Chapter 22 #2
“Aye, Ro.” A man approached from the crowd, older, grey in his beard, built like he’d been somebody back in the day. “They want you to do the coin toss for the next heat.”
Rolani looked at Kennedi.
“Go,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“I got her,” Paige said. “Go do your little celebrity thing.”
Rolani kissed Kennedi’s forehead, then looked at Giovanni. “Come walk with me.”
Giovanni pushed off the Hellcat. “Duty calls.” He kissed Paige quickly and followed Rolani into the crowd, the older man leading the way.
Kennedi watched the way people parted, the nods and daps Rolani collected without stopping, the way Giovanni moved beside him like they’d been doing this their whole lives. Because they had.
“I can’t believe you got that nigga in love like this,” Spirit said, sliding into the seat next to Kennedi.
“Put it on em make em wanna marry me,” she sang, flashing her engagement ring.
“Perioddd, I love it for you both. Sorry, I went so hard about Rolani,” Paige said. Kennedi grabbed her hand and squeezed.
“No, don’t apologize, Rolani deserves people who go hard for him. Just because I didn’t want to hear doesn’t make it false.”
“You happy, Ken?”
“I am. Home feels good. Being with Rolani feels good. Work feels good. I’m here to stay.”
“This the shit I write about,” Spirit said, shaking her head. “The reformed street nigga falls for the woman who sees past all his bullshit. Y’all are literally a romance novel.”
“Girl, please,” Kennedi laughed. “Ain’t nothing about this been smooth.”
“That’s what makes it good. The messy ones always are.” Spirit took a sip of her drink. “For real though, I’ve known Ro my whole life. He’s never been like this with anybody.”
“Like what?”
“Open. Soft with it.” Spirit gestured toward the crowd where Rolani had disappeared. “That man used to move like he didn’t need anybody. Had walls up so high you couldn’t see over them. But with you?” She shook her head. “He’s all in. It’s beautiful to see.”
“He makes it easy,” Kennedi said. “Once I stopped fighting it.”
“That’s the hard part, right?” Paige added. “The not fighting. Letting somebody in when you’ve been doing it alone for so long.”
“Facts.” Kennedi’s hand went to her belly. “I almost messed this up. Multiple times.”
“But you didn’t,” Spirit said. “That’s what matters.”
The DJ switched tracks—Khia’s “Can’t Wang Wit It”—and half the crowd moved toward the open space near the strip.
Paige jumped up and grabbed Kennedi’s hand. “Oh, this is my shit. Come on!”
“Paige, I’m pregnant.”
“And?”
Before she could argue, Spirit had her other arm, and she was being dragged into the line forming up.
The music hit, and Kennedi fell in — muscle memory, hips rolling, feet knowing exactly where to go. She looked up and caught Rolani at the edge of the crowd. He’d stopped mid-conversation with Giovanni, staring at her with his mouth in a smirk.
She smiled at him across the crowd. He grinned back, that slow grin that still made her stomach flip.
“See?” Spirit said, catching the exchange. “That’s what I’m talking about. That man has his head up yo ass and around the corner.”
The laugh that fell from Kennedi was out of order but from the soul.
“Girl,” Kennedi said, still giggling. “Add me to that list.”
The song ended, and she made her way back, out of breath but smiling. He met her halfway.
“What else you hiding?” he asked, pulling her close.
“Guess you gotta stick around and find out.”
“I plan to. But let me feed you. Tacos or Bar B Que,” he asked, pointing to the food trucks behind them.
“Little LA wants Bar B Que ribs and mac and cheese, ouu and baked beans.”
He was off the hood before she finished the sentence. “I’ll be back. G, y’all want something?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
Rolani headed toward the row of grills set up near the entrance, and Kennedi watched him go. Watched the way people moved out of his path without him asking. Watched an older woman stop him to say something, her hand on his arm, familiar. Watched him smile and nod before moving on.
Paige watched him go, then turned back to the group. “So, Spirit. How’s book four coming?”
“Slow. I’m stuck on the second act.”
“Writer problems,” Kennedi said. “I get it.”
“Giovanni keeps asking when he can read one.” Spirit rolled her eyes. “I told him absolutely not.”
“He’d never let you live it down,” Paige agreed.
“Exactly. Bad enough he knows I write romance. He doesn’t need the details.”
“Pop would’ve had jokes for days,” Giovanni said, walking back over, phone call finished. His voice was lighter when he said it, but the grief was still there underneath, quick and contained.
Spirit’s smile faltered for a second. “Yeah. He would’ve.”
The moment sat there—brief, heavy, real.
Rolani came back with two plates—ribs, mac and cheese, beans, and collard greens on both. He handed one to Kennedi and kept the other for himself, settling back against the hood of the car.
“You didn’t have to get all this,” she said.
“You’re eating for two. You need all this.” He picked up a rib.
They ate while the races continued, and the night settled into a rhythm. Bass thumping, engines roaring, people moving through the crowd like it was a club with no walls.
“I’m glad you brought me out with you, baby. I had a good night.”
“Good, I wanted you to see that being home can be fun.”
“And the food. Mr. Curtis got a customer in me. The ribs fell off the bone.”
“I love yo ass, I swear.”
She shrugged as she finished her plate.
Around ten, the crowd started thinning. Giovanni mentioned something about getting Paige home before she turned into a pumpkin. Spirit said she needed to get back to her manuscript. The night was winding down, but nobody seemed in a rush to end it.
“Robin’s home Thursday,” Giovanni said to Rolani while the women said their goodbyes. “You ready?”
Rolani nodded. “Been ready. I got Kennedi’s old place set up for him. I need to stock the fridge, and he’s good.”
“He’s gonna be alright, man. He’s got you.”
“He’s got all of us.” Rolani dapped him up. “Appreciate you, bro. For everything.”
“Always.”
They loaded up and pulled out, the Demon rumbling through the now-quiet lot. Kennedi leaned her head against the window, full, tired, and content.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, not looking at him. Watching the trees blur past.
“For what?”
She turned her head against the seat to look at him. “For letting me into this part of your life. For being a man of your word. For being you.”
He didn’t say anything right away. He reached over, took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her knuckles.
“You are my life now, Ken. Ain’t no parts you don’t get. All I need in this life of a sin…”
“Is Ken.”
“Exactly. Just you.”
She held his hand tighter and let the quiet carry them home.