shut the door and came around to the driver’s side.
“Hey, you nervous?” she asked, placing a soft hand on his cheek.
“A little.”
She shook her head. “I’ve taken very good care of little LA since I found out.”
