All For You: Kennedi & Rolani (Love By Any Means #4)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

“T, why you still here?” His voice came out flat, but the look he cut over his shoulder was sharper than the words. Irritation was written all over him. But irritation was Rolani's middle name most days.

He checked his Rolex for the third time in five minutes — late, and Giovanni had been blowing up his phone for the last hour. Still, he couldn't walk out. Not with Tahlia planted in the middle of his bedroom like she hadn't heard a word he'd said.

“Baby, I'm just trying to figure out why I wasn't invited to your boy's premiere. I could've been your date, looked good on your arm. You know I need to be seen with you—” She caught herself, but not quick enough.

He yanked his duffel bag from the closet and dropped it on the bed. His suit for the premiere was already in L.A. He tossed in T-shirts, jeans, and slides. No need to overpack.

“Need to be seen?” His eyebrows raised. The words hung between them, her truth finally in the air. “And cut that baby shit.”

“Why wasn’t I invited, Ro? I know your friends. It’s not like I’m some secret.”

That whine hit his nerves every time. She’d been circling the same question for weeks, waiting for him to slip. Tahlia wanted the lifestyle, wanted to be seen as the woman on his arm. Her boutique was struggling, and he was her backup plan. He was too self-aware to fall for it.

The game was ending, and she knew it.

“Because you’re not my woman, Tahlia.” He hooked the chain around his neck before knocking her hand down and pressing on. “We’ve been over this a million times.”

“But we could be. I’ve been patient, Rolani. Real damn patient. Most women wouldn’t—”

“What do most women have to do with you and me? When we started this, you understood. I ain’t tryna be tied down.”

She shifted, her nightgown sliding up her thigh. Tahlia was beautiful, shapely, and, for someone, a catch. She looked good at first glance, but eventually you began to see that the character didn’t match. He wasn’t a build-a-bitch type of man.

“No, you don’t want to be tied down to me.” Her finger jabbed her chest.

For a split second, guilt hit him. But it didn’t last. Just because she pretended, she never heard the words didn’t mean he hadn’t said them.

“So you do understand.”

“Wow.” She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You gon regret this. I’m the best thing you had, and you’re too blind to see it.”

“You ain’t been no real woman to me. Fuck is you on. I’ve been straight with you from day one. I'm not fucking with you on that tip, and that ain't changing. Bounce. I'm late."

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.”

Rolani pinched the bridge of his nose and let the words roll off his back. He expected this. She could cuss him, scream, as long as she kept her hands to herself and got the picture.

“Okay, and what else?” He laughed, but there wasn’t anything funny. She didn’t know his birthday, his favorite color, or his allergies. The woman meant for him would want those details—would care about the little shit that made him who he was.

He slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and checked himself in the mirror. He looked good. Felt good.

“We both know that ain’t this. And right now that ain’t my focus.”

“You really gon’ keep crying over your dead grandmama like some weak-ass little boy? Grow the fuck up, Rolani. It’s been months. Move on.” Her laugh cracked bitterly, but she knew she had fucked up when his hazel eyes flashed before going dark.

The duffle hit the floor with a heavy thud. He froze, fighting hard not to wring her neck.

“You got a death wish?” His head tilted side to side, heat in his eyes. “You in my shit, talking about the grandmother you ain’t even checked on a nigga about. You couldn’t be my bitch if you paid me.”

“Since you left the streets behind, you ain’t the same. You soft now. That’s all I’m saying.”

“T, don’t ever disrespect me, but more importantly, stop disrespecting yourself. You called me begging for dick, not the other way around.”

He withdrew with a lack of amusement, chuckling dryly.

“T, this is over with. Good times ain’t forever times.”

A year of surface-level bullshit. Mediocre sex, dinners, and keeping her maintained. A year of her trying to mold him into something he’d never be to her.

Whatever she saw in his face told her it was final. She gathered her bag in silence and headed for the door.

Pearl’s voice lived in the back of his head… “A man who lies to women about his intentions is worse than a thief. You steal their time, baby boy, and that’s something they can’t get back.”

Brutal but necessary honesty was the only way. He was too playa for anything else.

His phone buzzed again. Giovanni.

G: Nigga, where you at? The plane leaves in forty minutes.

Rolani slid into his Corvette and hit Giovanni’s number instead of texting back. The rumble always gave him a rush.

“You better have a good reason why you ain’t pregaming with us right now.”

“Man, I should’ve never answered the phone, but I’m on my way.” He pulled out of the driveway, irritation easing as the road opened up in front of him.

“Bro, you gotta handle that. I told you I had someone for you.”

Rolani rolled his eyes. Gio and Paige had been pushing that blind date shit for months, swearing they had the perfect woman. He wasn’t convinced. Maybe his standards were high. Maybe he was the problem. Either way, he’d rather be alone than settle.

“This is my last time dealing with T. She’s getting shit twisted.”

“I warned you bout her ass.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know you ain’t calling just to say that.”

“Nah. Paige and Blake on that itinerary shit. Plus, the party ain’t a party if you ain’t here. We did it, bro!”

“Aight. Thirty minutes.”

He tapped another button and called his niece. This was his tradition before he flew out or left anywhere. They were all they had—until Robin touched back down.

“Lani!” Her bright fourteen-year-old voice filled his ear, joy spreading through him as his lips tugged into a smile.

“Roe Roe, what’s the word?”

“Velocious.”

“Definition?”

“It means rapid. You want me to spell it?”

“Nah, my smart girl. Use it in a sentence.”

Monroe was sharp, just like her dad. Rolani made a point to feed that part of her, to make sure she never dimmed herself or felt unseen. Her dream was to win the world’s largest spelling bee, and he’d already decided he was going to be in the front row when she did.

“I wish DoorDash would deliver my cheese pizza in a velocious fashion.”

“Georgie feeding you rabbit food again?” he laughed, and so did she.

“Always rabbit food. Never the good stuff. God forbid a girl wants a fried honey bun,” she whispered, like it was contraband.

Rolani chuckled. “I told her ass ’bout that shit, but Georgie does what she wants and doesn’t listen. And lowkey, fried honey buns is a step too far—you don’t need all that sugar.”

“Don’t be like that. Johnny’s Big Burger never hurt anyone.”

“Check your CashApp. I’m headed out of town, but when I get back, I want to hear every word you learned this week.”

Smart, funny, everything good about the Pracher bloodline. He’d made sure she’d never know the version of her uncle who settled disputes with fists and fear. That life was behind him now— it had served its purpose.

“Okay. Love you, Uncle Lani. Oh—and I need shoes too.”

“Say less. I got you. I’ll bring something back from L.A. Love you, Roe.”

“And yeah, like an auntie.”

Rolani laughed. “See, now you’re asking for too much. But I’ll see what I can manage.”

“You just brought her clothes back last time. She doesn’t need more,” Georgie cut in from the background, all in their business like always.

Ro rolled his eyes. “Nobody asked you. Bye.”

He hung up, that wide grin still on his face as the airstrip came into view.

Monroe was good. Georgie had her for the weekend — structure, consistency, someone who loved her.

Georgie had been Pearl's best friend since they were young girls, which made her family in his eyes.

She showed up without being asked and never complained.

Of course, he took care of her, but she was always willing to help, paid or not.

His phone buzzed again. Tahlia.

T: Fuck you, Rolani.

Bird behavior.

He ignored that shit and blocked Tahlia’s number. Rolani grabbed his duffel from the passenger seat and jogged up the steps, ready to see what L.A. had in store for him.