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“I will,” Selene said, still grinning like she knew something.

Ms. Janette started pushing her cart away, then turned back. “Oh, and Juicy?”

I closed my eyes. “Yes?”

“Whatever y’all doing, don’t make me have to choose sides. I like you too much.”

Her laugh carried halfway down the aisle. Selene waited until Ms. Janette disappeared around the corner, then slowly turned toward me. I pointed at her before she could even open her mouth.

“Don’t.”

She grinned. “I didn’t say shit.”

“You don’t have to. Your face is pissing me off.”

She grabbed the cart and started walking again. “Girl, come on. We still need frozen vegetables.”

I followed her, irritated as fuck. Now, I had Selene in my business, Juvie’s granny apparently clocking shit, and my own damn feelings doing whatever they wanted. I should’ve stayed my ass home.

I spent two hours in the grocery store with Selene. We had to get another cart. She kept forgetting shit, so we had to double back. It was a mess. It reminded me why I don’t shop with her often. But the shopping trip wasn’t in vain. We caught up on the shit that was going on between her and Khalil’s crazy asses.

On Christmas Day, Hondo DM’d Selene to wish her and “his daughter” a Merry Christmas. That set Khalil off. They argued all day. By the time Selene made it to Mommy’s for dinner, she didn’t even want to talk about it. But Khalil did decide to take the DNA test. And you guessed it—he’s Mini’s father. They were in therapy as a couple, as individuals, and as a family. I prayed that they would figure it out because Mini had one more time to text me that her mom and dad were doing petty shit, like hiding forks from each other.

Now, I was in Emery’s kitchen, making him some high-protein chicken pasta he asked for. The on-season strict diets got on my nerves because I really wanted smothered chicken and rice. Music poured through my AirPods as I danced around the kitchen. I made myself a cute little French 75 for the vibes. Emery was knocked out in his room when I got here, and he was still asleep. It gave me the time I needed to recharge and get prepared for him to manhandle me later.

I sang “Lately” by Tyrese at the top of my lungs until Emery’s arms wrapped around my waist. He pulled me against his chest and held me tight. I melted right into him. He tugged one of my AirPods out and kissed my neck and ear.

“Stooop! That tickles.” I giggled, trying to twist out of his hold.

“Aight. But stay right here. I ain’t seen you in five days. I been missin’ you.”

I turned to face him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “How much you miss me?”

His lips fell over mine before I could blink. That was the answer I was looking for. He didn’t let me come up for air, even when I tried to pull back. His tall frame swallowed me, and his warm hands moved over my body, reminding me who I belonged to. He kissed me one more time, then looked down at me, his dark eyes shining.

“What’s for dinner? It smells good as fuck. It woke me up.”

“Some of that nasty-ass protein pasta. I’m making it taste good, though. I made a salad too.”

He raked his fingers through my hair and smiled. “You cookin’, and you wearin’ your natural hair. My birthday passed, Vannah. Am I that lucky?”

I pursed my lips and batted my lashes. “Don’t act like I don’t cook for you. As for this hair, I have a hair appointment in two days to get it washed, treated, trimmed, and braided down for a wig. Enjoy it while you can.”

“Ima fuck it up tonight, so I hope you brought some more hair shit. All you got here is shit to do your wigs. You gon’ leave here lookin’ like a Chia Pet.”

I cracked up laughing, shoving him. “You ain’t shit. Sit down while I finish cooking.”

Emery cracked up and made it to the chair closest to me. My music still played in one AirPod as I stood over the stove, pulling out the first batch of chicken. The next song that popped on almost made me toss my whole phone into the sink. It was one thing to hear a song and think, ‘Damn, this is so nostalgic.’ But it’s a totally different thing when it’s tied to the time in my life when I experienced my first heartbreak.

“Shot for Me” was a little too mothafuckin’ loud right now. Instead of listening to a song I’d heard a million times and knew the lyrics word for word, I snatched my AirPod out and threw it on the island. I put all my energy into finishing dinner, so I could do something other than think. Thinking kept a nigga in my head who shouldn’t be there. Thinking had me mad at a song. And those thoughts had me standing in my man’s kitchen, aggressively sautéing chicken and vegetables.

“Vannah. You good?” Emery asked.

When I turned, he was staring at me, his brows pulled together. I let out a breath, then focused on the food before answering.

“Why does everybody keep asking me that?”

“You ain’t hear me call your name three times?”