• • •

Noah left the podium irritated as always.

He loved his job. He loved football. He hated the media.

"Good job," his agent, Kyser, praised him, "Love that you wished your old team well."

"You told me to do that. I wanted to say fuck them and let you figure out how to fix it."

She snickered as she checked social media for anything related to the press conference, "From the looks of it, you could've gotten away with it. They're still talking shit about coach."

As much as he wanted to get in his car and leave, Noah still had to meet with the franchise quarterback, Seth. He'd already talked to coaches, owners, and they all stressed how important it was to make a good impression on him.

That was different for Noah, but Seth had been on this team since he came into the league 7 years ago. 3 Super Bowl rings and 3 MVPs later, he demanded the level of respect he felt he deserved from his teammates.

"Remember, don't say much. Just that you're happy to be here, and you'll fill any roles that get the desired outcome for the team."

"Might as well say I'll get on my knees and suck his dick." Noah sighed, "I'ma just tell 'em I'm here for the same reason he is. I'm not on that extra shit."

"Maybe rephrase it-"

Noah stopped her with a shake of his head, "We grown ass men. That's the reason it ain't work out on the last team– Everybody tiptoeing around conversations, scared to talk."

Kyser had worked for Noah for the duration of his career, and she picked her battles wisely. He typically made her job easy, as he seemed to care about his image just as much as she did. Whether he agreed with her take or not, she still thought it smart to put things on his mind.

The conference room door was open, and the two stepped through the threshold to find Seth waiting patiently. Noah spoke to him as he said he would, direct but non-confrontational, and it worked out well.

That ended the list of people he needed to talk to within the organization, and he got in his car feeling good about his fresh start.

As his car began to warm, Noah scrolled through social media, only slowing when he reached his friend's story. He exited the app and called. 

She answered after a few rings, his greeting, "Let me buy you a drink."

• • •

Noah watched Kelsey through narrowed eyes, searching for any hint that she was lying, "She ain't mention me at all?"

"Nope." Kelsey barely spared him a glance, as if the question bored her. "And even if she did, I still wouldn't tell you."

"That's fucked up. I knew you first."

Kelsey paused, like she was genuinely weighing it, glancing up at him. "Yeah," she said simply. "But she's prettier than you."

"It's 'cause I gained some weight?" Noah reached for his phone, examining himself. "My trainer got me on this lil' diet—I should be back to normal soon."

A laugh escaped Kelsey as she signaled for the waitress, "The weight looks good on you, actually."

Noah's eyes flicked back to her. "That what Lake said?"

He was fishing for something— anything, and she wasn't giving it to him.

Noah didn't have many female friends, if any. Kelsey had always been the exception. Not because she was softer, or easier to read, but because she wasn't.

She never gave more than she meant to, always able to spot bullshit and give it right back.

"I know she said something, dawg. I can't be the only one thinking about her."

Kelsey went quiet, studying him. Her response was casual, "She liked the bracelet."

"That nigga don't buy her nothing?"

"Here we go!" Kelsey laughed, "Man, you couldn't wait."

Noah joined in, "I'm just asking! Everybody saying he spoils her and shit— that should be a normal day."

When Kelsey didn't give anything more, Noah sighed, "I feel like we never got the chance to try, feel me? We was kids, it never went how it was supposed to and I'm tryna' understand..." Noah's tone grew lower, "I never felt that with nobody else. We gotta try it at least."

It was the first time he'd said it aloud. He'd thought it countless times— out loud it sounded desperate, pleading.

"So it's the chase?" Kelsey questioned, reaching for a piece of sushi, "You try it, get it out your system, then, what? Send her back to Wes?"

"That's what you think of me? I never did no foul shit to Laken. Ever."

"I can only go off what you're telling me. Right now, it seems like you're on some 'take her from her nigga so I can prove I'm that nigga' timing."

Noah weighed her statement, wondering how she got to that conclusion— thinking of if that's how it would come off to Laken.

Another reason he appreciated her friendship: she was always honest, always providing viewpoints he didn't consider, "I wouldn't give a fuck if she was with him or single. I still want her."

"Why not let her be happy?" Kelsey asked, "See if she chooses you, instead of confusing her?"

Noah took a deep breath, "Tell me she's happy, and not considering the same thing I am, and I'll let all this go. I don't even know who she is, forreal. I'm sitting here asking you shit 'cause you know the 'new' Laken. I don't."

"Go ask her. I told you before I don't get into all that shit y'all having going and you think some sushi gonna have me telling you everything? At least buy me a Tomahawk."

He wanted a head start, but accepted defeat, deciding he'd just go straight to the source.

"Now ain't this some shit, here."

The voice came out of nowhere, loud enough to turn a couple of heads. Neither Noah nor Kelsey needed to look up to see who it was, having known that voice for years.

Trey slid into an empty chair like he'd been invited, grabbing a pair of unopened chopsticks, "I hate feeling excluded. I'm checking lo's— both of y'all here and nobody said nothing?"

"I wonder why." Kelsey's reply was dry, watching him help himself to her plate, "You been here 2 seconds and already yelling."

"It was actually 5 minutes. I was tryna' see what y'all was talking about."

Neither of them responded, a short laugh left Trey's chest, "Don't get quiet now. My boy look stressed. I already know."

"I met with QB today." Noah lied quickly, "I don't think he fucking with me being on the team."

Trey was usually the devil on Noah's shoulder. He was the type to go with the flow, regardless of how it turned out. While it was fun in college and even now, this was different.

Noah wanted to do this right. Clean— just to give it the chance he thought it deserved.

"Mhmmmm." Trey let the sound linger, like he believed him, "I paid a waitress to tell me what y'all was talking about. I say drop your nuts on 'em."

Kelsey rolled her eyes, "Oh, God. Please don't listen to him."

"Kels having an art exhibit later this week." Trey continued, "We going out after. Pull up and get your girl back, bro."

That was news to Noah, he turned to look at Kelsey, "Damn, you didn't even tell me?"

Her response was a hiss, "Because Wes is coming."

"I can't support 'cause he coming?" Noah leaned back in his chair, "You know how many pieces from you hanging in my house?"

Kelsey took a deep breath, "It's Friday at seven."

• • •

Laken sat back in her chair, reading a note that her substitute teacher left behind. Her students had given the sub hell for the week that she had been out. In fact, there wasn't a child that sat in her classroom whose name wasn't on the list.

Their choosing not to do a single assignment while she was gone wasn't even the worst part. Laken thought she had picked the most strict replacement, and they still ran over him.

Sighing, she reached for the stack of papers she had for this reason. She plopped them on the student's desk closest to hers, "Take the first two and pass it around."

A collective groan went around the room, and they immediately began telling on each other. It sounded like the resident class clown was the ring leader, taking everyone down with her. Although Laken never said it aloud and tried hard not to laugh out loud in front of the students, she thought Brielle was the funniest teenager she'd ever met.

"I don't care!" Laken interrupted them, "Why would y'all think bringing snow in class is okay?! I always say don't do anything in here you wouldn't do at home."

"My mama lets me bring snow in the house." Malik mumbled as he grabbed his papers and continued passing the stack.

"Well, go home and tell her to teach you."

Brielle's hand shot in the air, "Can we work in groups?"

"No."

"Pairs?"

"No." Laken went back to her desk, leaning on it, "I'm so disappointed in everybody. The only thing I asked was for you guys not to show your asses, and all I see on TikTok is a viral video of a snowman being built in the back of the classroom. Do y'all realize how bad that looks on the school? We barely get funding as it is, and from the looks of it, you'll still be sharing text-books."

It was truly the same cycle each year, with every new batch of 8th graders. Laken would try to explain to them that their middle school was severely underfunded, and that what the state didn't give would need to be made up by donors.

Nobody wants to donate to a school that builds fucking snowmen during class.

Much like last year's students, everything she said fell on deaf ears, "I'll never care about y'all more than you care about yourselves. I want both packets done before lunch."

The class at least seemed apologetic, working quietly while Laken caught up on grading tests. Majority of them scored high, with the same few that still couldn't seem to grasp the concept despite the different methods she tried teaching it. Instead of singling them out, she made a mental note to review the test after lunch.

"Ms. Green?"

She didn't look up from her phone, "Whatever it is, the answer is no, unless you're telling me you're done with the work."

"I am." Ava slid her papers on the desk, "We did this with the sub."

Laken narrowed her eyes on the paper, seeing it done correctly, "Well. The answer is still no."

"I just wanted a pass to the library."

Ava was one of the few kids in her class who actually read books. Laken didn't mind. She scribbled on the yellow pass and handed it over. "Straight to the library. No detours."

Students protested her departure naturally, demanding an answer as to why she was allowed to leave the room if they were being 'punished'.

Brielle leaned forward, a smirk spreading across her face. "We all know that's the favorite. I'm tryna see why y'all acting surprised."

Laken gave an icy smile, "I'd give you a pass too, Bri, but somehow you'd end up on the other side of the city."

Brielle had a knack for skipping school, and once you got her in class you nearly had to chain her to the room or you wouldn't see her for the rest of the day.

Laken always took it as a personal victory when Bri didn't have a response for her.

• • •

It was quiet in the apartment as Laken unloaded groceries on the kitchen island.

She missed being on vacation already. Having a chef was nice. The scenery was better than what she saw from their high rise.

Wes wouldn't be home for another hour, at least. The silence stretched a bit too much— she reached for her phone, propping it up as it began to ring.

"Hey, baby," her mom answered, voice warm and familiar. "You done being rich and on vacation?"

"Is this coming from the vacation queen? I heard TSA knows you by name."

"That's what happens when you're retired." Carmen replied, a smile in her voice.

Laken laughed, reaching for a knife, "Mama, you have to have first worked to retire."

"A retired stay-at-home mom," Carmen corrected without missing a beat. "I'm still looking for the woman who thought we wanted to work, so I can tell her to shut her ass up."

"Some people enjoy it. People like me."

Carmen wasn't moved. She never was when it came to this topic. To her, life had always been simple—find the right man, build a life, and let him handle the rest. And to be fair, it had worked out perfectly for her.

Laken, on the other hand, had never been able to fully settle into that idea.

"I like feeling like I'm contributing to the world." She continued, slicing into an onion, "I'll never forget when I realized it's people in the world who don't eat every day."

Carmen sighed, "You cried every night for a week. When you and Wes have kids, please call me so I can hear him try to explain that."

Laken smiled to herself, "It was sad," she muttered.

"It was dramatic," Carmen corrected.

"I was a kid."

"And you still are when you get like this," Carmen said, not unkind— matter-of-factly.

Laken shook her head, sliding the chopped pieces aside. Her mom always did that, reduced things down to something simpler, easier to carry. Sometimes Laken appreciated it. Other times, it felt like they were looking at the same world through completely different windows.

"I'm just saying," Laken inserted, "I don't think the world starts or stops with a man."

That earned a quiet laugh.

"Either way," Carmen said, "That man loves you. Don't work so hard you forget to let him show it."

She was surprised to hear the front door open, quickly dropping a hint to Carmen that he was home, "You're home early."

"I missed you."

Laken's smile was bright, natural. She embraced him when he moved closer, "My mama is on the phone. Tell her bye."

"Well, damn." Carmen laughed, "Hey son-in-law. Bye son-in-law."

After she hung up, Wes looked at Laken, "You didn't have to get off of the phone."

"I wanted to." Her arms wound around his neck, "I missed you, too."

This is what she missed most from the vacation. Going to bed with him, waking up with him, having him around all day.

Wes kissed her forehead, soft and lingering, "I love you."

"I love you, too." Laken gazed into his eyes, allowing herself to be present, allowing herself a moment to settle.

• • •

The group chat had been dead for months.

It only took one text to start it back.

Trey: Yooooooo

Laken watched the messages come through, Wes' snores filling their bedroom.

Kels: bye

Kels: i hate a messy ass nigga

Noah reacted to her message before replying: You the messy ass nigga

Laken's thumbs hovered on the keyboard, wanting to see where this was going before responding. She felt like she was missing something—didn't understand why Trey was being called messy.

Trey: 😭😭

Trey: The gang linking Friday, shots on Noah, I prayed for times like this again

That part— shots on Noah... Laken hadn't known Noah was coming. Kelsey had her exhibit planned for months, inviting her and Wes the moment she knew the date.

Once Trey was made aware, he insisted the four of them go out after it ended.

Now, it seemed it would be the five of them.

Noah: Shots on Lake

A smile tugged at her lips, she almost responded-- decided to let it play out some more.

Trey: Big Wes don't let her touch that pocketbook

Kels: pocketbook is insane 🤣

Noah: Then shots on Wes

Kels: y'all think my girl broke???????????

Noah: Nah. She be tricking

A silent laugh shook her shoulders, she couldn't resist:

Laken: I COULD NEVAAAAAA

Laken: shots on the queen

Kels: you sat up here and let these niggas play you out some money. i did my best raising you.

Trey: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Noah: We ain't drinking cheap shit either

Laken: get whatever y'all want. i've never been stingy

Noah: Never. always gave me what I wanted

Kels: wrong chat wtf

Trey: Can't lie that was crazy. Who you feeling like?

Kels: lake pls tell him relax

Laken: relax.

The whole conversation felt so normal—so natural. It reminded her of before.

Late nights that turned into early mornings. Inside jokes that never needed explaining.

Back when everything was simple. When decisions didn't seem to dictate your life.

Her thumb brushed against the side of her phone, eyes scanning back up the thread like she might've missed something.

She hadn't.

It was all right there. Easy, familiar, unchanged.

Wes shifted slightly under the covers— She was reminded.

Right.

Rolling on her side, Laken silenced all notifications, closed her laptop, lying them on the night stand.

She tried her hardest to fall asleep.

It was so much to keep her awake.

Her hand slid towards the night stand. A message awaited her:

Noah: This the right chat?

• • •

This house wasn't... bad.

It just wasn't what Noah was looking for.

He stood in the middle of the living room, hands in his pockets, listening as his realtor moved through her pitch,

"Open concept, great natural light," she gestured toward the windows like he couldn't see them himself. "And the neighborhood—very desirable. You're close to everything."

Noah nodded once. He'd heard all of this already.

Twice.

Maybe three times.

His attention drifted anyway, past her voice, past the staged furniture, past the way the place tried too hard to feel lived in.

He exhaled slowly, glancing toward the kitchen.

"This is one of the better options on the market right now," she added, turning back to him with a polite smile. "Especially for what you said you wanted."

Noah wanted to be close to his parents. The neighborhood he grew up in was quiet, tucked away. Everybody knew everybody.

He'd just as soon sleep in a tent near them than buy a house that was just.... a house. He loved familiarity. History. Those options weren't for sale.

"So?" She prompted gently.

Noah was just looking at houses that checked boxes, shaking his head, "I'm good on this one."

The realtor didn't react much, nodding as if she expected that, "I've got a few more lined up this week."

"Yeah. Send me those." He was already half-turned away, gaze drifting toward the front door.

Traffic was light and it still took a while to make it to his parents' house, another strike against the house as he pulled slowly through the gate.

His mom was exiting the door as he walked in, sparing him a quick kiss as she rushed down the long driveway.

Noah turned to his dad, "Where the hell she going?"

"Dinner with her friends," James said, shaking his head. Then, in a mocking tone, "There's food in the fridge."

He frowned, "Y'all need some money? Where the chef?"

"Amber going through one of her phases— Said we don't need one."

"But got us in here starving." Noah sighed, "This ain't no way to treat a guest."

James looked at him. "You not a guest."

"That's even worse," Noah shot back, heading toward the kitchen. He pulled the refrigerator open. All he saw was vegetables and fruit, "I'ma have to talk to her. This is neglect."

"I usually just go next door for some food, eat that shit like I never tasted anything like it. Next thing I know it's a pot of turkey necks on the stove."

Noah laughed as his dad continued, "I'm giving you the game right here. I'm like 4-0."

"A game my mama don't know she playing. Ain't even give her a chance."

James leaned against the counter, "We been married for over 30 years. I'm undefeated 'cause she let me win. The whole neighborhood know Carmen can't cook worth a damn."

That brought tears to Noah's eyes, "A damn, dawg. They used to be mad as fuck when she'd volunteer to make some at church."

"Folks said Pastor Johnson wife put the sign-up sheet up her ass when she saw her coming."

The two of them howled, laughter, loud and unrestrained, bouncing off the kitchen walls.

• • •

Later that week, Kelsey's smile was blinding as she listened to Carmen's praise as if she didn't repeat the same lines at every exhibit.

"I'm just so proud of you, baby." Carmen's hand gripped hers, "Every piece is beautiful."

"I hope everybody else thinks that."

Darren angled his glass towards a painting, "Walk me through this one."

The colors were light, soft grey and pale blues layered in loose, wandering strokes. Nothing was sharp, the lines bleeding into one another with no clear end. They seemed to move around each other— never touching but close enough to feel.

Kelsey smiled, "What do you feel?"

"Here we go." A sigh left Carmen as she waited on her husband's response.

"Confused." He said it without hesitation, "Genuinely confused. Is that a person or—"

"It's abstract, Darren."

"So it's nothing."

"It's not nothing, it just doesn't have to be something specific."

Darren returned his attention to the painting, "I just strained my brain for a deeper meaning and you're telling me I could've said anything?"

She and Carmen laughed, Kelsey's eyes drifting around the room to ensure everything was running smoothly.

• • •

Conversations overlapped as Laken and Wes stepped through the threshold of the gala.

They moved further in, weaving through people without stopping. Laken's eyes skimmed the walls, catching pieces here and there, taking them in.

Laken spotted Kelsey and her parents immediately, heading their way.

"Dad." She reached for her father, smiling when he pulled her closer, "Hey, how are you?"

"I'm good," Darren said, holding onto her a second longer before letting her go. "Kels and your mama talking shit about me."

Kelsey shook her head, "He's mad 'cause I won't tell him what that painting is about."

Laken hugged her mom briefly, moving to Kelsey, "Michelangelo." She started, cupping her face, "I love you, I love your work, I-"

"Girl." Kelsey rested her hands on Laken's shoulders, "Please make it through the whole thing before you start crying."

Behind them, Wes greeted Laken's parents, swiftly kissing Carmen's cheek, "Ms. Carmen."

"Hey, Wes," Carmen smiled, patting his arm. "You look nice."

As he turned to speak to Darren, he was already turning back to the art.

Wes paused just a moment, then let it go, his hand returning to Laken's waist like nothing had happened.

Laken followed her dad's eyes, "This one is different from what you usually do—I love it."

"Ask her to tell you what it means." Darren muttered.

Kelsey laughed, "I have to go. Y'all can't keep me here all night."

As she made her rounds, Laken and her group made rounds of their own, stopping at each piece long enough to say they saw it.

Halfway through, Laken felt a familiar pull, glancing behind her and quickly turning her head back around.

Too late, he'd seen her. She'd seen him.

"Family!" Trey exclaimed, "I'm glad y'all made it."

Carmen was amused, "It started an hour and a half ago."

"Not my fault." His thumb jerked towards Noah, "Blame him."

Laken smiled despite herself. Trey looked exactly the same—clean-faced, slim, and annoyingly attractive for somebody who spent most conversations acting like a menace.

Noah didn't react, stepping forward and enveloping Carmen into a hug. Laken watched as it lingered.

Watched the easy way he spoke to her father next. No hesitation, no awkwardness. Like he'd never been gone. Like he belonged there.

For a second it caught her off guard. Familiar— that was the word. He was at ease.

She hadn't seen that in a long time.

His next greeting was directed to them, "Wassup, Wes?"

Wes covered his surprise quickly, "What's up."

Noah barely glanced at Laken, hardly spoke, and she felt it.

The night continued. Noah continued to basically ignore her.

That's what she wanted, right?

A platonic relationship. One where he was her friend first, not an ex.

And still...

The more she thought about it, the more she wondered. The more she questioned.

That feeling she remembered of not being the thing he was afraid of losing. The sense of being discarded.

Wes' hand found the small of Laken's back again, "I'ma grab us a drink. Same thing?"

"Yeah." She was grateful for something simple to focus on, "Thank you."

She truly tried to focus on her parents and Trey's conversation, yet her eyes still shifted.

"You can speak, you know."

Noah smiled, "I spoke to everybody."

"That's not what I mean."

His gaze drifted toward the bar, then to those standing closest.

"I didn't say shit." His voice was quiet, "'cause I ain't wanna speak on how good you look in front of your fiancé."

Even quieter, "I'm respectful, baby. Tryna' have you in any capacity."

Laken shifted away from him, inhaling, "Thank you for trying."

"Friends and all that shit."

She laughed, "You said we'd never be friends."

"We can be. I can forget everything I know about you and start over."

"Everything like what?"

As soon as she asked the question, it occurred to her that she was flirting with him.

Her responses came so naturally, like second nature.

It felt right. It was wrong.

Noah saw the shift in her eyes, and nodded, "Stop playing with me, Lake."

"Excuse me?"

Laken glanced over as a woman tapped Noah's shoulder, "My son loves you, can I have a picture?"

Noah agreed, and it seemed to attract more people claiming their children loved him.

Carmen touched her hand lightly, speaking softly, "Let's go find Wes."

• • •

Laken woke up to the room spinning.

She gathered she was in the living room, pushing herself up from the couch. The floor shifted beneath her, tilting just enough to make her stomach turn again.

It was a miracle she made it to the bathroom.

Laken leaned against the toilet, too sick to care that her face was halfway inside of it.

One wave after another until she only dry heaved.

Praying it was over, she leaned against the wall and just stared.

That's where Wes found her, examining the state she was in, "Are you good?"

"No." Her eyes closed, head lolling, "I feel like shit—Call 911."

He leaned against the door, "You should check on Kelsey. She's probably worse than you."

When he said it, parts of the night came back. Kelsey and Trey were trying to out drink each other, she and Noah were pacing themselves, but not far behind.

Wes was just... there.

"I didn't know..." Wes trailed off, "You drank like that."

Laken barely opened her eyes, "I don't. That's why I'm sick."

"No, I mean I've never seen you act like that."

Of course he hadn't. Whenever Wes joined Kelsey and Trey, it was usually for dinner. He'd never been out with them.

That was on purpose.

Laken swallowed a sigh, "It was just one night, Wes."

"I hope so." His expression didn't change, "I'm not saying don't have fun, but it was a lot."

"Yeah." She muttered, "Won't happen again."

Wes hesitated, debating, "Thank you."

As he walked away, Laken thought back on the night, pinpointing which parts she should've been more aware of him seeing.

The dancing? Maybe not.

Some of the conversations the group had? Definitely not.

Losing count of what round of drinks they were on? Apparently that was the biggest problem.

Laken exhaled slowly, letting her head fall back against the wall.

• • •

Noah's requirement for a place to sleep in the city where he played wasn't nearly as strenuous as those for a house he planned to keep.

As he stepped through the front door of his apartment and made his way towards the bedroom, he observed the purse on the entry way table, noticed take out boxes stacked neatly on the kitchen counter.

It all led him to Destiny, sprawled across his bed, looking different but still the same as when he left her to meet his trainer.

"Took you long enough."

Her legs dangled off the edge of the bed, and he followed the trail to her face, smiling, "You ordered me something, too?"

"No." She moved, her legs widening, "I wanted to cook for you."

"You don't have to."

Destiny smiled, slow, "The keyword is want."

Again, his eyes roamed her body, endorphins from his workout still present, waiting to be expelled.

"Cook for me and then what?"

Her smile grew wider, "Whatever you want."

Noah kept Destiny around for the same reason he assumed she kept him.

No expectations. No questions that required real answers. No pressure to be anything outside of what they already understood this to be.

Temporary.

One day he'd go his way, and she'd let him. If Destiny found someone before that, he'd do the same.

Noah smiled easily, "You know what I want."

As she sank to her knees, for a second he imagined someone else waiting for him in his bed.

His hand twisted in her hair, guiding. Just enough to remind him where he was.

• • •