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The first time Annie ever met Smoke Moore, she was eighteen, and was two weeks done from finishing her schooling. She wanted to celebrate with Pearline, some of her cousins, and Jeanie who was back in town.

After that day spent in Memphis, Big Mama let Annie do more things without her. If Annie wanted to go to town, she had to be dropped off by Marcy, aunt Helen or one of her older cousins and she had to be back at the spot she was dropped at no later than 7pm.

If she went out with her cousins, she had to promise not to leave their sides and she had to be back no later than 9pm. But no matter what time it was, day or night, she always had to carry a switch blade in her garter under her dress. Annie had to make sure a false pocket was in all of her dresses so she could easily access the blade.

Jeanie took her time styling and pinning Annie’s hair wanting to look her best her first night out as an official adult. 

Annie even put on lipstick that their mama bought her in Memphis a few months ago. Sliding into a royal blue dress that hung off her shoulders, she felt as grown as she looked. 

Big Mama and her cousin Tiny from Cleveland, Mississippi drove to Little Rock to see some of their family and wouldn’t be back until late the next day. Though she found it hard to leave Annie behind and she would never admit it to anybody but God, Big Mama figured Marcy was right. She had to let go, a least a little for right now, and let Annie know the world on her terms. The crushing hug she gave to Annie before they left just showed how difficult it was for her to accept this truth.

Marcy walked in to see Annie twirling in front of the full-length mirror and Jeanie cheering her on. “You gone tire yo’self out fo’ you even get down there good.” She chuckled at her daughter and went to zip up her dress in the back. A pang in her chest stopped her short. “I got two grown babies now.” She brushed away a tear and took a seat on the bed. “Fo’ ya know it, y’all gone be jumpin’ the broom. Ya daddy woulda cried seein that, like he cried when y’all was brought into the world.” 

This caused Annie to turn around. Marcy hardly ever spoke about her late husband. She’d tell Annie and Jeanie a few stories here and there but none where it sounded like she missed him too terribly. “I didn’t know daddy cried when we was born. He cry a lot?” Annie wanted to know more about the man who died when she was only two and Jeanie was three.

Shaking her head, Marcy wiped another tear. “Only when it came to his girls. He was crazy ‘bout y’all.” She swiped her sleeve across her eyes and stood up to walk back over to Annie. “You go have fun tonight. Jeanie, you better keep an eye on her! Don’t you be walkin’ off without her.” Even though she didn’t want to admit it, Marcy had picked up Big Mama’s habits of fussing over Annie. She even moved into the big house, not able to stand the silence of her own without Jeanie there.

“Oh, I won’t leave her side, but I cannot be blamed if one of the fellas just snatches her away.” Jeanie tossed a smile to her little sister.

Their older cousins, Mamie and Fran waited for them downstairs and showered Annie with complements as they turned to walk out the door.

Aunt Helen came charging down from her room. “Wait!” She held up four small bags each with a string around them. “Marcy, I can’t believe you lettin’ them go out without these.” She placed a gris gris in each of her nieces hands. “Keep these on ya tonight, okay? Tie it to ya garter, put it in the top of ya dress, pin it in ya hair, I don’t care just don’t drop these.” 

Of Big Mama’s five daughters, Helen was the one that held on to the root and spirit work the most. Marcy was more focused on the more practical side like the treatments and tinctures she created but she was known to burn sage and tend to her alter from time to time. They taught all the girls in their family some of the hoodoo practices they grew up with, but with some of the family moving up north and the pull of the modern world, only Helen really kept up with it in earnest.

They left the house with the promise that they’d be back no later than midnight. Jeanie drove them to the part of town where the Black folk in Clarksdale would go to lay all their burdens down. It was a row of juke joints, bars, and gambling houses where the blues played every which way.

“Okay, we meetin’ Pearly at Jay’s Juke and we’ll spend some time there before goin’ to Mama  Ree’s and then King’s. If we get split up for more than 5 minutes, start walking back to the car. I mean it Annie. Don’t let none of these niggas charm you into they backseat.”

Annie scoffed. “I ain’t stupid, Jean. Ain’t here for no man. Here to enjoy myself.” The peak of Annie’s frustration was how everyone still treated her like a child.

Mamie leaned up from the backseat, “You ain’t gotta be stupid to fall for one’uh they tricks. Don’t even let ‘em give you a drink, Annie. They think ya owe them somethin.”

“Y’all come on, ya just scarin’ the po’ girl,” Fran interjected ready to get the night over with. Loud music and sweating wasn’t Fran’s idea of a good time but she wanted to see that Annie enjoyed herself.

The women exited the car and made their way to Jays Juke. On the way, they endured jeers and whistles from some of the men standing outside. Jeanie was stone faced as she led Annie to Jays. Annie couldn’t help but want to cover up after hearing a comment about how good her breasts looked.

She tapped Jeanie on the shoulder. “Why they sayin’ that stuff? Ain’t they know that ain’t how you talk to a woman?”

Rolling her eyes at her sister’s naivety, Jeanie continued forward. “This how men is, Annie. You been under Big Mama too much and ain’t been out into the world yet. Don’t pay ‘em no mind and if they get too close, cut they ass.”

They arrived at Jays and met Pearline who was leaning against the side of the building talking to a finely dressed man in a red hat. “Stack, you can tell yo story to anybody that’ll listen but Pearly ain’t singin’ for $5 and a couple glasses of whisky.” She ran her fingers along his shoulder. “I know you good for more’n that. Heard y’all made out like thieves in Chicago.”

Stack held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, Pearly, $10 and all the whisky you want.” He leaned in closer to whisper something in her ear.

She giggled and swatted his shoulder. “Mr. Moore, you playin’ with fire right now. I’ll be down in a bit. Let me prepare a little first.”

A cough from Jeanie caught Pearline’s attention causing her to stand up straight and put distance between her and Stack. “Pearly, we here for Annie tonight, not makin’ deals with the devil.” Jeanie eyed Stack suspiciously.

Mischief glowed in Stack’s eyes as he flashed the gold in his mouth. “Well, Jeanie Love! My word! Ya Big Mama ain’t got you locked up readin Bible verses tonight?” He laughed at his own joke. “Wait, it ain’t Bible verses. She got you learnin’ spells and shit.” 

Annie wasn’t keen on violence but she did not like the way he spoke about her Big Mama. “Yea, she learned us how to keep a nigga in his place if ain’t nothin’ come out his mouth but disrespect.” She stepped close to Stack who looked at her in wonder.

He was taken aback by how she stepped to him but a different kind of fire burned in his eyes, one that Annie hadn’t seen since the last time she danced with Horace Jones, Jr. “You must be Princess Annie!” He took off his hat and took her hand in his. “I do apologize for my language. I didn’t know I was in the presence of royalty.” He made a show of bowing low before kissing her hand. Spotting Mamie, he sent a sly smile her way. “Look like it’s a family affair tonight. I’m surprised DeLaurine Love let this many of her princesses out to be with us peasants.”

Mamie rolled her eyes. “It ain’t the peasants she don’t like, it’s the toads pretendin’ to be princes she ain’t too fond of.” She reached over and pulled Annie’s hand from his. “Put ya lips on my cousin again, and I’ll feed ‘em to our hounds at home.”

Stack held up his hands. “Mamie, you know I’on mean no harm. Man can only be surrounded by so much beauty fo’ he forget hisself.”

This caused all of the Love women to groan in annoyance. “We don’t care to remind ya, Stack.” Fran turned her nose up at him.

The playful look left Stack’s face as he started to move closer to Fran almost like he was being pulled by strings.

Annie was about to reach for her blade when a booming voice shook her to her core.

“Stack! Nigga, what you doin?” A man with Stack’s face stomped over to him. The glare on his face seemed permanent like he’d never attempted to smile in his life. “Yo ass forget we tryna run a business? I ain’t come all the way back down here for you to try to fuck everything in a dress that walk by.”

The tips of Annie’s ears burned from hearing such language but she was grateful Smoke came to save his brother. A chuckle escaped her lips gaining the attention of both Smoke and Stack.

Smoke looked her over, narrowing his eyes at her and then at the other women. “Y’all folks know y’all out here talkin to niggas who don’t know when it’s time to handle business?” Everybody in the Delta knew Big Mama Love was not one to let her girls be out like this.

The girls all laughed while Stack seemed to just let his brother’s comments roll off of him, still eying Fran who had made it her business to look everywhere but at Stack.

Annie, feeling bit more brave shrugged. “If they don’t, you won’t tell ‘em, right?” She winked at Smoke having no clue the effect the small gesture had on him. “They jus wanna show me a good time tonight. That all right with you, Mr. Moore?”

Stunned speechless by the way this nameless woman talked to him, Smoke just nodded. He grabbed Stack who had recovered his infamous smirk and led him back to a building on the far end of the street.

Pearline squealed when they were out of earshot. “Annie! You talked to Smoke Moore like that and he ain’t have nothin’ to say! Yo Big Mama must be teachin’ you some spells!”

The five women went into Jays so Annie could have her first glass of liquor and they could dance a little while the live band played.

Annie had drank wine before, not too much to where she’d get anything but a light humming in her head. The whisky burned as it went down her throat, causing her to go into a coughing fit with Jeanie laughing and patting her on the back.

“You’ll get used to it, lil Annie!” Her big sister encouraged. 

They spent some time in Jays dancing, shooing away any man that got too close to Annie. After a bit, Annie started to feel weightless from the whisky. She felt herself being dragged outside where the air was cooler. 

“Annie, you was a hit, girl!” Mamie wrapped her arms around her cousin also feeling the effects of the whisky. “Let’s go to Mama Ree’s.”

“Wait,” Pearline stopped the group. “I told Stack I’d sing at they spot tonight. It won’t take long, just one song.”

Fran scoffed. “Pearly, I can give ya $20 if we ain’t ever gotta set foot near Stack again.” She looked at Pearline’s fallen expression and tilted her head. “Unless you got another reason fa wantin’ to be in there.”

Not meeting Fran’s eyes, Pearline just shrugged. “You had your reasons few years ago.”

“Pearline!” Jeanie slapped her friend’s arm for revealing something she told her in confidence. “Now why you wanna start stuff up tonight?”

Fran seemed unfazed by Pearline’s comment. “Go on then. Imma take Annie to Mama Ree’s.” She grabbed Annie’s arm to help her down the steps.

Annie resisted and pulled her arm back. “I wanna hear Pearly sing, Frannie. We can jus’ go, listen to her and go to Mama Ree’s after.”

In the end, the group decided to split up with Annie, Jeanie, and Pearline going to the twins’ place and Mamie and Fran going to Mama Ree’s and them all planning to meet up in an hour.

Inside the twins’ place, people were packed from wall to wall dancing, drinking, and sweating. A large man with a guitar strapped to him played riffs that stirred the crowd causing them to stomp and clap in rhythm. 

The energy of the room wrapped around Annie and pulled her in. She stepped forward to join the crowd but was stopped by a hand on her arm. She looked up to see a familiar face. “Christopher!” Throwing her arms around her classmate, she had to stand on her tiptoes to speak directly into his ear. “Yo daddy let you in places like this?”

“I can say the same about yo Big Mama. She must not be in town.” Christopher was a head taller than Annie but his boyish grin made something in her flutter. 

Jeanie tapped her sister on the shoulder, seeing now that she had someone to keep her company. “We gone move closer to the stage so Pearly can go up when it’s her time.” She looked at Christopher. “Don’t you take her outta here, now. Y’all dance and enjoy ya’selves but don’t go sneaking out.”

Heat bloomed in Annie’s face at what her sister was implying. “Gone, Jeanie! We jus talkin!” She shoved her laughing sister away from her and turned back to Christopher who was sporting a goofy smile.

“I’d certainly like to do more than just talk, Annie.” He held out his arm for her to grab. “Let’s do some dancin’.” He pulled her to the dance floor once she accepted his invitation. The pair stood close to each other, allowing their bodies to be taken by the rhythm of the music and letting time fall away.

Annie didn’t know if it was the whisky or the blues that made her feel untamed but she could feel herself growing addicted to it. It was different than when she was younger and sneaking out. Now, something stronger coursed through her veins. Something stronger than want. Desire. Without putting too much thought into it, she grabbed Christophers shirt to pull him down and plant a kiss on his lips regretting it almost instantly. His lips were too dry and too stiff.

It took nothing for Christopher to respond in kind and wrap his arms around Annie to pull her closer like she was his to claim.

She pulled back feeling the heat in the room constrict around her. She wasn’t sure how long they had been dancing—maybe a lifetime or more—but her dress was soaked and sweat dripped down her face and chest. “Imma step outside for a little bit, it’s getting a little stuffy.”

Outside, the two caught their breaths and allowed the soft night breeze cool them down as they leaned against the front of the building.

“Annie, I ain’t know you liked me like that.” Christopher moved in front of her placing his hands on either side of her head staring down into her big brown eyes.

The nerves that Annie expected to come stayed buried under the two glasses of alcohol she drank earlier and she looked everywhere but him trying to find some way to escape but he towered over her. 

Christopher leaned down to say something in her ear but was interrupted by the sound of a man crying and pleading. 

The two looked to the source of the noise and saw a bloodied-faced man on his knees with his hands up. Smoke Moore loomed over the man with blood on his right fist. “Please, Smoke! I was just—” A fist to his temple caused him to slump over into the dirt below.

Smoke waved a finger and a group of men picked the sleeping man up to move him away from the front of the building. He turned without a word to go back into the juke wiping the blood off his face in the process.

Something in Annie made her push Christopher away when she noticed it was Smoke’s own blood on his face. The few street lights made it easier to see that it was coming from a cut that stretched from his ear to his chin. She moved towards him, not even thinking about what she was doing or listening to Christopher trying to call her back. “Mr. Moore!”

Smoke looked up and turned towards a voice he heard earlier that night. Annie Love. He could handle drunk men with blades and bad gambling habits just fine. He couldn’t handle whatever DeLaurine Love would do to him and his brother if word got back that her girls were at their place tonight. He held his face and kept walking, content to ignore the woman walking quickly towards him.

“Mr. Moore!” Annie caught him by the shoulder and turned him around like it was nothing. “Let me look at that.” She had no idea why she felt the need to make sure he was okay after seeing him beat that man.

Pulling away from her, Smoke held his face as more blood poured out. “It ain’t nothin.” He looked behind her for her sister and cousins and only saw a confused Christopher standing a few paces behind her like he was ready to snatch her away at any second. That angered Smoke much more than the cut on his face. “Find ya folks and get outta here.” 

Annie rolled her eyes. “Mr. Moore, I done seen men fightin’ before. Just don’t want that to get infected or nothin’.” She pointed to his face. “Let me see how deep it is.” She pulled his hand from his face and studied the cut, holding his chin and tilting his head for an easier view. “I can clean it up for you now and you can come out to the shack tomorrow mornin for some salve to put on it. Keep it from scarrin up too bad.”

Smoke pulled his head back out of her grasp. “I ain’ worried ‘bout no scarrin’ got plenty mo’ where that came from.” And he wasn’t about to catch heat from her grandma about being on their land. DeLaurine told everybody who was anybody that the SmokeStack twins was rotten just like their daddy. Hard to do honest business when everybody thought you were the devil anyway.

Quirking a brow at him, Annie just shrugged. “With a face like yours, Mr. Moore, maybe you should be. Folks get to thinkin’ they can leave their mark on it.” 

It would’ve been best if he walked away. If he pretended he never met Annie Love but something in her big brown eyes told him to trust her. He gave a short nod and walked towards a side door, hearing her footsteps following closely behind him.

“Annie!” Christopher bounded up to her. “You lost yo mind? Where you think you goin with him?” He grabbed Annie’s arm just in time for Smoke to turn around.

Snatching back from Christopher, Annie rubbed her arm. “I’m going to help him with the cut on his face. I’ll be back out in a minute.”

A rage in Smoke almost bubbled to the surface before he felt Annie’s soft hand on his arm and a look pleading with him to let Christopher be. “She’ll be back in a lil bit but you grab her like that again, I’ll give you a cut to match mine.”

Christopher’s mouth gaped like a fish as Smoke and Annie disappeared through the side door.

There wasn’t much lighting in the back of the building so, Annie stuck close to Smoke as he led her upstairs to a dimly-lit office. “You got any clean rags or bandages in here?”

Smoke went to the wooden cabinet that sat on the far side of the room and opened it. He pulled out a medium-sized white tin that was embossed with a red cross. He handed it to Annie. “It should have everything you need for now.”

“I like when a man has what I need,” Annie said without thinking. Those two glasses of whiskey were still controlling her it seemed. “Shoot! I ain’t mean it like that, Mr. Moore.”

Smoke did his best not to crack a smile and feel the sting of the cut. “I know what you mean, Annie.” He sat in his desk chair and watched as Annie pulled what she needed from the first aid kit.

She tore open a foil packet of iodine soaked cotton swabs. “This gone sting. I don’t want you fussin and cussin at me when I put it on this cut.” She tilted his head so that she had a good look at the damage before she swiped over it with a swab and watched it bubble from

Although he was no stranger to pain, the sting of the iodine caught him off-guard and he grabbed Annie’s waist like it was the last thing he’d ever hold on to. “I’m sorry. Ain’t mean to.” He put his hands by his side.

“Ain’t bother me none,” Annie shrugged. “My aunt Helen say if you feel like you gone float away, sometimes you just grab on to whatever is closest.” She continued to clean the wound. “What that man do to make you beat him so?”

It wasn’t a conversation he cared to have but he definitely didn’t want to have it with Annie Love and make her more scared of him than she probably already was. Then her family would have another reason to hate him. “That ain’t somethin you need to concern yo’self with.” It came out a lot harsher than he intended it to but he wasn’t in the business of being soft for folks.

“Well if it get you a blade to the face, I would certainly like to know, Mr. Moore. What if the same thing happen to me?” She wasn’t phased by his tone. If anything it was nice to have somebody not talk soft to her like she was a little kid.

Not knowing if he should take it as a joke or not, he chuckled. “Girl like you shouldn’t be in no gamblin rooms no how. You ain’t gotta worry about it happenin to you.”

“A girl like me, huh? What kinda girl would that be, Mr. Moore?” She dug around in the first aid kit again and pulled out gauze and tape. “You got any petroleum jelly around here? Don’t want the gauze stickin’ to the cut.”

“Yeah. It’s in that far cabinet over there.” He pointed to another wooden cabinet on an opposite wall.

Annie made her way to it. “You gone answer my question? What kinda girl am I?” She retrieved the container and walked back over to Smoke and leaned against the desk.

“You Love women all the same. Prim and snooty.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Smoke regretted them.

Gasping, Annie slammed the petroleum jelly down on the desk. “Now wait a minute. I ain’t ask you to pass judgement on my family. If you feel that way about me, that’s fine. I guess we all feel someway about people we ain’t never met. I heard you was the devil and I ain’t see much tonight that make that untrue.” She resumed her task despite her frustration at him. She coated her finger with the thick grease and rubbed it on the cut.

“Maybe I am the devil. Still don’t change the way you Loves walk around with ya noses turned up at everybody.” Years of his and his daddy’s anger at the Love women had flowed out and he didn’t know how to stop it.

“Mr. Moore, you obviously know nothin about my family. We help a lot of people in the Delta.”

“No you exploit a lot of people in the Delta. Sellin em fake cures and spells and shit. Pigs on your farm doin em any good other than givin them high blood pressure?”

Stopping her work, Annie looked at him stunned. His face was as angry as she’d ever seen anybody be. “And what ya juke joint doin other than turnin good men into drunks and makin ‘em give away everything they work for?”

“I’m survivin’ just like you, princess. Some of us don’t have our great-great-granddaddy’s money to live off of though.”

The switch blade was out of her garter and at his throat faster than he could blink. “You watch yo’self, Mr. Moore. You got lucky with this one on your face, but I know how to empty a pig quicker than the time it would take for you to run out that door to scream for help.”

Even with her knife at his throat, Smoke felt the furthest thing from fear. In fact, he’d prefer to be scared to what he was actually feeling—a rising passion for Annie Love. He simply nodded and waited for her to lower her knife. “Where you learn how to draw a knife like that?” He hated to think she’d have to use it often but was impressed by her quickness.

With her heart threatening to burst through her chest at the realization that she put a knife to Smoke Moore’s throat, she dressed his cut with gauze and stood back to check that it was secure. “My mama taught me a thing or two. Don’t sleep on this side of your face tonight.” She needed to get out of there. “I’ll make up some salve for you to come pick up in the mornin.” With the extra gauze, she wiped her oily finger. “I’ll be up first thing and my Big Mama won’t be there.”

Smoke nodded not knowing what to say. “Thank you, Miss Annie.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Moore.” With that she practically bolted out of the office and down the hall to the door they entered into. Once out, she was met with angry shouts from Jeanie, Mamie, Pearline, and Christopher.

“What the hell you thinkin, Annie, goin in there with that man?” Jeanie’s disgust was evident on her face as she checked her sister over. “I told you not to run off with no man and it was Smoke Moore you followed?”

Her stomach was still in knots from what happened in Smoke’s office, her mind was barely registering what Jeanie was saying. “I was just helpin him. He didn’t do anything to me.”

“That ain’t the point, Annie!” Mamie wagged her finger. “What if the man he beat came back with a gun and you was caught between ‘em, huh? It’s more ways for a man to hurt you than with his own hands. And a man like that don’t mind other folk gettin hurt on his behalf.”

Laughter bubbled in Annie’s throat. “Y’all makin too much of it now. That man ain’t no wild animal don’t know how to restrain hisself.”

Pearline crossed her arms, her hair half down and her skin clammy. “And since when did lil Annie come to know so much about Smoke Moore?”

“Well, he ain’t do nothin’ to me.” Annie held her arms out and did a slow circle so they could all see she was unharmed. “He don’t bite.”

Jeanie gripped her arm and led her away from Club Juke. “You bet not let Big Mama hear you got that close to him. She’ll never let you out again, no matter how old you get.”

They continued to berate her choice to help Smoke but their words went in one ear and out the other. Annie just couldn’t get the look in Smoke’s eyes out of her head. Her blade to his throat didn’t scare him. He didn’t even flinch. There was something else she saw but she couldn’t name it. Or maybe she didn’t want to. 

Her heart was still racing and with folks yelling in her ear and Smoke Moore’s eyes unnerving her, she was at her wits end. “Okay! I heard y’all the first time!” She wanted to pull her hair out. “I only went to help him and I’m here now. You ain’t gotta fuss about it! Now it’s still some time left in the night and I wanna dance some more.” She also needed another drink. Ignoring the calls for her to stop, Annie walked toward Mama Ree’s.

“That girl done lost her damn mind tonight.” Jeanie was ready to snatch her sister up and just go back home and she told her cousins such.

“No, Jeanie. That’s the problem now,” Fran finally spoke up. “Annie been under Big Mama all her life. She ain’t get to sneak out all the time like we did. She ain’t get to make the mistakes we did. If she did, maybe she wouldn’t have disappeared on us like that. She grown now though and we gotta treat her like she is.”

“Thank you, Frannie.” Annie hugged her cousin. 

“Girl, you owe me a dollar for those two drinks since you so grown now.” Fran rolled her eyes and patted Annie on the back.

***********

The next morning, Annie woke to a pounding in her head on the floor of the den covered in a quilt. Her tongue felt like sandpaper against the roof of her mouth and her bladder felt like it was about to explode. She rolled over to the couch were Fran was sprawled out and pulled herself up. She looked around and noticed everybody was still sleep in their clothes with Mamie loudly snoring from her spot next to where Annie laid previously. Jeanie had taken up residence on the love seat with it fitting her height perfectly and Pearline was draped over the armchair.

Making her way to the bathroom, using the wall to keep her upright, Annie groaned at the sunlight that filtered through the windows as she recalled the events from last night. The relief she felt after emptying her bladder almost made her cry. She sat on the commode for a moment thinking back to the drinks she had and the dancing she did and Christopher. The slight flutter in her stomach had returned. 

She had her eye on Christopher for a while but she knew Big Mama would find a way to control the situation. So, Annie kept her feelings to herself hoping to make her feelings known after they finished school and Big Mama could accept that she was an adult. 

It was pure luck that she was able to see him last night because his daddy was like her Big Mama—against all the sin and shame that happened at those blues clubs. He ran a respectable business, a clothing and shoe store for colored folks in Clarksdale, and he wasn’t about to have his kin shaming his name gambling, drinking, and gyrating over everything that moved.

The ache in Annie’s head persisted as she thought about when she’d meet Christopher again. She cleaned up before leaving the bathroom and trudged upstairs to her room to get out of her dress that smelled of cigarette smoke and shame. Smoke. She forgot she told him to come by this morning after seeing that cut on his cheek. What was going through her mind, she’d invite a man like that out to their family home? 

If Big Mama found out, she sure would never see Christopher again because Annie would be locked in her room for the rest of her life. She moved as fast as she could with her body stiff from dancing and sleeping on the hard floor to change and creep back downstairs. 

The morning air assaulted her senses as she closed the front door soft enough where no one could hear. A ball of fur ran up to her sniffing at her legs and whining. Annie looked down at Finny, her hunting beagle she got a few weeks before she graduated high school.

His big ears flopped over his head as he jumped up waiting for Annie to pet him. Annie just scooped him up to silence his whining and took him with her to the herb shack.

“Finny we gone get in a lot of trouble if that man show up here and folk find out so you gotta be quiet and I’ll give you all my breakfast ham for a week.” She looked at the dog in her arms whose tongue lolled out of his mouth at the sound of the word ham. 

They made it to the shack and Annie started pulling ingredients from the shelves that lined the walls to place them on the counter in the middle. She hoped Smoke Moore didn’t show up but she could get rid of him quicker if the balm was already made.

As if the world was against her this morning, she heard the sound of a car pull up in front of the house. She looked up to see a crimson Ford Custom with an unmistakable figure at the wheel. Running to the door of the shack, she waved to get his attention hoping no one in the house heard the car. 

*************************

Smoke cursed to himself the whole way to the Love herb shack. He just knew this would end with a bullet in his ass but, for some reason he couldn’t explain, he got in his car this morning to see Annie Love so she could give him something for the cut on his face. That’s what he told himself at least, but the closer he got to the Love family farm, the stronger the pull he felt. Like something bigger than him was leading him right to her. 

The cut wasn’t too deep, but it was enough to leave a mark and as Annie said, he didn’t want folks thinking they could start marking up his face. Her voice played in his head through the night as he tried to sleep. She barely said much to him, but it was enough to put him in his place each time.

He pulled up to the front of the big house and took in its looming presence. He knew it had been built from decades of the family working the land it stood on and it not only housed the souls in it, but it sheltered them from the cruel lives of folks like him.

Movement from his periphery caught Smoke’s attention. Annie stood in the door of a small shack waving him over. He turned the wheel and drove his car the short distance to the shack before getting out. He flexed his hands to stop them from shaking as he walked up to greet Annie. “Mornin’, Miss Annie.” He took off his hat and joined her inside before his shoes were assaulted by a small dog with gold and black spotting his white fur.

“Go ahead and have a seat right there.” Annie pointed to a wooden stool that sat next to the counter in the middle. “Don’t mind Finny, he ain’t used to company this early but he don’t bite none.” She pointed to an empty corner and ordered Finny over. “I ain’t had much time to fix this up yet. Jus’ woke up.” She placed her palm to her head for a moment before continuing to add things to a small glass bowl.

Her voice was heavy with sleep and less playful than it was last night. “S’alright. You get home okay?” Smoke didn’t know much of what to say to her. It was apparent by the tired look in her eyes and her wild hair that she was still feeling the effects of whatever she got up to after she left their place.

“I’m here, ain’t I?” Annie snapped, vigorously stirring up the mixture. She held her head again and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mr. Moore. I ain’t feelin’ too good this mornin.” It didn’t help that their conversation from the previous night was still ringing in her head.

Smirking at her apparent hangover, Smoke just shrugged. “Seem like you learnin a lesson, same as me.” He pointed to the gauze he taped on his face. “Gotta know when to stop.”

Annie scoffed at the idea that she was anything like Smoke Moore. “I ain’t no drunk, Mr. Moore, jus got a lil carried away.” She stopped mixing and walked over to him to inspect the bandage. “You sleep on this any last night?

Angling his head up so Annie could get a better look, Smoke shrugged and flexed his hands. “I ain’t mean to if I did.” 

“You get cut a lot?” The words left Annie’s mouth before she could stop them. The pounding in her head got worse as she realized what she said. “I ain’t—that ain’t none of my business.”

Instead of taking offense, Smoke smirked easily at the comment. “Mostly in the military during training. Ain’t too many cuts come from other folk’s blades.” He meant to say it casually but it came out like a warning.

Annie’s breathing hitched and she turned away from him, not liking the glint in his eyes or the warning in his tone. “Ever think of doin’ somethin’ other than fightin’ all the time?” Taking out a bottle of iodine and a few cotton balls, she moved closer to him to remove the gauze. 

“Oh, it ain’t all the time. Just when it’s necessary.” He hissed at the gauze being pulled back feeling the sting of the cut.

Annie tried to be gentle as possible as she removed the tape but Smoke’s hiss stopped her. Finny sat up and whined a little. She examined the gauze and saw it was stuck to the cut. “Finny, stop actin’ like you the one hurt over there. Mr. Moore gon be alright.” To Smoke she said, “I gotta wet this so it come off clean.”

Smoke nodded before she went to grab a bottle of clear liquid from one of the shelves. His pulse raced as she moved back in front of him, her sweet scent invading his nostrils. Suddenly he felt water dripping from his face catching him off-guard and causing him to flinch.

“It’s just water, Mr. Moore. Gotta soak this so it ain’t pullin’ at ya skin.” She proceed to peel back the gauze easily. “See? Wasn’t so bad. Sorry, I got ya clothes wet.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. She slid on a pair of latex gloves she had laid out before opening the bottle of iodine solution. Tipping the bottle of iodine on to the cotton ball with one hand, she held Smoke’s arm with the other. “This gone burn and I don’t want you yankin’ away from me.”

The wet cotton against the cut caused a sting that intensified causing Smoke to grab on to the thing closest to him: Annie’s hips. He went to pull back put was stopped by a squeeze on his arm. Finny ran over with a whimper and sat by his leg.

“S’alright,” Annie said calmly as she continued to work wondering if the lightness in her head was from last night’s whiskey or his hands on her. “I’m almost done with this part.” She finished cleaning the cut and dropped the used cotton ball on to the counter top. She blew on the cut to cool the burning sensation she knew Smoke was feeling.

Feeling his head grow light from the burning of the iodine and Annie’s cool breath providing some relief, Smoke held on to her a little tighter to keep himself upright.

“This gone keep it from scarrin up too bad.” Annie held up the glass bowl with whatever mixture she prepared. “It’s a salve with some petroleum jelly and herbs.” She scooped some onto her finger and ran it over the cut. “You wanna put some of this on twice a day before you wrap it.”

The salve tingled but the coolness of it all but erased the pain from the iodine and from the cut itself. Smoke’s shoulders relaxed. “You musta put some of that magic in there. That feel good.”

Annie couldn’t help but giggle at the look of ease on Smoke’s face. “Ain’t got too much magic, Mr. Moore. You’ll have to ask my aunt Helen for some of that.”

“Ask me for what?” Helen’s voice came from the door. She took in the sight of her niece standing close to the notorious Elijah Moore and tending to his wound while he had a grip on her hips.

The pair jumped apart like they had been caught doing something indecent. Annie held her hand to her chest to calm the heart that was threatening to beat out of her chest. “Goodness, Aunt Helen!”

“Goodness to you too, Annie. Elijah.” She looked at his startled face and winked.

Smoke stood up causing Finny to stand with him. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Miss Annie offered to give me somethin’ for this cut. Ain’t lookin to cause no trouble for her.” Or me. He knew this was a bad idea from the jump. He picked up his hat so he could leave but was pushed back down by the force of Annie’s hand.

“You ain’t goin’ out like this, Mr. Moore.” Annie dipped her finger into the salve again. “Only trouble you gone cause is Aunt Helen chasin’ you down to make sure this done right.”

Helen made her way around the counter to the other side of the shack allowing her niece to continue. “Better listen to the girl, Elijah, or you’ll have me to deal with.”

Smoke’s wariness turned into confusion. The Love women hated the Moore men. At least they hated him, his brother, and their daddy. Growing up, Big Eli would always cuss and complain about the “Love witches” and how they had put a curse on him. Smoke knew for a fact that DeLaurine had no warmth in her heart for them especially after the way she held a gun to Stack’s head when he made the mistake of fooling around with Francine Love a few years back. So why did Annie and Helen act like his presence in their home was no big deal?

Annie saw the confusion in his eyes. “Aunt Helen like to help folk that need it, she ain’t one to judge.” She paused and noticed the grin on her aunt’s face. “Well, she ain’t one to judge too much. Unlike the rest of us, she ain’t got her ‘nose stuck up in the air.’” She nudged Smoke playfully.

“I appreciate it,” Smoke breathed in relief but realizing just how out of line he was last night when he judged the Love family. “Know I ain’t really welcome ‘round here.”

It wasn’t something Annie could disagree with. It was best Helen was the one to find them and not Marcy or any of the other women in the house. “You along with a few others, Mr. Moore, but my butt on the line too so you ain’t gotta worry ‘bout it gettin back to my Big Mama.”

Smoke tried to crack a smile but thought better of it when he felt the burn of the cut.

“I know this gone be hard for you, but try not to smile too much in the next few days,” Annie joked feeling more at ease with Aunt Helen present. “Don’t wanna open the cut again.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Smoke said seriously. He couldn’t recall a time when someone took care of him like this without being required to. He knew his reputation preceded him and his face was fixed in a permanent glower that made folks steer clear which he was fine with for the most part. But he had to admit, being fussed over and cared about felt good.

Annie cut the gauze to length and placed it gently on Smoke’s face before putting the roll of tape in his hand. “Pull the tape until I say stop.” He followed her order so she was able to cut off the correct amount of tape to hold the gauze in place. She took the tape back and rolled out the rest of what she needed to cut and place around the rest of the gauze. “There you go, Mr. Moore.” She stood back to examine her work and beckoned Aunt Helen over to take a look.

“Did good, Annie,” Helen approved. “Elijah, you don’t wanna be sleepin’ on this or gettin’ it wet. You gone put some of the salve on—” She was interrupted by Annie’s pleading eyes. “I’ll let Annie tell ya since she made it an’ all.” Helen went back to the corner where she resumed crushing herbs while her niece finished up with Elijah Moore.

Taking a small wooden spoon and an empty palm-sized tin, Annie scooped the rest of the salve into it and placed a lid on top to fit snuggly. “You gone use it twice a day, once in the morning and once before you go to bed but don’t lay on it. If you roll over in ya sleep, put a pillow behind ya so it’ll wake ya up. After a week, you can stop using the gauze and just put the salve on it. If it get sweaty and dirty, you can clean it with iodine.” She placed the bottle she used on top of the tin. “Now I ain’t mind doin’ this for you, Mr. Moore, but don’t make a habit of get ya’self all cut up, ya hear?”

Smoke had to resist another smile but his eyes showed it all the same. “Yes, ma’am, Miss Annie.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a stack of bills.

With wide eyes, Annie grabbed his hand with all the money in it. “You put that away, we don’t work for money in here.” She looked around the shack like the presence of money would cause it to collapse. 

The look of fear in Annie’s eyes had Smoke quickly putting the money away. “I can’t just give you nothin for patchin’ me up.” He stood and grabbed his hat, noticing how Finny stood closer to him.

“You gave me a chance to do my work.” Annie busied herself clearing off the counter. “Just don’t go out there doin’ it again. I know them hands is good for somethin other than fightin. Can’t promise you I’ll be able to help next time anyhow.” If it wasn’t for the glasses of whiskey, maybe she wouldn’t have offered to help him last night. Maybe. But the flutter in her stomach was telling her something different.

“Well, thank ya, Miss Annie.” He turned to Helen who had stopped what she was doing. “Thank you too. Ms. Helen. Y’all won’t see me in here again but I appreciate ya.”

A knowing look crossed Helen’s face. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Elijah, but you better get going fo’ the rest of the ladies in the house come out to ask about the car in the yard.”

He took one last look around the shack before stepping out into the Mississippi morning. Finny tried to follow him but was held back by Annie promising him extra ham. As he drove away, an ache made its home in his chest and wouldn’t leave until the next time he saw Annie Love.

———————-

it was her friend's graduation outing and she didn't want to be the only one to not show up when it mattered most. no matter how much she wanted to crawl back in bed and watch reruns of law and order suv.

aneika decided on a black bandage dress and black heels with the gold ysl holding them up. if she was going to go out she might as well put on her good shit. annie just hoped she wouldn't regret this at the end of the night.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

annie's mood was looking up but that was to be expected when your friends are as lit as her's were right now. the feeling that she had prior was melting away by the minute due to the atmosphere her group created. drinks were flowing, the dj was playing hit after hit, and all her girls looked good.

partition by Beyonce was the next song to come on. aneika lost all home training as she and her friends raced to the dance floor. she grinded her hips against her friend, drunk giggles escaping freely. she sighed deeply as she thought about how she always sung this to smoke. but she wouldn't be one of those " i miss my man" bitches, at least not right now. maybe later though..

she continued to dance until she felt her homegirl, asia, stumble into her back. before she could even turn around to ask what was wrong, she heard words that ensured the night was about to take a turn for the worst.

"damn bitches can't say excuse me" asia yelled out to another group of girls pushing their way through the sea of people.

"ian gotta say nothing if ion want to ho" that feeling was back in annie's chest. she knew something was about to pop off.

"girl shut the fuck up" another one of annie's friends said back.

next thing you know a drink flew and a heel came next. annie thought for a few quick seconds. thought about what would happen after the fight. what would happen if smoke found out.

but that was a later annie problem.

she swung on the girl across from her. fists punching harder and harder with each swing. each hit connecting more than the last. in her mind she knew this was crazy but she would always have her friend's back no matter what. she would think of the consequences later.

the girl got one good punch in before what aneika assumed was security snatched her up. legs kicking and body turning trying to make an escape.

the night time air smacked annie in the face as she was sat down on the curb.

"sit down and chill the fuck out" the security guard said as her friends were sat down next to her.

annie bounced her leg fast, adrenaline spreading through her body like a virus. she could not wait to tell her man about this shit. she picked up her phone and hit the only contact pinned in her phone.

elijah saved under the name "jah jah 💋" since he hated when she called him that name.

jah jah 💋

why tf i just get into a

group fight at the club😭

aneika 😐

i'm otw

annie put her phone down and continued to rethink her life decisions. she knew smoke was going to pissed ALL the way off when he came to get her but a part of her didn't really care at the moment. aneika would cross that bridge when she came to it.

"so you hoes think it's okay to put y'all hands on people now" this random man approached the group of women.

annie picked up her phone and began to scroll through instagram because there was no way in hell he thought he was talking to her like that.

" yea you too bitch" the man spat stepping directly in front of annie.

"who tf you talking to???" anieka looked up irritation seeping back into her blood just as quickly as it had left.

"you was the one swinging on my girl so wassup. keep that energy with me!"

"nigga fuck you! grown ass man arguing with women. find you something safe to do for real!!" annie said back to him, accent coming out stronger now that he had took her there.

while they were arguing, smoke turned the corner to the club on one wheel. base booming as he parked on the curb beside the building entrance. he hopped out swiftly when he caught sight of some nigga standing in his girl's face.

the man didn't get a chance to respond as smoke shoulder checked people to move through the crowd forming quickly around them.

"ima tell you one time to back up out her face." he said voice level despite how mad he was.

aneika knew this was the wrong time but seeing her man handle shit does something to her.

"or what" the man said with a fake air of confidence. smoke could see straight past the bravado he was trying to display. elijah was never one to do too much talking.

next thing annie knew, smoke's fist crashed into the dude's jaw. he didn't stop when he heard the cracking noise. eli kept punching even when the dude hit the ground. aneika's man was just like her for real.

"smoke stop and come on. before they call the police on yo crazy ass!!" she said trying to pull smoke off the man who was starting to lose consciousness. he ignored her at first. the man thought it was cool to talk to women any kind of way. especially elijah's. smoke didn't think he had learned his lesson just yet.

the man lay slumped on the concrete. blood staining his cheap white tee when eli let go finally, kicking the man one last time. he just wanted to be a lil extra. he turned around gripping annie's face in his hands.

"you good mama?" his eyes searched her face top to bottom looking for anything out of place.

she giggled still kind of adrenaline high and tipsy from all the lemon drops.

"yea i'm good. this been one crazy night man. " she laughed again.

"what you laughing for? you know damn well you not supposed to be out here fighting and shit" smoke scowled at her. he wasn't really angry at her, more so at the danger that could have took place if he hadn't showed up.

"babyyyyy. they were messing with asia and you know i was not letting that shit slide. that's my bitch. " aneika shrugged her shoulders, she didn't see anything wrong with her actions.

"if asia went to jail were you going too?" he raised an eyebrow at her.

"you don't remember freshman year of college babe? been there done that." annie looked up at him goofily.

Clouds streaked the early morning sky, creeping over the sun that peeked over the horizon. The spring air was fragrant with goldenrod and honeydew, and when the sun glared, water could be seen glistening atop blades of grass.

The pair had fallen asleep in Smoke's bed after staying up all night watching movies. They'd gone back and forth, each picking something that was significant to them, inching closer with each laugh or gasp of shock. Annie had wound up in his arms during a scary movie, and he had ended up with his head tucked into her neck while watching a romcom. It was a simple date, but it was special.

Smoke's arms surrounded Annie as she slept. He held her tight, felt for every shift of her breath and tightened his hold when she tried to move. He craved her closeness, and for the past few months—as their relationship flourished—he began to feel the absence of something that needed to be filled.

The earliest he could remember The Feeling was three months ago.

That night, he'd taken her out to some concert she'd been begging to go to, and as he watched her, the emotion budded. Her eyes were bright as she looked toward the stage. And the lights illuminated her face in a way that showed off her excitement perfectly. In that moment, his mind dipped off into thoughts that were far from chaste. He decided then that he'd do anything to make her happy enough to make that face again, to have his reaction to it be just that strong.

The Feeling persisted for weeks after that, blooming when she decided to try on a few options for a party she was going to. She couldn't decide what was best, and he was the only person available to give their opinion. Each outfit got skimpier and skimpier, and as he sat on her bed, watching her twirl for him, a pillow found its way into his lap.

He wasn't naive about his feelings, but Smoke had never actually done anything like that before. In 23 years, he'd done nothing sexual with another person; But with Annie, he was finally ready to go that far. He loved the person she was: her personality, her body, her laugh when he said something stupid about how they were both too damn nervous to give this a try when they were back in high school together. He loved her, and he could no longer resist The Feeling.

His body curled into hers, hands smoothing out his shirt that covered her back. She was beautiful like this—prettiest in the mornin'—he was known to say. Smelling the side of her neck, he jumped when she shuffled.

“Why you lookin' at me like that,” she groaned, stretching her over-exhausted body into his. Her fingers sought him out, pulling his body closer so she could bury her face in him to escape the light.

“‘Cause you sexy in the mornin’,” he drawled. His cadence was slow, the words slurring because he was both tired and turned on. Annie immediately picked up on his state.

“You betta' stop talkin' to me like that,” she chuckled, clutching onto him tighter. One eye peeked out to take a look at him, and her face flushed with heat from the intensity of his gaze. “Ion know if you ready for all this sexiness.” It came out as a joke based on conversations they'd been having for months about The Feeling and how she'd take care of him when he was ready. Recently, he'd been growing bolder. He complimented her body more—how he loved her thighs and her ass and how her titties sat just right. He allowed The Feeling to linger longer, pressing his needy body up against hers for momentary relief. They’d both been wanting it to the point where it took over their thoughts.

“I'm ready for it,” Smoke groaned, arousal strong. “I can handle all of it.”

Immediately following his declaration, his fingers began dragging along her thighs—because he knew just how to get her in a heady mood. His movements were slow and deliberate, and Annie rewarded him with soft moans before her lips met his. Plush lips against plush lips, their bodies fell into a rhythm of give and take.

They took their time, went carefully because it was still too early in the morning to do anything else. Dew still covered the edges of flowers outside, a crispness in the air that aided the moment.

Annie allowed her fingers to explore the man before her. They outlined the plains of his chest. They dipped over the curves of his abs. And when she came to the edge of his boxers, hers fingers toyed with the material, lips leaving his in time to feel the addicting tremble of his breath.

“You trust me,” she whispered into the quiet air, slow and steady. She held onto him, desperately needing the closeness because something about this was making her feel raw. He responded with a shudder, words broken with need.

“Ye-yes,” he breathed, “I'll always trust you.”

Annie, marveling at his honesty and clarity, almost allowed a moan to escape her lips. There was something about the way he'd been vulnerable about being a virgin, something about the way he trusted her to control this moment. He gave her a feeling that restored something in her, like this was her first time all over again, and in a few years, she might actually consider this It.

She rewarded the man was a kiss to the edge of his jaw, and when her hand found its way into his boxers, that same way-too-addictive shuddering breath landed on her cheek. She dragged her fingers down the length of his dick, capturing his arousal on the tip of a finger.

“I ain’t never,” Smoke choked out, groaning at the view of Annie sucking that finger into her mouth. “I ain’t ever been this turned on before.” And instead of responding with words, the woman simply hummed in acknowledgment before shifting her position on the bed. She pressed the man’s back into the mattress and settled atop his thighs. Unceremoniously, Smoke’s shirt that covered her upper body was pulled over her head, leaving her in nothing but a pair of panties, darkened where they sat against her. “Damn,” he commented, reaching out for her.

His face found comfort between her breasts with practiced ease, and Annie laughed as he held himself there and breathed in her scent.

“You always end up there,” she laughed heartily. And it was true. Whenever he’d had a hard day or a good day or a boring day, all he wanted was to lay up in her chest for comfort. Warm breath ghosted her skin.

“It’s my favorite spot,” he grumbled against her, hands somehow on her thighs again, pulling her into him.

Flushing, Annie reached down and dragged his chin up. She looked into his eyes, and when he melted at the sight of her, she dove in. When their lips met this time, it wasn’t soft and slow and careful; It was sharp and fast and greedy. Smoke’s hands found her hips, and his thumbs wedged found themselves in the groove where hip and thigh met. With ease, motion was made and pace was set. Her clothed pussy grinded against his dick, dragging up the length of him and forcing both of their bodies to shudder.

Smoke had never felt this good in his life. He’d never felt so consumed by something, and he never wanted to feel anything other than this. His palms found her ass next, taking up as much flesh as he could and keeping her hips in that tempting roll. He wanted her, craved her, but when he flipped their position and was leaned over her heaving body, he had no idea how to move forward.

“Baby,” Annie whispered, noticing the way his eyes darted away in a mix of shame and fear. He didn’t look at her straight on, and when her hand came up to his cheek, he jumped in shock. “Elijah,” she whispered to gain his full attention. “I told you I’d take care of you. I got you, and if you wanna stop, we can—”

“I don’t want to,” he nearly shouted, frightened that the very thing he wanted, craved, was beginning to slip from his grasp. Annie’s eyebrows were raised and a goofy smirk tilted her lips. “I-I don’t wanna stop,” he tried again, voice cracking. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby,” she breathed pulling him down on top of her. Naturally, her mouth found the edge of his jaw because she couldn’t get enough of that tremble when she did something that felt too good for him to contain it. “Take these off,” she whispered in his ear. Her hands pulled at his boxers—the only thing on his body—and when he moved in a rush to obey her, she removed her own panties.

Kneeling between her open legs, Smoke groaned when he saw her arousal, glistening up at him. His mouth watered. His tip flushed. She was the most beautiful sight, and he made sure she knew that. The man whispered about her beauty into her left ear, how he was addicted to her, how he’d love her the length of his life, how he felt so safe and taken care of. He made sure she knew what she did to him and just how much he needed her in his life.

When the tip of his dick nudged itself between her folds, they both needed a second to collect themselves. Their conjoined warmth and wetness was almost too much to bear, and when Smoke began moving his hips to drag himself across her clit and back down to her entrance, they both wept.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, breath growing heavier. “How you feel so good?” The words were slurred, disbelief dripping off of each syllable, and although he asked the question rhetorically, he was beginning to think maybe he did need some explanation.

“You ain’t even got the tip in yet,” Annie laughed from her chest. She threw her head back when Smoke rubbed her clit back and forth. She was wet enough that she could hear it, and with the way Smoke was looking between her legs, she could only imagine the sight he was being met with. “Make sure you go in at an angle,” she instructed, placing a pillow beneath her lower back. They both needed this to be easy and enjoyable. The longer they waited, the more their arousal clawed through them and the more they grew worried about fucking this up.

What surprised Smoke first was how he slipped inside with such ease, but what surprised him most was how he could feel every shudder, ever shift, every vibration from the inside. With nearly half of his length tucked away inside of her, Annie pulled Smoke down so that their chests were flush, so that their breaths mingled.

“Can I move,” he questioned, voice breaking as he contemplated how long he’d be able to last once she gave him the go ahead. The feeling of her surrounding him was glorious, and the normally unflappable man felt anything but calm.

“Yeah,” she permitted, eyes dazed and dripping with emotion. Annie’s jaw cranked open as she eyed the man above her. They were both perfectly ruined for each other, so gone over the feeling of their bodies becoming one.

His hips moved timidly as he got a feel for the situation. And successfully delivering the man confidence, he stroked her walls in a slow rhythm when her hands landed on his ass in encouragement. Each thrust made them quake. Each drag made them moan. Each breath passed from one to another had them ready to break apart no matter how early in was in their pursuit.

“You doin’ so good, ‘Lijah,” Annie cooed, kissing his temple. His hips sped up, and hers rose to chase him every time he dragged out to the tip.

Breathing shakily, Smoke watched as the sun fell over Annie’s face. It floated through the windows, lighting up her eyes the same way the lights did at that concert—when he first got The Feeling. He decided in that moment, as her brown eyes revealed every fleck of honey in them, that the sun rose just for this. For her.

“You perfect,” he breathed, addicted, and butterflies flooded her body.

Neither of them wanted to tap out just yet. Neither of them wanted to let go. But when Smoke would pull out to the tip, Annie would pulse around him in a way he couldn’t resist. And when he’d bottom out again, a glorious pressure would form in the base of her stomach.

They continued to meet each other in the middle, arms holding on tight, bodies ready to give up the good fight.

And when they came, it was done simultaneously. They couldn’t do anything but surrender together, to each other.

Breaths hot.

Bodies trembling.

Morning dew fading away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

word count: ~2,200

a/n: i'm still accepting requests! i have one more that i really want to get to, but i'm looking for anything interesting. smut, fluff, angst, whatever you got for me!

taglist: comment HERE to be added!

She needed this.

This moment alone after her shitty day at work. This time to herself after putting up with Smoke acting like he could run shit. This was her damn house that she took care of. Fuck it if Elijah fronted a few bills. He only did it because he was a control freak. But this was Annie’s house, her business, and she needed this.

That morning, she realized she was out of coffee creamer after the pot had already been made, and Annie needed a perfect, homemade cup of coffee with her hazelnut creamer to start her day right. Then, her pantyhose ripped on the way out the door, and she hadn’t shaved in weeks, so it was between wearing shitty ass tights to the office or hairy ass legs. Then, she remembered that she was supposed to leave early that day because she needed gas, and since Smoke had been acting like he ran her life, she decided today would be the day she wanted to be an independent woman and pump her own gas. Then, when she showed up to work, inevitably late, her boss was standing near her desk with a stack of folders that took her all damn day to sort through. There’d been no lunch. No break. No chance to call her man.

So how could anyone blame her?

She needed this, damnit.

Over the years, Annie had found that when life was doing her in, the best way to fix it was to either manifest and set some intentions or to orgasm. She’d been doing the first thing often enough, and though the latter half of her day had settled some, there was a lingering frustration that needed to be overcome.

And her man wasn’t there to fix it because he had his own life, and his own house, and his own shit to do.

Reaching over into her side table drawer, she pulled out their vibrator. It was cute and petite and an electric blue because when Smoke had chosen it out of the sea of other toys, he’d commented that it looked “tough” (He meant to say that it would look good settled between her thighs and pussy lips as he used it to tease her later that day—but he was too shy in the environment to admit it). Annie twirled it in her hand, contemplating her next move. Smoke had put rules and regulations on their vibrator like he was the damn FDA, and the most important rule was that she couldn’t use it without him.

When she’d heard it, disbelief had entered her system. Who was he to be demanding shit? Who was he to be calling shots like that? He knew how sexual Annie was and how important an orgasm and pleasure could be. But Smoke saw that electric blue vibrator as theirs. It was theirs to explore with, theirs to use together. So if he wasn’t in her home and on her bed, Annie was not to be permitted access to it.

But this was her damn house. The house she made a home. The house she would have paid every bill for if her man wasn’t such a damn control freak.

When the vibrator hit her clit, a bolt of energy ran through her. All throughout her body, her muscles tightened, and a sharp gasp parted her lips. When Smoke would use it on her, he'd start all slow and shit, dragging it through her folds on the lowest setting just to piss her off. But Annie didn't want to be teased right now. She wanted release and pleasure as quickly and as easily as possible. Knees wide open, feet pressed into the bed, and head thrown back, she felt every ounce of the day begin to wash off of her. She started to forget all about the coffee and the pantyhose and the gas and being late and her boss and all those stupid folders. The only thing she cared about was how good her body felt right now and how quickly she was about to tumble over the edge.

~~~~~

When he stepped foot into her home, nothing seemed too out of place. He placed his keys in the dish and shrugged his jacket off. He removed his shoes and set them right beside the haphazardly-placed heels she had worn to work.

Smoke hadn’t heard from his girlfriend since that morning, but if he knew anything about her, the text saying she was out of her favorite hazelnut creamer was the perfect set up for an awful day. He’d already been at work himself, so he couldn’t save her, but he made sure to buy her a fresh bottle as soon as he could. Settling the creamer in the fridge, Smoke went in search of his girlfriend. He wasn’t the type to call out for her because she was the type to only be in one of two places: the living room or the back patio. And when both of those places came up missing, his attention was sparked.

It was like his body tuned in to find her. His ears perked up at every shuffle and buzz. His feet tingled with every vibration.

“I know she better not,” the man mumbled under his breath, gritting his teeth and already in motion toward her bedroom. He kept his steps light no matter how much he wanted to stomp. He needed to see this. He needed to look upon her wrongdoing.

The closer he got to her open bedroom door, the more her sweet moans filled his ears. He could tell she was exhausted by the whine that accompanied her cries of pleasure, and even though he wanted to halt her when he saw their—his—electric blue vibrator, he refrained. Shoulder pressed into the doorframe, he analyzed the roll of her hips and how her jaw dropped open when she shifted the toy upwards. He marveled at the sheen covering her body and how she went harder than he normally would.

He could tell she was chasing it, and as much as he hated it, he knew she probably needed this. Annie was a woman of order—after his own heart. She had systems. Procedures. Those misplaced heels at the door had been one sign that she was losing it, and her work attire which was tossed in piles on the floor and across a chair was another. He hated how much he knew she needed this, but he kept quiet and sat back watching the show nonetheless.

~~~~~

Her need had turned carnal.

She craved it. That release. That pleasure. That succumbing to her own body and crumbling as the result of her own efforts.

She’d been holding the toy in place, but now she was growing more courageous. She attempted to move and her body thanked her by releasing a tremble up her spine—encouragement that allowed her the peace of mind to circle her clit. She did it quickly, completely uncaring because if she was going to have this, she wanted it now.

Nails piercing the fabric of her sheets and feet grounding her in place, Annie felt herself tipping gloriously over the edge of her desire. Her body trembled. Her thighs ached, but that meant nothing because she was getting what she deserved after a long ass day where nothing went as planned. Bright color filled her eyes and her chest practically lifted into the air as she came with the vibrator between her legs, pressed right up against her clit.

And when she turned it off and the last buzz rang out softly in the dense air, her heart sank.

She was finally able to pay attention to her surroundings again, finally about to care, and the first thing she noticed was his cologne. Strong. Teak. Spice. It was his signature scent, and Annie could pick him out in a line up of men with her eyes closed—and she realized then that her eyes were closed. She was afraid to open them, afraid of the jumpscare that would be an angry Elijah upon seeing their—his—vibrator where it didn’t belong without his permission.

But, shit, this was her house and her bed and her pussy and her bad day. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted. Yeah—so believable.

There he stood: shoulders filling out the doorframe, eyebrows set in a scowl, jaw working in an effort to calm himself down.

As scared as she was, as regretful as she was, Annie could never deny the fact that her man was sexy as fuck. He was all shoulders and unsettling disposition, and that was the biggest turn on for a bitch with a bad day. Where her body had previously calmed down from the height of her orgasm, deciding that the awfulness of today had been rid from her, she was sparked again by greed to be taken care of by her Elijah. This was her bad day, and she should be receiving treatment from all sides.

“Hey, baby,” Annie breathed, shaky and sultry at the same time. She attempted a smile and her best and brightest soft eyes, but he wasn’t giving in.

“Put it down,” Smoke huffed, stepping one foot into the room. He had to gain control quick because Annie thrived off doing the exact opposite of what she was told. Her pout grew deeper and her finger moved back toward the button on the underside of the toy. She needed it. Turning it on and yelping from the vibrations that ran through her oversensitive body, she tried again to get her way.

“But, ‘Lijah—”

“I said put it down, Annie,” he interrupted, reaching for her wrist, but contrary to the response he hoped to gain, Annie moaned. Right in front of his face like she hadn't been properly touched or taken care of in ages. And that's truly how she felt inside her body. She watched her man scrunch his face in confusion and disbelief, rubbing the vibrator against her cunt as the feeling of Smoke's heavy breath brought her to the edge again.

“You in big trouble, baby girl,” he gritted, looking down at her, lust quickly clouding his eyes. His hand reached for her waist, but he didn't make her stop.

Got 'im, Annie thought, throwing her neck back in silent, wicked laughter when he began to kiss her pulse point. Her stomach curled deliciously, and even though she'd just cum, she felt like she could go for the rest of the night.

"Just give me what the fuck I want," she grumbled in his ear. Teeth marked her skin in response, keeping the memory of him on her body, and she laughed lowly from her throat. "Come on, baby," she coaxed, hips rutting against the vibrator and his left thigh. "Take care of what's yours, Daddy." The plea left her mouth raw. Her climax was near, desire at an all-time high. It was just in her reach, and just as her pussy clenched around nothing, Elijah sharply pulled the toy away from her.

Annie trembled against the sheets, orgasm ruined in a way that left her fluttering in disappoint. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and before she knew it, her head was turning away from her man's face.

"Turn over," Smoke bellowed, wrecked in his own unique way.

"Fuck you," she croaked, too concerned with the view of him putting the toy far out of her reach. She writhed in the sheets, throwing a fit at him ruining this for her. "The fuck you even doin' over here? Don't you got a house or business to tend to or something? Always in my fuckin' face." Every word was laced with annoyance. She was pissed, angry, livid, because her bad day was just getting worse and worse. Now she was in trouble and her orgasm had been stolen and she was having a horrible day.

"I know yo' morning started off bad or whatever," Smoke deadpanned, "but you ain't finna talk to me like you ain't got no fuckin' sense. Now turn that ass over."

Huffing and groaning—like she ain't want it when she really, really did—Annie assumed the position. Smoke enunciated each word to make sure she heard him good and clear, and the woman could tell that even though punishment was coming her way, he was also working to soothe her and alleviate all pain because he understood.

"You know better, baby girl," the man roared, hand coming down to rain hits upon her ass. Gasping, she grabbed ahold of a pillow, stuffing her face in it to hide her moans. "You don't touch my shit when I ain't here," he growled. "This my pussy, and that's my damn toy. But since you had such a bad day and you obviously ain't thinking straight, I'll go easy on you."

"Please, Daddy," she moaned, pressing her ass back into his hand. One spank landed on the back of her thighs far too close to her pussy for her to hold it in any longer. She rattled off every thing she needed done to her. She needed to be put in her place, needed to be reminded that she was his, needed to remember why it was important to listen to what she was told.

~~~~~

When it came to Annie, Smoke grew soft. It was something she had teased him about early on in their relationship because no matter how much she pissed him off, he was always going to give her whatever she wanted. She commanded his attention with ease, and how can you blame him when she pled with such a pretty, whiny voice; when she batted her eyelashes and apologized for doing what she shouldn't have?

They'd end up in this position again—with her not listening and doing something she had no business doing—but for now, he was giving in, letting her have it, and showing her just the type of rough nigga he could be—because she'd asked.

Each thrust of his hips felt like an ambush, stealing her breath, looting her ability to do anything other than cry out his name. He smacked her ass with each stroke, and when she recoiled against his pelvis, he couldn't help what happened next. Leaning into her, he pressed the arch of her back further into the bed, stuffing her face into her emotional support pillow.

His thrusts sped up, and his words came out wet and reckless.

"This my shit," he slurred, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose. "This my damn pussy and you gon' listen to what the fuck I got to say."

"Y-yes, Daddy," Annie stammered, clawing herself up the bed.

"Fuck you think you goin'," Smoke questioned warningly, dragging her impossibly closer to him.

"Nowhere," she avowed. "I swear I-I ain't goin' nowhere!" The woman begged for forgiveness and appealed for mercy, but all she wanted was for him to go harder, stronger, rougher. She needed it to help her forget what had occurred up until this point. The only thing she needed to remember about today is that she had wound up with her face down and ass up with her nigga fucking her into the mattress. The more he tightened his hold on her hips, the closer she got to that glorious restructuring of her brain.

Fucked out of her mind is what Elijah called it, fucked silly and without a single care in the world.

So close.

Almost to the tipping point.

When Smoke reached over to retrieve the vibrator once more, he knew this would be the thing to successfully rid her mind of any thoughts. He pressed it into her folds, rubbed her clit, held it there until she was stuttering all the while making sure that his strokes stayed consistent and that she couldn't possibly want for more.

"Imma cum, Daddy," she thundered. Tears fell down her face, darkening the cloth of the pillow, and the man knew then that she was ready.

"Cum for me baby girl," he permitted, and as she broke apart, he held her through her fall, succumbing soon after.

~~~~~

Sheets changed, bodies clean, and clothed in soft fabric, Annie clung to Smoke's body, seeking refugee in his hardiness. He stroked up and down the length of her back, and she slipped further and further into him.

"I bought you creamer," Elijah admitted softly. His eyes that had been on the ceiling took in the woman's face. A glorious calm had settled into her features but her eyes looked appreciative because he understood. He cared.

"Thank you," she whispered, cuddling closer into his warmth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

word count: ~2,800

a/n: i hope you enjoyeddd

taglist: comment HERE to be added!

📍Emiliano Hotel Rio 📍

Smoke grabbed a water bottle and exited through the glass doors of the serene gym, taking full advantage of being the only person inside of the facility before making his way to the hotel lobby. It was almost noon and the receptionist area was its usual busy.

Filled with people checking out, some unsuccessfully trying to check in early, and the driveway near the front entrance was overloaded with Ubers and chauffeurs. A slim young woman with tanned skin and jet black hair stood proudly behind the large front desk as she held the phone to her ear. She made eye contact with him immediately and gestured for him to come near her. Her name was Alice. She’d started working at the hotel right around the same time that Elijah first became a guest. In fact, he was her very first customer on her first ever solo shift.

She ended her phone call.

“Mr. Moore, good morning and welcome back.” Her English was the best in the entire hotel.

“Mornin’.” he nodded. “Can I get more towels?”

“Of course.” She motioned towards the back office but quickly returned back to the desk. “Or do you prefer someone brings them to you?”

He shook his head. “Naw. I’ll take ‘em now.”

Alice came around the desk to give Smoke damn near all of the clean towels in the hotel. “Oh and Mr. Moore, your guest…. She- uhm. Left. We tried to get her a car but she declined.”

📍JW Marriot Rio📍

Annie attempted to sneak back into her hotel room. If she knew her girls like she thought she did, they’d either be dead asleep until late afternoon or would be out sightseeing. Or at brunch as mentioned to her last night while she laid in Elijah’s bed. There was no in between with them. Or so she thought. The heavy door creaked open to expose each of the women partially clothed as they hurriedly walked back and forth from their shared bedroom to the living area. Their perfumes filled the air as the playlist shuffled to the next song. Cardi.

Tisha was the first to notice Annie’s arrival. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat drug back in here…by her cat.” She snickered.

Before Annie even had the opportunity to respond, her cellphone vibrated in her hand back to back indicating several sporadic messages had been delivered.

She knew exactly who it was.

Back at his suite, Elijah walked into the room like a mad man on a mission, his gait wide. He had to see it for himself-that she lied to his face then left.

Her sandals were gone, the toiletries that she had used had been neatly disposed of in the nearby garbage bin, and her side of his bed was made up with the comforter in place and the pillows fluffed.

As if she hadn’t been there at all.

Elijah: Tell your uber driver to bring you back here to me now.

Elijah: Annie

Elijah: Ya mouth don’t work? If you wanted to leave me I coulda had you brought back myself safe and sound

Annie: I ain’t your child Elijah.

Elijah: You acting like one rn

Annie briefly glossed over his messages before sending a two worded reply.

And even though they barely knew one another outside of the sounds of each other cumming, she knew for sure this would drive him crazy, just as he was driving her crazy right now.

Her stomach nosily gurgled and flipped for the fourth time in an hour accompanied by a bit of nausea. Surely Elijah’s tantrum wasn’t helping one bit.

Annie: I’m busy.

That was it. No emoji. No nothing.

He was doing too much and her annoyance with him threatened to form again. All she wanted was a warm shower and the bed in her room that she barely had the chance to sleep in since her arrival into the country. Tisha and Kym followed Annie into the bedroom in a single file line before plopping themselves onto the wrinkled bed while Annie made her way to the bathroom to turn on the shower.

This bathroom certainly wasn’t anything like the one she was in last night.

“Soooo. How was it?!” They asked impatiently.

She refused to meet their eyes. “It was good.”

Kym sat on the edge of the bed, practically salivating for a crumb of information.

“Good like you need dat’ again or good as in you woulda rather stay here with us?”

Annie slowly padded over to her suitcase to retrieve a new pair of panties and a bed shirt.

Tisha intercepted. “You see that walk? It was good.”

All the of the women laughed and Annie? She didn’t deny it. She hadn’t noticed that she was walking around like a newborn baby giraffe.

The two girls extracted themselves from the bed and made their way to the dining area of the connecting rooms.

“We gone need more details lata’ but we goin’ to get some lunch and to see the statue right now. You comin’?”

Annie declined because the toilet was calling her. “No, thank ya. Not right now.”

She must’ve ate something bad last night and now she was paying for it.

She silently flipped through the tv channels and scrolled her ipad as she tried to get comfortable in the bed. She tried to lay on her side, her back, and then her stomach to no avail.

As a last resort, she sat up with her back against the headboard.

The women on the tv screen giggled in between Portuguese words as they applied makeup to the model’s face.

Both her iphone and ipad rang at the same time indicating another call from Elijah, which Annie declined again but instead opted to reply with a text instead.

Annie: Elijah please. Not right now. I don’t feel well. 🤢

He was standing at the bathroom sink, freshly showered when her response came through. The man’s features softened at that declaration. He wanted nothing more than to hear her voice right now.

Smoke: What you need?

Annie: Sleep…

Smoke: You need me?

He was hoping she’d say yes. He needed her to.

Annie: Yeah.

She dropped her location without any hesitation this time, fully ready for whatever version of Elijah that she’d get this time.

Smoke: Omw

Annie read the message and turned over, hoping to get a quick nap in before his arrival but her stomach had other plans. She barely made it to the toilet this time. Vomit covering the bathroom floor.

To make matters worse, her mom was calling for their evening check in.

Annie knew the woman just as well as she knew Annie. If the phone wasn’t picked up soon, it wouldn’t end well.

With vomit still on her chin, she walked over to the bedroom to text Ms. Josephine that she’d call her back later, providing no further explanation.

Smoke’s phone number appeared on the screen shortly after.

“Yeah?” She sounded groggy and Elijah noticed it immediately. He looked around the dated lobby as if Annie would materialize right in front of him.

“What’s your room number, mama?”

She needed yet another shower.

“712. The door is unlocked. I needa bath.” She hung up the call before he could say anything further.

Unbeknownst to Annie, Smoke had been keeping score. Every lie, every declined call, every time she tried to run and every smart remark. And he had every intent to make her answer for it but today wouldn’t be that day.

He walked into the suite with his hands filled with a ginger ale and a box of Plasil, Brazil’s version of Pepto, and followed the sounds of the shower.

—————————————————————————

Annie lay across the man’s chest with her hand over his heartbeat as she went in and out of consciousness with Smoke almost following in her steps… Until her phone rang again. It was her mother…again.

“Just give it hea’.” Her voice laced with sleep and safety. He handed her the phone.

She asked how Annie and the girls were and reminded her daughter to drink a glass of flour water for her upset stomach as Smoke trailed his hands up and down her back. “Mama, I have to go.”

The woman loosened the reigns for a bit.

“Alright. You be careful out there. Yo’ auntie gone go and check on your house a lil’ later. Where your spare key at?”

Annie cleared her throat. “The spare key is in the mailbox or on top of the door. I don’t really remember right now.”

They said their I love yous and ended the call.

“You shouldn’t leave yo’ spare keys out like that. It’s dangerous.” Elijah said into the darkness of the cold hotel room.

She rolled her eyes before getting impossibly closer to him in which he happily obliged and made more room for her. “Not right now.” She whispered then her light snoring resumed.

————————————————————————-

The morning of their departure was supposed to be smooth. They woke up at 3am to head to nearby Ipanema Beach to watch the sun rise over Rio and had a breakfast picnic in the sand before returning back to the room.

All three women were packed and ready to go home but they were left confused when an error message appeared on the screen of Annie’s iPad when she tried to check them in for their upcoming flight.

Check in must be completed at the airport. Strange. They had no problems checking in on the way here.

A few short knocks strummed against the wooden door. Once receiving permission to enter, two of the bellboys began loading up their luggage.

Annie was doing one more quick sweep of their bedrooms to ensure nothing was forgotten when Tisha came in with Annie’s phone in hand. “Here. It was ringing.”

Three missed calls from Elijah.

She made a mental note to call him back later from the airport once she got settled.

Kym and Tisha headed to the front desk to close out their final bill while Annie walked out with the bellboys and over to the awaiting Mercedes Van that Smoke booked for them.

Inside, they were welcomed with premium bottled waters, champagne, and Brazilian chips. The van was stocked to feed a family of four for days even though the ride to Riogaleão International Airport was a little over thirty minutes.

“I ain’t even gon’ hold ya’ll. It’s been fun but I miss my own bed.” Kym blurted out as she looked out of the window to observe the other cars passing by in traffic. The other two ladies nodded in agreement.

At the airport, the check in lines were long.

Long enough that each woman took a turn being a placeholder in line until they got close enough to the desk.

This is what they hoped to avoid and why they wanted to check in online.

Plus, they weren’t looking forward to the nine hour trek back to Atlanta and then the two hour flight back home to New Orleans in those small ass seats that didn’t feel very “premium economy.”

Annie specifically wasn’t ready because she still wasn’t over her bout of food poisoning.

“Next.” The young man at the desk called out, first in Portuguese and then in English.

Annie approached the counter while the other two ladies stayed behind.

She pulled out her phone and opened up the translation app to speak directly into the mic. “Hello. Good afternoon. Can we have your help checking in?” She handed her phone to him and through the reflection of his glasses, she saw him reading each word.

The agent smiled as he handed her three boarding passes. He took a blue ink pen from his jacket pocket and circled all three seat assignments.

2A, 2C, and 2D. Right next to the listed seat assignments, the class of service also read “Business.”

Annie shook her head in disbelief and tried to tell the man it was a mistake.

An older woman with jet black hair and glossy lips appeared. Her uniform was slightly different than the others around her indicating that she was either from a different department or that she was a manager of some sort.

“Hello, Miss.” Her English was perfect.

She continued. “These are your new seats. Please enjoy your flight.” The manager motioned towards the exit of the line as the other workers began grabbing all of the women’s luggage to tag them before dropping them onto the carousel.

“But we didn’t pay for these seats.”

“Someone did. You were upgraded last night.” She showed the purchase receipt to Annie. $1800 per ticket to upgrade. That’s when it clicked. Elijah.

How?

Kym and Tisha looked over in confusion at what was taking so long. At the very least, they were hoping their flight home wasn’t canceled but they had no idea it’d be this instead.

First Class looked great on the women, with Annie taking the window seat for a bit more privacy and the others grabbing the duo seats in the middle.

As if he’d known exactly when her ass would touch the seat, Smoke called her again but this time she picked up. But he had known when she and the girls would arrive to the airport because he still had her location for now.

“Thank you.” She whispered softly as the flight attendant handed her a warm towel.

She heard the tv in the background mixed in with the sounds of his grunts.

He was working out again. “You’re welcome.” He eased the dumbbells to his side to pause for a sip of water. “How you feelin’?”

“I’ma be okay.” Annie hummed. “How are you?” She shot the question back to him.

“Good. Now that you answered my call.”

The woman sighed. “Don’t do that. Like I don’t answer for you.”

“You don’t.” He confirmed and left no room for her rebuttal.

Annie reached over to plug her phone charger into the port and then bent down to look inside of her duffle bag for a snack. She found a pack of crackers. “So what happens now?”

This is the part she needed to know.

“We continue doing what we do. That’s all there is to it.” He stated plainly.

The American basketball game he had playing on his other phone temporarily grabbed his attention.

“Elijah, you live in another state.”

She heard the gym weights slam down harder than he intended, his frustration bubbling to the surface.

She was running from him again. “The fuck that mean?”

“It means…” She repeated mockingly.

“You far away.”

He resumed his workout while he kept her on speakerphone. “I ain’t that far away.”

If only she knew.

“Ladies and gentlemen. The boarding door is now closed. We will begin takeoff shortly.” The flight attendant announced as the safety video began playing on every screen and the seatbelt sign turned on.

The woman shook her head in uncertainty. Over the last couple of days of getting to know him, she observed that Smoke seemed to be sure about a lot of things and though she didn’t doubt his ability, she didn’t understand how they would make things work almost three hours apart from each other.

“ ‘Lijah, I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

Tisha waited until the coast was clear. “Girrrlll. He on ya’ bad. Straight pressure. What you gone do?”

“Ion know, Tish. He live in Mississippi. I work a lot and it look like he work a lot, too.” She sighed. “He prolly ain’t lookin’ for nothin’ serious. You know like I know niggas sell dreams on vacation.”

“Annie, nobody sayin’ ya’ll gotta get married tomorrow but Jackson is only two and a half hours away. And yes, these niggas sell dreams but just think about it.”

And that she did. The entire length of the flight.

——————————————————————————

It’s been two weeks since Brazil, three days since the last time she’d picked up one of Smoke’s calls, even though he’d called her just this morning and twelve hours since she stopped sharing her location with him. Now, she sat alone in her empty classroom on her iPad as she scrolled mindlessly. Two gentle knocks appeared on her classroom door. “Come in.” She continued to scroll at her decorated desk. The slim man waltzed into the room as his locs bounced with every step taken.

In walks in Quincy or “Coach Q” as he is more affectionately known amongst their mutual young students. Quincy was thirty one years old from Houston, slim build, dark skin with mid back length locs and the prettiest white teeth. He possessed a soft spot for Annie and everyone knew it… except her.

“You hidin’ in here? They got pizza in the break-room ‘taday.” He grinned down at her under low lashes. She was still occupied so her doe eyes remained on the screen before her. The man tried a different angle. “Hey, my mama tried your praline candy recipe and I need your approval.” That grabbed her attention. “It’s called Pecan Candy, Q.”

A small dry giggle that held no weight escaped her. “Only white folk say praline candy.”

Quincy threw both hands up in a mock surrender. “Ok ok. Pecan candy but I can’t say it in your accent tho.” He continued.

“Maybe I can bring you some.” He let the words linger in the air between them for a bit.

Quincy and Annie were friendly. Friendly and acquainted enough to where she’d be comfortable with him in many settings.

She locked her iPad and proceeded to stand up. Student lunch would be ending soon and she had to go and get her kids.

“I guess you can bring me a few pieces to try when she make ‘em. I’ma send you my address.”

Quincy stepped out of her pathway to grant her more space which allowed her to walk in front of him as he watched her ass move.

“I look forward to it.”

📍Smoke & Go Shell Gas Station 📍

Elijah sat in the luxurious black office chair as he counted the day’s deposit. This was his last stop before driving back to Jackson through the pouring rain tonight. The door chime sounded off as a group of customers walked in one by one. He studied them on the office camera while also watching his employee,

JJ, greet the young family who had an antsy in toddler in tow. Smoke picked up his cracked iPhone to check for one thing and one thing only. Still nothing from her.

Only one text message from Nia whose number was saved as “❌🙅🏽‍♂️” because she couldn’t leave well enough alone. Too messy for his liking. Sloppy.

Elias also texted him asking his whereabouts as if the duo didn’t share locations. After loading up the safe, Smoke looked up to find JJ laughing with more patrons as if he’d known the other younger men for years. He probably did. He knew everyone. A thought crossed his mind.

The chair spun around on his departure. “Jay, lemme talk with ya for a minute.”

The employee walked over to Smoke with a small smirk, ready for any and everything. The two men huddled into the office while keeping a watchful eye on the camera and front doors of the store.

Smoke sat back in his chair attempting to remain uneven. “You know the Celestine family?”

Elijah never spoke about anything other than business. Ever. So JJ’s interest was immediately piqued. He nodded with a familiarity as he scratched his chin.

“Yeahhhh, I know ‘dem but it’s two of ‘em. Celestines from uptown and the others over in Marrero. Who ya lookin’ fa?”

Smoke had already said too much, at least by his standards but the hardheaded woman left him no choice. Just as he pulled his phone back out to show JJ a photo of Annie, his twin brother walked in.

“Fuck ya’ll doin’ in here? Ain’t no one out front?” The admonishment came out harsher than intended and both of the men ignored him.

Smoke reluctantly showed the young employee a photo of Annie that he had sneakily taken of her on the balcony in Brazil. She was beautiful.

Her curls tied up in a white headwrap, large gold hoops, and a matching white maxi dress as she stood comfortably in Smoke’s presence. No one would be able to tell that food poisoning was whooping her ass then. JJ immediately grabbed the phone from Smoke’s large hands “Aw shiiit.” He whistled. “That’s Annie!”

Elijah’s brow furrowed in response but no words left his mouth. “I used to deal with ha friend’s lil sister back in the day. Hold on.” The man whipped out his dark blue iphone and pulled up someone’s instagram. Smoke recognized Kym, Annie’s best friend, immediately. Even saw that her most recent pinned phots were of the ladies on the beach in Brazil. JJ scrolled for a minute before smiling like a Cheshire Cat. He handed his phone to Elijah and right there on it was a post of Annie with a tagged location. The photo was taken last May when she won Teacher of The Year.

Kym’s instagram post read:

Congrats to my bestie @annecelesti3 on ur well deserved accomplishment! 🎈

📍Langston hughes Academy📍

“Ion know where she live, though.” The young man continued. This was all Elijah had needed, he would manage the rest.

“This stay in this office.” Smoke glared at the younger man.

The heavy raindrops bounced off of the windshield glass of the Denali truck. Elias’ car was in the back of him as they both headed to merge onto the highway. With a resounding sigh, he attempted to call Annie again but she didn’t pick up.

Instead, she texted.

Annie: Making me some supper. Long day. I’ll call you tomorrow.

That was it.

The large highlighted green interstate sign advised that the next exit is one mile away. With that in mind, Elijah texted the younger twin.

Elijah: Staying put for a lil’ bit. Four Seasons.Be careful.

The vehicle bounced a few times over the rugged roads and a deep pothole right before Elijah took the next exit to make a u-turn.

Elias: You too. Be back this way tomorrow

Smoke sighed as he entered his hotel suite. The days are longer when you’re the boss and every decision is yours to make. Today was one of those days where he wanted nothing more than to have Annie’s thick legs wrapped around him as he shifted her guts around. But he’d have her soon enough.

The Next Afternoon

1:42pm

Elijah sat in the driver seat of his car in the semi full school parking lot, watching the cartoonishly yellow school buses line up one by one in a procession. He parked near the side doors where he saw other staff and faculty exiting, providing him a great vantage point. Twenty minutes later, little students began walking out of the doors wearing book-bags bigger than their entire bodies. Some were walking with parents and some were being escorted by teachers and crossing guards. Inside of the quiet car, Smoke lit up a blunt with a shaky hand.

“Annie!” Someone yelled her name.

There she was. She was wearing a wide legged cheetah printed romper with a jean jacket and brown sandals. Her braids in a low bun. She looked beautiful. He tracked her as she chatted and hugged two women that he didn’t recognize.

A little girl accompanied one of the women and Elijah noticed the way her eyes never left Annie. Smoke couldn’t blame her. Jazmine had just told Annie that she was pregnant again and that Jordyn was going to be a big sister.

“Congratulations to both of ya’ll.” The high school friends hugged as Jordyn joined in. Her little patch of grey hair shining under the warm sun. After one final goodbye, the group separated with Annie making her way to her SUV and Elijah trailing her.

The tires of her SUV squeaked as they came to a sudden stop at the busy intersection. Smoke was right behind her in his car hidden behind tinted windows. He made one more attempt to call her again and this time she answered.

She was tired and he could tell by the raspiness in her voice, just like in Brazil. “Hey.”

“How you be?” Smoke inquired nonchalantly as if he wasn’t mere feet away from her car.

Annie sighed as she turned on to her street. “Tired. Long day but it’s almost Spring Break fa’ us.”

Elijah turned his vehicle with her. “When can I see you?”

She threw her car into park when she reached her driveway but Smoke kept on driving. “Soon, Elijah.”

They said their goodbyes with Annie promising to call him back tonight after she showered, but she didn’t.

The Next Night.

📍Saint Anthony St. Annie’s home.📍

The blue colored single family home sat perched at the culdesac. Her home fit her. The warm steering wheel vibrated under the man’s large hands as the sound of an incoming text buzzed through the car’s speakers.

“Yeah?” He grunted.

The younger similar voice questioned.

“You over at her house?” Silence filled the truck while his eyes remained fixated on her front porch.

Stack chuckled humoursly. “I know what that mean.” The younger twin continued on. “Fuck you gon’ do if she in there laid up with another nigga? Hm? Yo’ swole ass head think of that shit?”

For once in his life, Elias tried to be the reasonable one out of the duo but he knew Elijah. When he got like this, talking was useless but he still tried. “Nigga, you hear the words coming out of ya mouth to me? And you out there solo?”

“I’ll be aight.” Smoke ended the call.

The small porch steps whined under Elijah’s weight. It’d been hot all day and even hotter tonight. He surveilled the surroundings, specifically watching as a red Dodge Challenger inched down the quiet street. Soon enough, the car’s taillights blurred in the distance and in return, Smoke released some of the tension in his shoulders.His mind quickly flashed back to Brazil and one of the calls that Annie had taken.

“The spare key is on top of my door.” She’d instructed her mom three weeks ago as she lay next to Smoke.

Thick fingertips grazed along the colorful doorframe until he touched his target. The Louisiana heat had metal key hot to the touch before it clattered against the concrete with Smoke wasting no time picking it up. His head shook in slight annoyance because he’d told her this was unsafe, filing this away for later for the many things they’d have to discuss.

The heavy wooded front door creaked open to reveal the woman’s home. It was everything he’d pictured.

A small altar overflowing with candles, a dark brown couch with a leopard printed fleece blanket thrown across the armrest, and a couple of pairs of shoes he recalled her wearing at his hotel.

He moved through the home easily as if he’d been there before, as if he’d been invited in. As if he was just a man looking for his woman after a hard day of work. Annie’s bedroom ceiling fan powered on when Elijah flicked the switch. Her scent from hours ago lingered in the air just as it did back in Brazil and Smoke relaxed in the familiarity of it all. Currently, his attention was drawn to the overstuffed but neat, laundry hamper in the corner of her bedroom. In one fluid motion, the woman’s two day old unwashed black laced panties rested in his pocket next to his car keys.

The legs of the kitchen chair scratched against the surface of the wood flooring as Elijah took a seat. He sat patiently because he truly did have all night. And Annie? She had no idea who or what had followed her back home yet.

The March humid air felt heavier than normal once Annie exited her black Hyuandai Palisade. Slowly, she grabbed her lunch bag, her black Stanley Cup, and her large tote to head towards her front door to unlock it. Only three days. Three more days until they’d be out for Spring Break and she’d be back to lounging around her home in a moomoo with no panties. She was looking forward-

She noticed his scent first. Mahogany and amber. It invaded her space, her home unapologetically. But still… she leaned into it as if it were second nature.

Her thighs involuntarily clenching together. The woman stood frozen in her own doorway with her mind refusing to believe what her body had already confirmed.

“Elijah?” It was said in an almost whisper. Deep down, she had only hoped that her exhaustion was causing her to have an hallucination of some sort but that was hope was quickly killed once she heard movement coming from her kitchen.

Elijah neatly pushed the chair back into its place and responded on his walk out of the kitchen to her. “Yeah?” Within a few short glides, he stood in front of her and Annie just about threw everything to her floor. The man grabbed all of her things and walked over to the couch to sit the items down. She remained in place as if she was imagining all of this but deep down?

She wasn’t that shocked.

But after the week she had at work? She didn’t have that much more fight left in her at the moment. And Elijah had shown that he didn’t care how many times she ran, he’d be right behind her. Literally.

But still… she couldn’t give up that easy, no matter how much she wanted him to fuck her stress away right now.

“What you doin’ here at my house, Smoke?” she hissed, trying to retain some level of control.

Elijah continued on as if Annie had asked him what he ate for lunch. “You here, that’s why I’m here.”

“You can’t be here right now.” She walked further into her home and past Elijah.

“Why not?” He mirrored her movements to the nearby kitchen.

Annie tried to reason but the man didn’t want to hear one bit. Needing to keep busy, she tried to distract herself by digging inside of her stainless steel refrigerator for the defrosted chicken breasts that she put there this morning.

“Because. This too much! We don’t kno’ each other, Elijah.” The refrigerator door slammed shut as she made her way to the kitchen island to grab the decorative cutting board.

Her plump body stood flat against the hard surface while she washed the chicken. Elijah walked over to her and pressed his hardened body flush against her ass. “I know ya’ enough. We would know each other betta’ if you quit running from me.” He whispered into her warm, scented neck as he placed a few damp kisses.

“Eli-“ Her hands slowed down on the seasoning of the meat while she pressed her ass into his lap.

“Mm hmm.” Smoke hummed before wrapping his arm around the lower half of her body. But their moment in the kitchen was interrupted by a knock at Annie’s front door. The woman immediately pulled herself from Smoke’s grip and instructed him to stay in the kitchen because she’d be right back but just like everything else with Smoke, she knew she was wasting her breath. At least she tried and she had to, because she knew exactly who was at the door right now. Quincy. And even though she only knew Elijah for less than thirty days, she knew this wouldn’t go over well. She was right. As she moved through her home, Smoke was right on her heels to the point that she could feel his warm cinnamony breath on the back of her neck under her braids.

Annie swung the heavy door open to find a smiling Quincy on her steps, holding a large Tupperware container of hardened candies. Elijah positioned himself on the side of the doorway and out of view. For now.

“Hey. I bought these over for you. Lemme know what you think.” When Annie reached for the container, Smoke made himself known, startling the football coach who tried to remain neutral though his face said otherwise. He said nothing as he stood at Annie’s left side with his eyes never leaving the stranger on the porch.

The tension was heavy and Annie tried her best to mediate while she watched the two men stare each other down.

Elijah’s hand snaked around her plump waist and tightened once she had the plastic bowl in her hands.

“Thank you. Q. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.” She nodded a goodbye and watched as the man smiled and turned away to walk back to his car. He glanced back at Smoke one more time, only once he was further away.

Elijah grabbed the candy from her hands and chucked the container into the nearby grass.

“Are you fuckin’ for real right now, Elijah?” Annie smacked him in the middle of his chest but her assault didn’t shake the man one bit. He simply looked down at Annie’s tight face and grimaced in annoyance.

Certainly, she was pissed but so was he.

His broad arms were folded across his chest. “How come this nigga know where you live? Huh? But you made me hunt you down?” Smoke huffed.

Annie stared at him incredulously.

“We been workin’ togetha’ for years. He’s my co-worker, Elijah. I don’t even know you!” She exasperated but continued.

“Matter of fact, get out.” She hissed and bumped into him on her way back to the kitchen.

Elijah slammed the front door shut. “No.”

And followed her to the next room.

Annie made a u-turn heading back to the front door to grab her car keys.

Smoke stared at her, his eyes wild and his jaw clenched.

“Fine. I’ma leave.” She hit her car alarm twice to unlock her driver side door.

“Annie.” He said evenly. “Unlock this door.”

She quickly backed out of the driveway and took off but Smoke was right behind her. Her week had been long and the day had been even longer. She was overwhelmed. The gas icon on her car’s dashboard lit up to provide a warning.

7 miles Until Empty. Please refuel. Shit.

She looked into her rearview mirror to find Smoke still trailing behind her. When she turned at a red light, so did he. When she made a U-turn, he did too. The woman sighed. Bright lights at the nearby intersection appeared in the reflection of her windshield. It was a Shell gas station about nine minutes away in the opposite direction of her home. She’d never been to this location before because she typically filled up at Chevron. Within seconds, she pulled up to the closest gas pump and stepped out of the car, expecting Elijah to show up shortly.

He did. The man eyed her from head to toe but remained silent. So did she. They sized each other up, both holding on to their last bit of pride.

Annie pulled her debit card out to tap it against the payment processor but Elijah motioned to grab it. This was the second time in an hour that he snatched something from her hands. His thumb brushed against hers when she tried to tug the Visa card back.

Once she concluded that Elijah wasn’t going to let go, she reached into the side door of her car for her blade. She was quick with it. A gash appeared on Smoke’s hand forcing the familiar red liquid substance to pool.

His brows furrowed in disbelief but he was impressed. “Woman!”

He stared down at his hand as Annie looked at the wound with him.

Though she felt bad and had second thoughts, she had to keep a brave face because he needed this lesson. He earned it. Seeing her be unapologetic turned Smoke up. In an instant, his eyes darkened. “Get in my car.” He growled.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere wit’ you, Lijah.” She motioned to turn her back to him when a large hand tightly gripped her upper arm and began to drag her out of her shoes.

She pinched and grabbed at his fresh injury but Smoke remained locked in.“Elijah! Let me go right now!” They made it to the door of his car.

“You gon’ have to do worse than this to me, baby. I done been in wars.” He whispered near her ear. Annie would be lying to herself if she denied the heat forming in between her thighs.

“Go on. Get in.” His car door was wide open for her entry but she hesitated.

Elijah cocked his head to the side. “You want me to put you in?”

Annie shot him a mock glare. “And what’s gon’ happen to my car?” She questioned.

He smiled as if he’d been waiting for this question and truth is? He had been.

He’d told her over and over that he was much closer to her than she thought but neither of them had known one of his properties would end up less than ten minutes from her home.

“Me and my brother own this station, baby. And a few mo’. Your car gone be safe here.”

Annie looked at him as the pieces began to connect but she still needed that last bit of confirmation. Without her having to ask and to prove his point even further, Smoke used his injured hand to take out his phone and dial the store’s phone number.

JJ answered. “Shell Gas Station.”

“It’s me. Keep your eyes on that black SUV at the pump. Make sure nobody touch it or get near it.” Smoke commanded into the phone.

“You got it.” The young man replied without any further questions before hanging up. Though she kept her chin up in an attempt to remain in control, the woman was dumbfounded.

All of this time, he had been closer than Jackson, he’d found out where her home was located, and now by definition he was holding her hostage.

“What you want wit’ me, Elijah?” Her doe eyes sparkled under the gas station lights.

The man’s eyes softened as he sensed her surrender. “You. I told ya that, woman.” He said quietly.

——————————————————————

The other line rang a few times before a young peppy woman picked up.

“Four Seasons New Orleans Concierge Desk. How may I be of service?”

Elijah adjusted himself in the driver’s seat as he pushed the button on the steering wheel to increase the call volume. They were exiting the parking lot of a Walgreens that Annie forced him to stop at so that she could bandage his hand.

“Evenin’.” He glanced over at the woman who was seemingly asleep now. He didn’t miss how her partially exposed thick thighs rested against the seat of his truck. His grip on the wheel tightened.

“Room 1124. Me and my wife are on the way back and we both had a long day tod-"

Annie grumbled an interruption, her exhausted body twisting and turning in the large passenger seat.

She bit out forcefully. “I ain’t yours.”

Smoke continued the phone conversation as if the mere concept of Annie not being his was foreign.

“Please bring up a few extra towels for her bath. I need it done in thirty minutes. Make that fifteen.” Though the man said his formalities and expressed manners, it wasn’t a request and the employee knew it. “I’ll take care of it, Mr. Moore.”

The music resumed after the call dropped as the SUV glided down the highway. He had no regrets. Couldn’t even pretend that he did. He looked over at her again.

“You hungry?”

Her eyes narrowed at the silly question. “I’m just tied’. Some of us had to work today instead of playin’ detective all ova’ the town, Lijah.”

Another smart remark noted.

——————————————————————

The bathroom was warm and steamy as Annie stared at herself in the large mirror. She was freshly showered and stood naked at the bathroom sink, with all of her toiletries laid out for her.

These were brand new, fresh out of the packages. Coconut oil to remove any makeup. A tube of organic fluoride free toothpaste with a separate tube of whitening toothpaste. Dove gentle skin bar soap to cleanse her face and a container of shea butter from a local vendor, though it wasn’t from her exact vendor but everything else had been.

Elijah clearly paid attention back in Brazil and he clearly had every intention of bringing Annie back here tonight. He was arrogant. As if he felt the woman thinking about him, a shirtless Smoke walked into the bathroom without any announcement and immediately stood behind the woman, placing his chin on her shoulder. Annie sighed into him and Smoke took that as all the permission needed.

His lips dropped near her ear. “Spread ya legs.” He hummed.

She was flustered. “Eli-“

He shushed her. “I ain’t forget about that shit in Brazil. You was ‘sposed to stay put but you lied ta’ me.” His large hand palmed her fat mound as she whined and hissed in response. Annie was supposed to be upset with him and she had a right to be but she needed this release.

His thick digits flicked at her sensitive swollen clit while her slick began coating his index finger. He stared at her relaxed face in the mirror as he continued his ministrations. A sigh escaped him but it wasn’t done in contentment. It was a restrained hunger. He had her right where he wanted after weeks of chasing her from Brazil to Louisiana. He plunged a finger inside of her warm hole coaxing a gasp and moan from her. Satisfied with the squelching sounds that her wet pussy was echoing throughout the large bathroom, he withdrew his fingers to taste her. In one fluid motion, he dragged her right leg up and placed it on top of the counter, knocking down both his and her toiletries.

She was open and spread wide for him just as he wanted. Her hands came up to grab the back of his head to bring him closer. When their eyes met in the mirror, she remembered the reprimand that he gave her in Brazil. Move that hand.

When he got like this, she was learning that it was best that she simply stay still. Annie quickly moved her hand from his head and opted to grip the countertop instead. They sighed in unison as he slowly inched his way in and quickly became sheathed in her essence.

Her grip on the counter tightened as she held her head to one side, exposing her neck. “Mmmm. Fuck.”

He bent down to press a few more kisses into her neck while he stroked up into her and awaited more of her gasps and cries. Once she gave him what he wanted, he brought his warm hand under her chin to force her to look into the mirror, deepening her arch. She could smell herself on his fingers. He held her in place and switched his pace to quicker strokes, her titties bouncing with each move. Smoke slapped her hand away when she attempted to reach for her sensitive peaks.

“Don’t touch nothin’. It ain’t yours no mo’.”

Her leg began to slide off of the counter. “Elijahhhh.”

He said nothing as he continued to dig her out bit by bit. Sweat beads formed on the sides of his forehead, the heated bathroom reminding them of Annie’s recent shower.

He panted. “Look at ya’self in this mirror.”

His hand retuned to her chin and the new grip he had on her this time was almost painful.

“I can’t!” She mewled.

“You can. You just don’t want to.” His eyebrow raised. Shortly after, their eyes met in the mirror and Smoke made sure that Annie saw everything that he was doing to her right now.

His pace was turning sloppy.

“Look in the mirror and tell me you stayin’ this time.” It was a demand that borderlined a plea.

Annie was close but he was closer but he needed her to finish first and he knew exactly how to get her there.

His thumb pressed her swollen nub as he held it there with pressure. “Go on. Tell me.”

“I’m stayin where you want me.” She sobbed through gritted teeth. Her warm release flooded them both as Smoke tried to soothe her cries through kisses.

But he gave her no time to come down because he followed suit shortly after. “Good.” The pulsing of his dick pulled one more nut from Annie.

———————————————————————

The Next Morning. 9:32am.

The couple moved through Annie’s home as she packed a suitcase for the next few days to spend at Smoke’s home in Jackson. She looked beautiful today as she always did but there was a glow.

He took a seat on the couch to observe her, his arm casually extended over the back of the sofa as if he’d been paying bills there.

Her duffle bag sat on the floor near the door. “I would give you a tour of my house but I’m sure you’ve seen it all already.” Her Southern lilt playing peekaboo in between words.

Elijah huffed out a laugh that had no humor in it. “I did.”

Annie rolled her eyes before making her way to the fridge to grab them a couple of bottled waters for the road.

The ride to Jackson went by quicker than she’d imagined. She and Elijah left no room for silence as they discussed everything under the sun while they enjoyed the scenic route. The initial plan was to stop and get food then head to Smoke’s home, but a quick call changed that.

“That was my mama.” He announced.

“She wan’ me to stop by today.” He looked over at Annie who was still looking out of the window. “You comin’ wit’ me.” There was no question and no room for debate but the woman still tried.

“It’s too soon for that. It ain’t a good idea.”

Elijah silently looked over at her in finality.

Smoke pulled into the circular driveway of the single story brick home and parked right behind one of Stack’s SUVs. He was in the Escalade today so that meant one thing. E.J. was there.

The baby boy was fourteen months old now and getting into everything, including attempts at walking. The front double doors of the home opened up to welcome the new couple.

In the entryway stood Ms. Earlene, Smoke and Stack’s mother.

She was beautiful. Copper brown skin with a head full of grey hair that she usually kept in a single braid. She wore a peach colored two piece capri set, with a plain white t-shirt under it and diabetic approved sneakers. She gave a smile in Annie’s direction which the young woman promptly returned. Smoke exited the vehicle first leaving behind the continuous ding of the open door car alarm. The visit was supposed to be quick because he just needed to give his mom money to pay her landscaping company. Smoke was only a few itches away from his mom when she began to question him.

“Who’s that in your truck, Elijah?” She brought him in for a kiss to his cheek.

Smoke kissed her back. “Her name Annie.”

A small smile played on her full lips.

“Tell her to get down and come here, please.” Elijah knew his mom and he knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

He walked back to the truck and opened Annie’s door. “Come meet my ma real quick then we can head out.”

She stuttered. “No, I-“

He grabbed her hand and guided her down from the vehicle. “Ya look beautiful. Come on.”

They made their way into the kitchen of the home where Ms. Earlene sat at the massive table with EJ on her lap. Stack was nowhere to be found except on family photos that adorned the walls of the large home. Based on the front yard of her home alone, one could simply tell that Ms. Earlene was well taken care of by both of her sons.

“Have a seat, baby.” She patted the chair next to her. Annie did as she was told.

“You a pretty lil’ chocolate thing.” She beamed. Annie looked over to find Smoke who somehow had made his way back outside to talk to the landscaping company, leaving her alone with his mother who she wasn’t supposed to be meeting yet in the first place. Asshole.

“I’m Annie.” She extended her hand out for a handshake but the elderly woman instead reached over to pull her in for a hug as the toddler that she will still holding pressed his small knee into Annie’s stomach. “I’m Earline… or you can call me mom, too.”

Annie’s eyes widened as she smiled uncomfortably. Earline sensed her uneasiness and sent a soothing smile her way. “I’m just messin’ with you, baby.”

The two ladies spent the next fifteen minutes talking about life, their careers, and families. Ms. Earline mentioned that her grandmother was from Lake Charles, a smaller town in Louisiana about four hours west of Annie’s home. The woman also shared that her sister, Smoke and Stack’s aunt, was a teacher for thirty four years up until she passed away from brain cancer.

Annie noticed that the one person that was never mentioned was the twins’ father.

Elias called to check in on his mom and EJ to ask what they want for lunch. Though she couldn’t see the man’s face, she listened to his voice on speakerphone. She’d easily be able to tell him and Elijah apart. Where Stack was fast and controlled the conversation, Smoke was slow and moved on his own time. She also noticed way back in Brazil that he let others speak and only added in something when necessary, never just for small talk. Except with her. Smoke was gone for twenty minutes but the women barely noticed and certainly didn’t hear his re-entry at first.

He appeared at Annie’s side to help pull her chair from the table. “You ready?”

The three of them plus EJ stood on the porch as they said their goodbyes.

When Earline was done hugging Annie, EJ reached his small arms out for her in which she happily accepted his invitation. Earline looked at the young woman then looked at Smoke, whose dark eyes were fixated on the scene before him.

Annie looked like a natural.

EJ nuzzled further into her neck and all Annie could do was melt. “Uh oh. Them babies can sense a good soul…. Sometimes they can sense somethin’ else.” The grandma’s eyebrows raised.

Smoke cut her off. “Aight, ma. We gone.”

An hour later, soft moans filled the living room air in unison mixed with the rhythmic creaks of the sectional sofa. Annie’s colorful maxi dress was pulled up around her waist, right under her breasts with her knees apart and spread over Smoke’s muscular thighs. Her juices spilled on to his lap only mere minutes ago but she was close again and he felt it. His right hand snaked up her back to grab her hair to signal that she should still her movements.

He started with a few quick pumps before setting his pace that had his dick stroking up into her as if he was trying to make room for himself inside of her permanently.

Maybe he was.

“I bet you stayin’ now.” He grunted against her neck. Elijah had no plans to let her forget about that mishap in Brazil anytime soon. The woman couldn’t do anything else but slur her responses which she was sure came out as incoherent babbling.

——————————————————————

November

Three days left until Thanksgiving break but for Annie? It was her last day of teaching for a while. Her body was beyond tired these days. Most of the time, she could hardly make it through the school day, barely making it to lunch. But her village and everyone around her helped her and pitched in when they could.

These days, her pregnant belly entered rooms before she could.

Only three more months of this.

She reached into a cabinet to grab some trash when her classroom door opened. By the sound of the footsteps, she knew exactly who it was. Jordyn.

Annie began speaking without looking back. “Jordyn, you ‘sposed to be in Ms. Williams class. You gone get both of us in trouble now.” The little girl stepped closer.

“No, I won’t. Ms. Williams say today iss okay.” Her hands immediately went for Annie’s hardened stomach as she began drawing circles on her belly as if she had a piece of paper below her.

“Baby numberrr one.” She drew a swirl. “And baby number two.”

Annie pointed a little bit further up. “Baby numba’ two is here.” She smiled.

The door creaked open and in walked Smoke, dressed in a black V-neck and dark jeans. This morning, he told Annie that he’d be dropping by with a crew to help her move out of the classroom but right now, he was alone.

Just her, him, and Jordyn stood in the halfway packed learning room.

He gave her one look-over as he licked his lips. She looked gorgeous and so full of him.

“Why you standin’ on ya feet right now? I told you I got it.” Of course this would be the first thing he’d say. Annie looked at him, then to Jordyn then back at Smoke in warning. The man retreated. For now.

A few seconds later, he looked over at Jordyn and gave her a small nod which left Annie confused as she fanned herself. Smoke was right, she did need to have a seat because she was overheating even though it was cool outside.

“Ms. Celestine.” Her little voice squeaked out. “We got somethin’ for you.”

Elijah reached into his front pocket to pull out a small velvet black box which he handed to Jordyn first.

Inside, sat a nine and a half carat yellow gold double banded engagement ring.

The heavily pregnant woman looked down at the ring then up at Smoke who’d been watching her every move and reaction…as he did since day one. “You sho’ about this, ‘Lijah?”

He said nothing as he removed the glistening ring from its storage to place on Annie’s swollen finger.

The little girl gave them no time to celebrate before she took off running into the nearby hallway to embrace the awaiting family members and friends. Smoke arranged for all of them to be there to assist with cleaning out the classroom but he failed to mention his other plan. Only Jordyn and her mother had any inkling.

“Ms. Celestine gettin’ married!” She sprinted up and down the quiet hallway. “I told her!”

END.

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87349321/chapters/233239346

https://archiveofourown.org/works/87349321/chapters/233239346

Link to Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/nika324/820376954348945408/you-stayin

Smoke said: inspo credit to @r8dsquid

A/N: Well…. 😭😭 Ngl, this fic made me want to eat my fawkin phone since day one and not in a good way. But I’m happy with the end result. My goals with this fic was to show despite his obsession, he meant well. And to be loved is to be seen. Him upgrading her friends’ flights, him including Jordyn in the proposal, etc was all for a reason. Annie loved all that chaos even though she cut him. 💀💀💀 Also: Listen to children bc they know things we don’t know sometimes. My granny always say that.

Alright friends. This may be it from me for a while. Ima still be on here but ima be hella busy the next few months. I gotta go and sell this puss to pay for my travels. Byeeee. 💛💛 I’m joking. 🥲 Maybe.

Thank ya’ll always. 🫶🏼

Smoke left Aunt Cheryl’s without a second glance backwards.

The gravel crunched beneath the truck tires as he pulled onto the road, the familiar stretch of Mississippi highway unfolding beneath a sky slowly bleeding gold into orange. His knuckles ached every time he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, a steady reminder of the punch he’d thrown and the argument that had come before it. The pain should have made him feel foolish.

Instead, it mostly made him feel tired.

The entire afternoon weighed on him. Annie’s tears. Her yelling. The way she’d looked at him like he had personally ruined eight years of her life. How she stood in the middle of Aunt Cheryl’s yard and told him she’d spent all those years waiting for him to fight for her.

Then Stack’s voice showed up right behind the memory.

You punched him because she grabbed that suitcase again.

Smoke swore under his breath.

Unfortunately, his brother hadn’t stopped there.

The first person she reached for wasn’t you.

That part irritated him most because Stack had said it with the confidence of somebody who already knew the answer. Smoke had wanted to tell him he was wrong, and say Isoo got punched because he should’ve kept his fucking mouth shut. He wanted to tell him it had nothing to do with Annie. The problem was every time he replayed the moment in his head, he arrived at the same conclusion Stack already had.

The punch was never about Isoo.

His jaw tightened.

The road curved gently ahead. Smoke followed it automatically, barely paying attention to where he was going. He’d driven these roads his entire life. He could’ve found his way home blindfolded. His eyes drifted toward the passenger seat. The mixtape sat there. Quiet. Innocent. Like it hadn’t caused a damn thing. Annie’s handwriting stretched across the cover exactly the way it always had. Uneven in places. Slanted slightly to the right. Familiar enough that he recognized it before he’d even registered what he was holding.

Two weeks.

That’s what she said. Two weeks making the fucking thing. Choosing songs while thinking about him. The thought annoyed him, confused him. Then irritated him again because confusion felt entirely too close to hope.

His phone vibrated against the center console. Smoke glanced at the screen and sighed. He knew where this conversation was headed.

LEWIS JONES.

For a moment he considered letting it ring. Then he answered. “Uncle Lewis.”

“You done?”

The corner of Smoke’s mouth twitched despite himself. “Done what?”

“Actin’ stupid.”

A laugh escaped him before he could stop it. Small. Brief. Then it was gone. 

“Depends.”

“On?”

“How bad do his face look?”

The answer came without hesitation. “Bad enough.”

Smoke nodded once. “Aight.”

Silence stretched between them. One of the things Smoke appreciated most about Uncle Lewis was the man’s refusal to fill every empty space with noise. Most people got nervous when conversations slowed down. They rushed to fill the gaps with questions, opinions, or advice nobody asked for.

Lewis never did. 

The older man let the silence breathe before speaking again. “You know everybody saw through that shit, right?”

Smoke looked out the windshield. “Saw through what?”

“You ain’t punch that boy ‘cause he butted in.”

There it was. Smoke should’ve known. He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and watched a pair of headlights pass in the opposite direction.

“You ain’t even know that boy was there half the afternoon.”

Smoke huffed quietly. “That ain’t true.”

“Who you lyin’ to?” 

The question came so quickly Smoke almost laughed.

“You been mad for a long time.”

The words sank in a little deeper. Lewis wasn’t talking about the cookout anymore. Smoke knew it. Lewis knew it. Hell, everybody who loved him knew it.

The older man sighed softly through the phone. “You ever get tired?”

Smoke frowned. “Of what?”

“Being mad.”

The question caught him off guard, because it wasn’t complicated. For a while all he heard was the hum of tires against pavement and the low growl of the engine beneath him. Eventually he shrugged. “I guess.”

Lewis made a low sound. The kind that meant he wasn’t buying the answer. “You know how many arguments me and Cheryl survived because one of us was too stubborn to shut up?”

A smile tugged briefly at Smoke’s mouth. “Too many.”

“Exactly.” A pause followed. Then Lewis added quietly, “You know how many we survived because one of us was too stubborn to talk?”

The smile disappeared. Smoke’s eyes turned to the passenger seat again. To the mixtape and Annie’s handwriting. He looked back at the road. Neither man spoke. The silence stretched longer this time. Thoughtful and heavy at the same time.

“You know what I keep thinkin’ about?” Lewis asked eventually.

Smoke already knew. Still— “No, sir?”

“That girl flew all the way back to Mississippi.”

Smoke swallowed.

Lewis continued. “Three states.”

The truck rolled forward through the fading evening light.

“Three states and two weeks makin’ some CD.”

Smoke let the words sit with him.

“You think folks do that for somebody they don’t love?”

The question sat heavy between them. The answer coming fast. No. Of course not. But saying it out loud felt dangerous somehow. So he didn’t.

Lewis didn’t push either. He never had to, but he still continued— “You ain’t gotta forgive her tonight.”

Smoke stared ahead.

“You ain’t gotta fix everything tonight either.”

The road stretched empty before him. Fields on one side. Trees on the other. Home getting closer with every mile.

“But don’t spend another eight years punishin’ yourself.”

Something about the way Lewis said it made Smoke’s chest tighten unexpectedly. Yourself. The distinction mattered more than Smoke wanted to admit. Because if he was honest, truly honest, the years hadn’t only hurt Annie. They’d hurt him too. More than he’d ever admit.

The truck grew quiet again. The sky darkened another shade.

Eventually Lewis cleared his throat. “You headed home?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good.”

Smoke waited.

Lewis chuckled. “Go home.”

“That’s yo’ advice?”

“Yep.”

Smoke rolled his eyes. “You called me for that?”

Uncle Lewis chuckled. “I taught you construction. Might as well teach you common sense too.”

Despite himself, Smoke laughed. “Yes sir.”

The word left before he thought about it. A habit nearly as old as he was. For a minute he considered ending the call. Instead, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. 

“Thank you.”

The line went quiet. Then Lewis answered simply. “Welcome, son.”

There was a tightening in Smoke’s chest. It wasn’t that Uncle Lewis had never called him ”son” before. He had. A handful of times over the years. Usually when Smoke showed up to help with a project around the house or worked alongside him on a jobsite. Small moments. Easy moments. The kind that never seemed important until later. But hearing it now felt different. Maybe because there hadn’t been many men in Smoke’s life who earned the right to say it.

His father certainly hadn’t. Most of Smoke’s memories of his own father involved whiskey on his breath, anger in his voice, and the sound of boots crossing a porch that made two little boys tense before he even opened the door.

Uncle Lewis had been the opposite. Patient where his father had been cruel. Steady where his father had been unpredictable. The man who taught him how to frame a wall, read a tape measure, show up on time, and finish what he started. Uncle Lewis handed him his first construction job and expected him to work for every dollar of it. He was who Smoke thought about whenever people talked about good fathers.

His throat felt tight suddenly. “Yes sir,” he said again.

For a while neither of them spoke. Then, like always, Lewis broke the tension before it could become something either of them had to acknowledge.

“Get home safe.”

“I will.”

“And Smoke?”

“Yeah?”

Uncle Lewis paused. “Listen to that damn CD.”

The line went dead before Smoke could answer. For the rest of the drive, Uncle Lewis’s words followed him home. Not about Isoo or even the part about Annie. It was Uncle Lewis’ question that stayed with him.

You ever get tired?

At the time Smoke had brushed it off. Gave him a half-answer and kept driving. But the farther he got from Uncle Lewis and Aunt Cheryl’s house, the harder it became to ignore. Somewhere between North Carolina and Mississippi, between missed calls and unanswered letters, pride and hurt and eight years of silence, carrying it all had become exhausting.

And for the first time, Smoke found himself wondering what it might feel like to finally put some of it down.

By the time Smoke pulled into his driveway, the anger had given way to something heavier than it had been when he left the cookout. It still sat in his chest, still burned every time he replayed parts of the afternoon, but it no longer felt sharp. Sharp things cut quickly. This felt more like a weight. Something dense and stubborn that had followed him all the way across town and climbed into the truck beside him.

The engine idled for a moment after he parked. Smoke rested both hands on the steering wheel and stared through the windshield at the dark outline of his house. Usually coming home felt like relief. Quiet. Predictable. A place where nobody needed anything from him for a few hours. Tonight it felt different. Maybe because he knew exactly what was waiting on the passenger seat. And Stack’s voice had still managed to survive the entire drive.

You punched him because she grabbed that suitcase again.

Smoke exhaled slowly through his nose.

The worst part wasn’t that Stack had said it. The worst part was that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He replayed the argument, Annie calling for Isoo, and the look on her face when she said she wanted to leave. He still arrived at the same conclusion. The punch hadn’t been about Isoo. It hadn’t even been about whatever smart ass shit came out of Isoo’s mouth. It had been about Annie reaching for somebody else when everything inside him had been screaming for her to stop running to any and everything, but him.

Eventually he killed the engine and climbed out. The house was quiet when he stepped inside. Not peaceful, quiet. Empty quiet. The kind that made every creak of the floorboards sound louder than it actually was. Uncle Lewis and Aunt Cheryl’s house had always been full. Full of people, conversations, and yelling from one room to another. Even when nobody was talking, there was always the feeling that somebody might start. Smoke’s place wasn’t like that. Most days he preferred it. Tonight it gave him too much room to think.

The mixtape landed on the kitchen counter while he headed for the refrigerator. He opened the door and stared inside, as though something useful might appear if he gave it enough time. A container of leftovers sat on the top shelf beside eggs, sandwich meat, and vegetables he’d bought because he told himself he was going to start eating cleaner. None of it looked particularly appealing. Smoke shut the refrigerator and got pissed all over again.

Aunt Cheryl had probably made enough food to feed half the county. There had been ribs, potato salad, baked beans and rolls. Even Pearline’s nasty ass Mac and cheese was there. And at least five desserts. Normally he’d have left carrying enough leftovers to survive the next several days. Instead he’d left carrying a bruised hand and a damn mixtape.

“Ain’t even get to bring no fuckin’ plate home.”

The complaint sounded stupid the second it left his mouth. Unfortunately, that didn’t make it less true.

For half a second he considered getting back his truck, driving to Aunt Cheryl’s, and fixing himself a plate like a grown man with priorities. Then he pictured Annie sitting in that house, Stack there with a stupid ass look on his face, and Aunt Cheryl looking at him like she had a sermon ready.

Hell nah.

A little while later he found himself standing over the stove making a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. The entire situation felt ridiculous. He’d spent the afternoon arguing with Annie, punching Isoo, getting lectured by Stack, and receiving life advice from Uncle Lewis, only to end the night standing in his kitchen cooking like a man who hadn’t just had his entire emotional foundation kicked in. The sandwich wasn’t terrible. It also wasn’t Aunt Cheryl’s ribs.

Smoke ate anyway.

Afterward he grabbed a beer, stared at it for a second, then put it back. The whiskey seemed like a better idea. He poured himself a glass and carried it into the living room. A few minutes later, he looked down and found it untouched. His attention kept drifting back to the kitchen counter. To the mixtape. That pissed him off too.

At some point he found himself wiping down countertops that weren’t dirty. Then reorganizing a drawer that hadn’t bothered him in months. Then checking laundry that didn’t need checking. 

The thought arrived slowly enough to make him feel stupid. He was avoiding the mixtape. A grown ass nigga avoiding a CD. Worse, Annie would probably find it hilarious. That thought alone nearly made him put the fuckin’ thing in the CD player just out of spite.

Instead he took a shower.

The hot water should’ve helped. Usually it did. Construction work had a way of settling into muscles and joints. A shower could wash away most of a hard day. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough hot water in Mississippi to wash away Annie. She showed up anyway—crying, yelling, and saying she’d waited. 

And she called him Elijah. 

That always stayed with him. Most people call him Smoke now. Some folks probably forgot Elijah existed. The nickname had become easier over the years. Simpler. Safer. Smoke belonged to everybody. Smoke was the man people expected him to be.

Elijah belonged to Annie. 

Always had.

After the shower, Smoke dried off and pulled on a pair of sweatpants before catching sight of his hand in the bathroom mirror. The knuckles looked worse now than they had at Aunt Cheryl’s. Adrenaline had carried him through the drive home, but it wasn’t doing him any favors anymore. Swelling had already begun to set across the back of his hand, and purple bruising was working its way beneath the skin.

“Shit.”

He flexed his fingers once and instantly regretted it. The punch felt good for about three seconds. Now it just hurt like hell.

Smoke dug through the bathroom cabinet until he found peroxide and a box of bandages his mom had practically forced him to buy after splitting his hand open at a construction site a few months earlier. At the time she’d fussed at him for nearly twenty minutes about keeping basic first-aid supplies in the house. Standing here now, pouring peroxide across busted knuckles, he hated admitting she might’ve had a point. A few minutes later he found himself sitting on the edge of the bathtub while the antiseptic fizzed against broken skin. The sting should have kept his attention. Instead, his mind wandered right back where it had been all evening.

Annie.

It seemed like no matter what he was doing, every road eventually led back to her. The tears. The yelling. The way she’d looked at him in the middle of the yard. Then, inevitably, his thoughts landed on the part he hated most.

Isoo.

The punch? Nah. Not even the argument that led to said punch. It was the moment before it. The moment Annie grabbed that suitcase and looked past him. Smoke lowered his head and rubbed a hand across his jaw. By the time he’d wrapped the worst of the damage and tossed the used bandages into the trash, he was in a perpetual state of irritation. Because Stack had been right. And so was Uncle Lewis.

A cigarette seemed like a logical next step. Then whiskey. Then sitting on the back porch convincing himself he wasn’t thinking about the mixtape while doing exactly that.

The Mississippi night wrapped around him warm and familiar. Crickets chirped somewhere beyond the fence. A dog barked in the distance. His neighbor several houses over was playing music low enough that only the bass reached him. Smoke sat there until his cigarette burned almost to the filter and the whiskey glass sat empty beside him.

Eventually he ran out of things to do. He’d exhausted every distraction available.

The house felt different when he walked back inside. It was later now and the whiskey had finally done its job. But now there was no avoiding the fact that Annie’s mixtape was still sitting exactly where he’d left it. Waiting. Patient in the way Annie never was. Smoke shook his head and picked it up off the counter. The plastic case felt surprisingly light in his hands. His thumb brushed across the writing on the cover before he could stop himself.

For Elijah.

Never Smoke.

The version of him she always seemed able to find no matter how deeply he buried it. For a moment he simply stood there staring at the words. Then Uncle Lewis’s voice echoed in his head.

Listen to the damn CD.

Smoke sighed heavily. “Yeah, yeah.”

He wasn’t entirely sure whether he was answering Uncle Lewis or Annie.

Maybe both.

The disc disappeared into the stereo. Smoke stood there with one hand resting on the shelf beside it, seriously considering taking it back out. The thought lasted right up until he remembered the few hours of his evening had been spent avoiding it.

Enough was enough. He pressed play and static crackled softly through the speakers.

Then Annie’s voice filled the room. “Elijah, if you’re listenin’ to this, it means you finally stopped bein’ hardheaded.”

Smoke froze. All he could do was stare at the stereo. Then Annie laughed. Not a big laugh or one of the loud ones that made everybody else join in. This was smaller, the one that usually appeared when she thought she’d gotten away with something. Her voice came through the speakers again, pleased with herself.

“Good.”

A click followed.

Seconds later the opening notes of Can We Talk came through the living room.

Smoke closed his eyes and laughed despite himself. “Oh, she got jokes.”

The song continued playing.

Track 1: Can We Talk

The opening notes of Can We Talk filled the room as Smoke leaned back into the couch. At first he listened the way most people listened to old songs. Half paying attention. Half letting familiarity do the work. The melody was recognizable, pulling up memories he hadn’t thought about in years. He could already hear Annie laughing at herself for choosing it. Shit, he was laughing too. Of all the songs she could’ve started with, she picked the one that practically came with a flashing sign attached to it.

The thing was though, the joke stopped being funny about halfway through. The song didn’t change, but he did.

The longer he listened, the harder it became to separate the music from the message underneath it. Annie had never been the type to do anything halfway when she cared. If she baked a cake, she spent three days finding the right recipe. If she bought somebody a gift, she’d somehow remember a throwaway comment they made six months earlier and build the entire thing around it. Every meaningful thing Annie had ever done came with intention attached to it. Looking back, maybe that was why the last eight years had hurt so much. Neither of them had ever stopped caring enough to become indifferent. 

They’d simply found different ways to carry the hurt.

Smoke clenched his jaw until the muscle ticked, then leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. The whiskey sat forgotten on the coffee table. At some point he’d stopped drinking it. He wasn’t sure when. His attention had been entirely on the stereo, which was annoying because it meant Annie had managed to hijack his evening without even being in the room.

A bitter laugh escaped him. That sounded about right.

The song continued playing, and with every passing minute Smoke found himself thinking less about the argument at the cookout and more about the years before it. Not the breakup or the misunderstandings. The good parts. 

Annie stretched across his couch with textbooks scattered around her. Annie stealing fries off his plate after claiming she wasn’t hungry. Her singing along to songs she only knew half the words to and making up the rest with complete confidence. There had been a time when talking to her felt as natural as breathing. Somewhere along the way they’d lost that. Or maybe they hadn’t lost it at all. Maybe they’d simply buried it beneath years of pride, hurt, and assumptions until neither of them remembered where it was.

By the time the song ended, Smoke hadn’t moved in several minutes. The room felt quieter afterward, though that probably had more to do with the absence of Annie’s chosen soundtrack than actual silence. He sat there waiting without meaning to. Waiting for the next song and for whatever she’d decided came next, because curiosity had quietly replaced resistance along the way.

Annie’s voice returned before the next track started. Something in his chest tightened. It wasn’t the recording itself. It was how normal she sounded. She wasn’t crying, there wasn’t any anger in it or heartbreak.

Just Annie.

There was amusement in her voice before she even spoke, the same amusement she’d carried since she was fourteen years old and entirely too pleased with herself. “Before you start rollin’ your eyes, yes, I know that one was obvious.”

Smoke shook his head and rolled his eyes despite himself. 

There she was. 

Since she’d stepped back into Mississippi, he wasn’t thinking about the woman standing in Aunt Cheryl’s yard with tears streaming down her face. He was hearing the girl he’d fallen in love with. The girl who always had something to say, and who could make him laugh when he was trying his hardest not to.

Annie laughed softly on the recording. “If I gotta suffer through eight years of your stubbornness, you can survive one Tevin Campbell song.”

The smile lingered longer this time. She wasn’t wrong, because she’d always known exactly which nerve to touch. Or maybe hearing her like this reminded him of something he’d forgotten. The Annie sitting safely inside this recording wasn’t trying to win an argument. She wasn’t defending herself and not asking him to choose between his version of the past and hers. She was simply trying to talk to him. Really talk to him. And judging by the fact that he was sitting alone in his living room listening this closely, it was working. 

The knowledge came over him slowly as Annie exhaled on the recording and fell quiet for a moment. She hadn’t made him a playlist. She’d built him a conversation.

And Smoke was finally listening.

Track 2: Truth Is

The silence that followed Annie’s recording didn’t last long. A few seconds later another song began to play.

Smoke recognized Fantasia instantly. That alone made him sit back. Annie had always loved Fantasia. Not casually either. That girl treated Fantasia songs like scripture. Back in high school, he’d spent an entire semester listening to Annie defend her against people who insisted she sang too many sad songs. Annie always disagreed.

“They ain’t sad,” she’d argued one afternoon from the passenger seat of his car. “People just don’t like the truth.”

At the time he’d rolled his eyes and told her she sounded fifty years old. At sixteen, he’d thought she was being dramatic. At twenty-six, he wasn’t so sure.

The song continued playing while Smoke leaned back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. At some point he’d stopped treating the mixtape like background noise. His attention remained fixed on every word, every transition, every choice she’d made. Annie had spent two weeks putting this thing together. Two weeks deciding what came first and what came next. Nothing about that sounded accidental.

Which meant Truth Is was here for a reason. The message wasn’t difficult to understand.

The truth is. Three simple words. Words capable of ruining an otherwise peaceful evening.

Smoke closed his eyes.

The memory arrived before he could stop it.

It was years ago. Long enough that he couldn’t remember the exact date anymore. Stack had talked him into going out after work. A restaurant on the other side of town. Some female Stack was messing with at the time had a cousin or a friend she insisted would be perfect for him. Smoke remembered almost none of the details now. Not her name, what she ordered, or what they talked about.

He only remembered the feeling.

The woman was beautiful. Smart too, and easy enough to talk to. The conversation never stalled. She asked questions and listened to the answers. By every measurable standard, the night should’ve been a success. Stack certainly thought it was. The first thing out of his mouth the next day had been, “So when you seein’ her again?”

Smoke remembered shrugging. Remembered saying, “I don’t know.” At the time he’d blamed work, timing, then the fact that he wasn’t looking for anything serious. The same excuse he’d been feeding everybody for years. Listening to Fantasia now, he found himself wondering if that had ever really been true, because the part he remembered most wasn’t the woman.

It was the moment she’d laughed.

For one brief second she’d tilted her head back and smiled, and before he could stop himself he’d thought about Annie. The thought had simply appeared. 

Uninvited and Automatic.

Annie would’ve laughed louder. Annie would’ve made fun of him afterward. Annie would’ve stolen something off his plate and then argued about why it didn’t count as stealing.

The comparison lasted all of three seconds. The date never stood a chance after that.

Smoke rubbed a hand across his mouth.

The song continued. Another memory surfaced. Then another. Different women. Different years. Different cities. Every single one ending exactly the same way. Nothing wrong with them. Nothing he could point to and say that’s why this didn’t work. Just a persistent feeling that something wasn’t there.

Or maybe somebody.

The thought crept up on him so gradually he almost missed it. For years he’d told himself Annie was the exception. The first love. The one that got away. The person everybody compared others to for a little while before eventually moving on. The problem was “a little while” wasn’t supposed to last eight years. “A little while” wasn’t supposed to survive multiple relationships, birthdays, holidays, and entire stages of life. “A little while” wasn’t supposed to follow somebody into adulthood.

Yet Annie had.

The song was still playing when Smoke lowered his head and stared at the floor. Across the room, the stereo glowed softly in the darkness. The house felt smaller now. Quieter. Like Annie was sitting somewhere nearby saying all the things neither of them had been brave enough to say before.

Truth is.

The words echoed through his head. Not the lyrics—the title. The confession hidden inside it, because the longer he listened, the harder it became to ignore the possibility that Annie wasn’t the only person this song belonged to. Maybe that was why it bothered him. Why he hadn’t reached for the whiskey in nearly twenty minutes, because for the first time all night, the mixtape wasn’t asking him to think about Annie.

It was forcing him to think about himself and that was a much harder conversation.

Track 3: Garden (Say It Like Dat)

The transition into the next song happened so smooth Smoke almost missed it. Almost. SZA’s voice eased through the speakers, and he understood Annie wasn’t done telling the truth.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

Of course she picked this one. Of all the songs on the radio, Annie had always gravitated toward the ones that sounded like confessions. Songs that peeled back ugly feelings people normally tried to hide. Songs that admitted things most folks would’ve rather kept to themselves.

Garden was one of those songs.

Smoke reclined a little further into the couch. Outside, the Mississippi night continued without him. Crickets. Distant traffic. The dog was still barking. The sounds filtered through the screened window above the sink, familiar enough to disappear into the background. His attention remained fixed on the stereo. On what Annie was trying to say. At first he thought the song was about vulnerability. It was about fear.

There was a difference.

What it meant became clear slowly. The way most important things did. Piece by piece. Memory by memory.

Smoke found himself thinking about a night during their sophomore year. Football practice had run late, leaving him sore, exhausted, and running almost entirely on instinct by the time he finally met Annie outside the library. She’d talked nearly the whole walk home, telling him about a history article she’d read, Pearline getting written up in chemistry for arguing with the teacher, and some recipe she'd seen on a cooking show that she was convinced she could make better.

Smoke had listened the way he usually did after practice. One-word answers. A nod here. A quiet laugh there. Enough to let her know he was listening. Or at least he’d thought so.

Along the walk Annie got quiet. He barely noticed at first. She always had something to say. The silence felt strange enough that he eventually looked over at her.

“You alright?”

She shrugged.“Mhm.”

“You sure?”

“I’m fine.”

Smoke frowned. He knew better. Annie wasn’t the type to stop talking unless something was bothering her. 

He tried again. “What happened?”

“Nothin’.”

The answer annoyed him instantly because it was obvious she was lying. They went back and forth for nearly twenty minutes, Annie insisting she was fine while Smoke insisted she wasn’t, until she finally stopped walking altogether. He’d taken another few steps before he looked over. She wasn’t beside him anymore. When he turned around, Annie was standing in the middle of the sidewalk staring at the ground.

“You still like me?”

The question caught him so off guard that he laughed. It wasn’t that it was funny, it didn’t make any sense to him.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Where’d that come from?”

She shrugged again, refusing to look at him. “I don’t know.”

Smoke walked back toward her. “Annie.” “You serious?”

Another shrug.

He remembered reaching out and tipping her chin up until she finally looked at him. “Of course I still like you.”

“You do?”

“Man, what…” He laughed again, shaking his head. “I thought that was obvious.”

She searched his face for another second before finally smiling, small and almost embarrassed. “Okay.”

Then, just like that, she started walking again.

At sixteen, Smoke thought that had settled it.

He’d chalked the whole conversation up to Annie overthinking things the way Annie sometimes did. He never stopped to ask what had made her question it in the first place. Didn’t consider that spending one evening distracted by football and fatigue had been enough to make her wonder if she’d done something wrong. Sitting in his living room now, listening to a woman who had flown across state lines carrying a mixtape and eight years’ worth of unresolved feelings, Smoke felt that memory differently. Back then he’d blamed Annie’s insecurities. Now he wondered if he’d been looking at them wrong the entire time.

Maybe Annie wasn’t asking because she doubted him. Maybe she was asking because she needed to hear it. Needed confirmation, reassurance, and needed something he wasn’t particularly good at giving. Now, he wondered how many times she’d needed words and never gotten them. Because if there was one thing Annie had been asking for their entire relationship, it wasn’t grand gestures, gifts or promises.

It was words.

And words had always been the thing Smoke struggled with most.

Track 4: Damage

The next song started before Smoke could talk himself into getting another drink. He recognized the voice. But the artist? No idea. Couldn’t have told anybody if they paid him. But he’d heard the song plenty of times on the radio. At the time, he’d never paid much attention to it. 

Now he did.

That seemed to be happening a lot tonight.

By the second verse, Smoke was on his feet. He didn’t mean to stand. He just found himself moving. Restless. The same way he’d been restless beneath the pecan tree earlier. The way he’d been restless sitting on the porch pretending he wasn’t thinking about Annie while thinking about nothing else. He crossed into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, one hand rubbing absently across his jaw.

The song continued—and unfortunately, so did his memory. 

Standing in Aunt Cheryl’s yard crying.

“I came to yo’ house so excited to see you.”

The words hit differently now than they had a few hours ago. At the time he’d been too busy defending himself to really hear them.

Now he couldn’t stop hearing them.

“You acted like you couldn’t wait for me to get the fuck outta Mississippi.”

Smoke closed his eyes, because that wasn’t what happened. He knew that. Annie knew that now too. At least part of it. But knowing she misunderstood him didn’t erase the hurt she’d carried all these years. For years he’d been focused on the fact that Annie left. Focused on the unanswered phone calls, unreturned letters… silence. The feeling of being abandoned. He’d spent so much time staring at his own wound that he’d never stopped to consider hers. Didn’t stop to think about what it must’ve felt like walking out of his house that day believing she was saying goodbye to somebody she loved.

Believing he didn’t care.

Smoke exhaled slowly and looked down at his bandaged hand. The irony wasn’t lost on him. All afternoon he’d accused Annie of running, but the more he thought about it, the less that word fit. Annie hadn’t run from hard things. She stayed through grief, through loneliness. Shit, she’d spent seven years carrying around his mixtape.

Seven years. 

Through college. Through apartments. Through every version of herself she’d become since leaving Mississippi. She’d been too afraid to listen to it. Too afraid it would confirm the thing she’d feared most. That he’d already said goodbye. Yet she kept it anyway. Like some part of her couldn’t bear to hear him let her go, but couldn’t bring herself to let him go either.

That wasn’t somebody running. That was somebody hurting. The thought lingered long after the song ended. Smoke found himself looking at the damage between them and recognizing something he’d spent almost a decade avoiding.

Not all of it belonged to Annie.

Some of it belonged to him too.

That—that left him restless.

Smoke pushed himself away from the kitchen counter and crossed the living room without thinking. He grabbed his cigarettes off the end table, slipped through the back door, and stepped onto the porch. The night air met him immediately, thick with humidity and the familiar chorus of crickets beyond the fence. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the porch railing, hoping the nicotine would quiet the thoughts Annie had spent the last four songs stirring up.

Track 5: Say Yes

By the time Smoke came back inside, the cigarette had done absolutely nothing to help. The night had grown later while he stood on the porch. The sounds of the neighborhood had thinned considerably. The dog that had been barking earlier was finally quiet. The bass from music farther out disappeared. Even the crickets seemed softer now.

The house felt still when he stepped back through the door. Still and entirely too empty. Smoke shut the door behind him and stood there for a moment, looking towards the stereo. Part of him considered calling it a night. 

The smarter part. 

The part that understood Annie had already managed to drag him through memories he’d spent years avoiding. Unfortunately, the smarter part hadn’t been winning much tonight. A few minutes later he crossed the room and sat back down. He pressed play on the stereo remote. The stereo clicked. Then Annie’s voice returned. For a moment she didn’t say anything. Smoke could hear movement in the background. Paper rustling. A quiet breath. 

When she finally spoke, her voice sounded different. Softer. “You know what’s really embarrassing?” 

A soft laugh escaped her. Smoke could hear the smile in it, because sometimes Annie laughed when she was nervous.

“I almost didn’t put this song on here.” A pause followed. “Actually, that’s a lie.” Another small laugh. “I knew I was gonna put it on here. I just kept trying to talk myself out of it.”

Smoke’s attention shifted completely on the stereo. Her voice sounded less playful. More exposed.

“I think what bothers me most is that I know better.” The words came quietly. “I know people probably gonna hear this and think I lost my mind.” Another pause. “Maybe I have.”

Smoke dragged a hand over his chin.

“I called you.” The words landed softly. “I tried to talk to you.” A longer pause. “And you made it real clear that whatever we used to be ain’t what we are now….”

Smoke closed his eyes.

“Maybe that’s true.” Her voice dropped. “There really is no us anymore.” 

The sentence sat between them.  Heavy. Honest.

“But…” A breath. “If somebody asked me today.” Another breath. “Knowing all that.” 

The next words came without hesitation.

“I’d still choose you.”

Smoke stared at the floor.

“I’d still say yes.”

The click sounded. Then the song began. Smoke closed his eyes. For a long moment he didn’t move. Didn’t think. He didn’t do much of anything except listen. The music filled the room, wrapping around everything Annie had just admitted.

I’d still choose you.

The words lingered because they carried a weight he wasn’t prepared for. Yet here Annie was. Still choosing him.

The thought followed him into memories of her. 

Annie asleep on his shoulder during a movie she’d sworn she wanted to watch. The way she’d automatically reach for his hand whenever they crossed a crowded room. How she’d laugh when something genuinely caught her off guard. How she’d curl her feet beneath her whenever she sat on the couch. 

The way she’d say his name.

After she gave herself to him that first time, it was like a dam broke. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Every stolen moment, every quiet hour they managed to find, he wanted her again and again—wanted to feel the way her body softened and fit against his, the way her breath would catch as she cried out his name while her fingers would dig into his back like she was trying to keep him there forever. He had never known hunger like that. He couldn’t get enough of her skin, her scent, her warmth, or the quiet sounds she made when it was just the two of them and the rest of the world disappeared.

Smoke rubbed a hand across his jaw. 

That was the part nobody ever talked about. It wasn’t just the attraction or the chemistry. It was the familiarity. The comfort. The ease of being understood without having to explain himself. Even as kids, Annie had a way of making his world feel quieter simply by being in it.

His mind went there anyway. Annie now. Grown ass woman. Hips thicker, body filled out in all the right ways. She had that steady confidence in her voice on the tape now, even with the tiredness underneath. He wondered how it would feel to take his time peeling her out of her clothes, no more rushed teenage shit. Slow. Thorough. Learning every new inch of her.

He could picture it— her looking up at him without that old nervousness, hands sure as hell when she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down. The way she’d probably arch into him, legs around his waist, knowing exactly how she wanted it. Deep strokes. Heavy breathing. The kind of sex that came with history and hunger and the quiet understanding that they’d already lost too much time.

There had only ever been one person for him. The only person who felt woven into the fabric of his life so completely that imagining a future without her felt unnatural. The only person who understood his silences without demanding explanations, and who could sit beside him for hours without needing to fill every quiet moment. Somehow, she had always managed to make a room feel less empty simply by existing inside it.

Smoke let out a slow breath, trying to shake the image.

It wasn’t just about sex. It never had been.

Annie.

The name moved through him quietly.

The song continued playing. Smoke lowered his head and stared at his hands. One knuckle was still swollen beneath the bandage. His skin still carried the faint scent of cigarette smoke.

The house remained empty. Yet for the first time all night it didn’t feel quite as lonely. Maybe because Annie’s voice still lingered in the room. Or maybe because she’d just admitted something he’d spent trying not to admit himself.

Given the chance, he’d still choose her too.

He’d say yes.

Track 6: Made For Me

The last song ended, but Smoke didn’t reach for the remote. He remained where he was, forearms resting on his thighs, staring at nothing in particular, letting the last few minutes sink in. The house had gone completely quiet again. The clock above the stove ticked steadily behind him. The ice in his abandoned whiskey glass had melted into cloudy water. Outside, the darkness pressed against the windows.

It was late.

Later than he’d thought. The mixtape had stolen most of his night. The thought should’ve made him mad. Instead, he found himself reaching for the remote before he could talk himself out of it.

The stereo hummed softly.

Then Annie laughed.

The sound caught him off guard. It wasn’t loud, but it was familiar. The kind of laugh that always sounded like she was smiling at her own thoughts.

“You know what annoys me…again?”

Smoke shook his head. Despite everything, the corner of his mouth twitched. Annie had been starting conversations that way for most of her life. “You know what annoys me?” usually meant Annie was about to say something she’d spent entirely too much time thinking about.

“I spent years trying to figure out what was wrong with me.”

The smile disappeared. His attention fully on the stereo.

“I thought maybe I was comparing everybody to some impossible version of you that didn’t even exist anymore.”

Something tightened in his chest. Her words didn’t surprise him. The older he got, the harder it became to ignore how often he’d done the same thing.

The recording continued.

“But the older I got…” Her voice softened. “The more I realized there wasn’t nothin’ wrong with me.”

The room seemed to grow quieter.

“I was just lookin’ for you.”

The click sounded. Then the song began. Smoke leaned back slowly against the couch. For a long moment he didn’t do much of anything except listen. The song floated through the room while his attention slipped somewhere he usually tried not to let it go.

Years. Entire years. Twenty-six wasn’t old. At least that was what everybody kept saying. Yet somehow adulthood had arrived anyway. Careers. Responsibilities. Bills. Funerals. Relationships. Life kept moving whether you were ready for it or not. That was the strange part. Somewhere inside all those years, Smoke had convinced himself he’d eventually wake up one day and Annie would stop being the standard. The way people claimed first loves were supposed to fade. Time, distance, and life were supposed to handle it. 

Instead, life kept handing him reminders. Jada had been a good woman. She was funny. Easy to talk to. Pretty. He enjoyed being around her, and for a while he’d convinced himself that was enough.

So he tried. 

He tried to ignore the feeling that something wasn’t quite clicking. Tried to believe that whatever he’d shared with Annie belonged to another lifetime, another version of himself that had long since grown up and moved on. But every time he started thinking maybe this could work, something held him back.

It wasn’t anything Jada did. That was the problem. She’d done nothing wrong. Yet every goodbye came too easily. A few days could pass without seeing her and it never really bothered him. When she left, he missed her company, but never her presence.

Annie was different. She could leave a room and somehow take the room with her. Annie wasn’t perfect. Lord knew she wasn’t. She overthought things. Jumped to conclusions. Held onto hurt longer than she should’ve, and when she got angry enough, she could say things sharp enough to leave scars. Yet somehow none of that changed the fact that she’d always felt right.

Right.

Such a simple word. But it explained more than all the others combined. 

Annie fit.

It wasn’t that loving her had been easy. Quite the opposite. There had been moments when loving Annie felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done. But even then, she still felt right. Like the missing piece of a conversation he’d been having his entire life. Like somebody he’d been searching for long before he knew enough to search.

The song continued. Smoke lowered his gaze toward the floor. For years he’d told himself he was protecting his peace. Protecting his heart and himself from disappointment.

Now he wasn’t so sure.

Maybe he’d simply been protecting a place nobody else had ever managed to reach. A place Annie had occupied so completely that every attempt to replace her had failed before it truly began. The thought should’ve bothered him.

Instead, it felt suspiciously close to relief.

For years he’d told himself there had to be a reason nobody else ever felt right. There had to be a reason he kept comparing Jada and other women to somebody who lived three states away. A reason eight years had passed and Anissa Marie Landry still occupied more space in his head than she had any right to.

It wasn’t because something was wrong with him. He wasn’t stuck, he didn’t believe. He'd simply spent years looking for something he’d already found once. 

Annie was right. Maybe she had just been looking for him. And maybe he’d been looking for her too.

The thought lingered. Then, before he could stop it, another one followed.

Maybe she was made for him too.

Not maybe.

She was.

Track 7: Thinking Out Loud

The track began so quietly Smoke almost missed it.

For a second he simply sat there, one arm stretched across the back of the couch, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion and whiskey and the emotional beating Annie had spent the last several hours delivering through a collection of songs. The house had gone quiet around him hours ago. The kitchen clock ticked steadily somewhere behind him. Outside, the night pressed against the windows in a blanket of darkness broken only by the occasional passing headlights.

Then the opening notes drifted through the speakers. Smoke’s eyes opened completely. Recognition arrived immediately. Not because he remembered the title. Shit, if somebody had asked him what the song was called, he probably couldn’t have answered. But he knew the song. More importantly, he knew exactly where he knew it from.

A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he could stop it.

“Man.”

The word escaped quietly into the empty house.

Out of every song Annie could’ve chosen, somehow she’d found this one.

The memory came so fast it almost felt like being pulled backward through time. One minute he was twenty-six years old sitting in the middle of his living room. The next he was fourteen years old standing inside Rollers Skating Rink with rented skates laced too tight around his ankles and half the church youth group packed inside.

The place smelled like floor wax, popcorn, sweat, and stale nacho cheese. Colored lights swept across the rink while music echoed through speakers that had probably been outdated before any of them were born. Every few minutes, somebody crashed into somebody else, and laughter erupted from somewhere across the building.

Smoke had spent most of the evening regretting coming. Skating wasn’t his thing. If he’d had his way, he’d be sitting at home. But his mama informed him that sitting in the house all weekend wasn’t a personality trait and practically shoved him out the door. Stack had spent the entire ride there acting like the church had personally organized the event for his entertainment.

Unfortunately, the night had gone exactly the way Stack wanted. He was in his element. He was showing off and making a fucking fool of himself while a cluster of girls laughed at everything he said. Every time Smoke looked up, Stack was somehow at the center of another conversation.

Smoke had no interest in any of that. He’d been perfectly content skating slow laps around the edge of the rink and counting down the minutes until their mama decided they’d stayed long enough.

Then the youth pastor announced a partner challenge.

Looking back now, he couldn’t remember what the challenge actually was. He couldn’t tell you the rules, the prize, or whether anybody even won. What he remembered was standing near the wall when the youth leader started pairing people together and noticing there weren’t enough partners left.

The youth leader barely finished explaining the challenge before everybody started scrambling for partners. Stack wasted no time, calling dibs on a girl before half the room even understood the rules. Across the rink, Pearline laughed as one of the girls from church grabbed her arm and claimed her for their team. Within seconds everybody seemed to have found somebody. 

Everybody except Smoke and Annie. 

Smoke noticed it at the exact same time Annie did. Her eyes met his briefly before darting away.

Neither moved.

The youth leader looked between them and laughed. “Boom, there you go.”

Annie dropped her gaze to her skates. Smoke rolled his eyes.

The youth leader sighed dramatically. “Y’all act like I told you to get married.”

That only made things worse. 

A few minutes later they found themselves skating side by side. The awkwardness lasting all of ten minutes. Annie talked too much for awkwardness to survive around her. Every time the conversation threatened to die, she dragged it back to life with another question. Another observation. Another completely random thought that somehow made perfect sense inside her head. By the third lap she’d gotten him talking. By the fourth they were arguing about music. By the fifth Smoke found himself looking forward to whatever ridiculous thing was about to come out of her mouth next.

The crazy part was that Annie wasn’t even trying. She wasn’t flirting, showing off, or doing any of the things girls usually did when they wanted his attention. She was simply being herself. At one point she started skating backwards while carrying on an entire conversation.

Smoke stared at her. “You gon’ break yo’ neck.”

“I’m fine.”

“You ain’t even lookin’.”

“I know where I’m goin’.”

“Do you?”

Annie laughed. The sound followed him halfway around the rink. 

The music changed a few minutes later.

Smoke didn’t think much of it at first. Songs had been rotating all night. Some people cheered when they recognized one. Others groaned dramatically before continuing whatever conversation they were already having. The speakers crackled slightly as the next track started, and for a second nobody paid much attention.

Then Annie gasped. The sound caught his attention.

“Oh, I love this song.”

Smoke glanced toward the ceiling speakers before looking back at her. “Nah.”

Annie blinked. “Nah what?”

“I ain’t skatin’ to this.”

Her expression shifted instantly. Confusion first. Then suspicion. “Why?”

Smoke pointed vaguely toward the music overhead. “Cause this some white people shit.”

She shot him such an offended look that he almost laughed.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“If you actually listened to the words, they’re beautiful.”

Smoke snorted. “Aight.”

“No. Not aight.” Annie folded her arms.

The movement nearly threw her off balance and she corrected herself with an irritated little skate adjustment that only made her look more annoyed.

“Sorry, this ain’t Lil Wayne. 

Now it was Smoke’s turn to be offended. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with Weezy F. Baby, girl.”

“Of course you’d say that. Every song can’t be about sex, selling drugs and threatening people, you know.”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

“There is when it’s all you listen to.”

“It ain’t all I listen to.”

“Sure it ain’t.”

The argument continued for another lap around the rink before Annie finally threw her hands into the air.

“You know what? Forget it.”

Smoke didn’t like that tone. “What?”

“I’m done arguing with you.” Then she pointed toward the center of the floor where couples were beginning to gather. “I’m gonna skate by myself.”

The words shouldn’t have mattered. Looking back now, Smoke knew that. She wasn’t leaving, going home, or disappearing. She was moving maybe twenty feet away. Yet something unpleasant sat low in his stomach anyway.

Annie started pushing off before he could fully understand why.

For the first time all evening, the thought of her not being beside him felt wrong. The thought arrived quietly. So quietly that fourteen-year-old Smoke almost missed it. Somewhere over the last hour he’d gotten used to her. The questions, her laughter and used to looking over and finding her beside him. The idea of spending the rest of the night without any of that suddenly felt far less appealing than it should have.

“Annie.”

She stopped and turned. “What?”

Smoke regretted speaking, because now he had to explain himself. His ears felt warm.

“I mean…”

Annie waited. One eyebrow slowly rising.

“If you wanna skate…”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “You wanna skate to the white people  music?”

Smoke rolled his eyes. “Man, shut up.”

Annie laughed. “No, answer the question.”

The smile she was trying to hide made it difficult to stay annoyed.

Smoke shook his head. Then finally looked at her. “I wanna skate… with you.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them. Before he could make them sound cooler, or could pretend they meant something else.

For a moment Annie just stared at him. She wasn’t laughing or teasing him. Just looking. Then something flickered in her expression. Surprise. The honest kind. Then, slowly, she smiled. The smile was different from the others she’d given him all night. Smaller…softer. Like she’d suddenly become aware of something she couldn’t quite name.

Without saying another word, she held out her hand. Smoke looked at it for half a second before taking it. Her fingers were warm.

That was all.

Nothing dramatic happened. The lights didn’t get brighter. The music didn’t swell. Nobody stopped skating. The world continued exactly as it had thirty seconds earlier. Yet Smoke became painfully aware of the fact that he was holding Annie’s hand. The awareness followed him straight into the slow skate.

Around them, teenagers paired off beneath the colored lights while the song echoed through the speakers. Some couples talked. Others didn’t. A few boys looked like they’d rather be anywhere else.

Annie looked delighted. She quietly sang along to parts of the song under her breath, mouthing words she clearly knew by heart. Smoke pretended not to notice. He noticed. Every single time.

“See?” she asked after a minute.

Smoke frowned. “See what?”

“The lyrics.”

He groaned. “Oh Lord.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“They aight.”

Annie gasped dramatically. “‘Aight’?”

“They ain’t Lil Wayne.”

That earned another laugh. The sound landed deep in his chest.

The song continued. The conversation flowed. At some point Annie stopped trying to convince him the song was amazing and started talking about something else entirely. A teacher she didn’t like. A test she thought she’d failed. Pearline threatening to fight somebody earlier that week.

Smoke couldn’t remember most of it anymore. What he remembered was how easy it felt. The strange comfort of it. The way an hour had somehow turned into two without him noticing. How being around Annie required less effort than being around almost anybody else.

That was the part that stayed.

Her.

The way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she cared about. How she laughed with her whole body, and she always looked directly at whoever she was speaking to. The way she made ordinary things feel interesting simply because she was the one talking about them. And somewhere along the way, he found himself wishing the night wouldn’t end. The thought surprised him enough that he almost looked around to make sure nobody had heard it. When the song finally faded and another one took its place, Annie released his hand and skated ahead a few feet before turning back toward him.

“You survived.”

Smoke rolled his eyes. “Barely.”

Annie laughed again, then she reached out and grabbed his wrist. “C’mon.”

Before he could ask where they were going, she pulled him towards the middle of the rink.

To this day, Smoke couldn’t even remember what they were supposed to be doing the rest of the night. But he remembered everything about Annie that night. Her laughing, singing along to a song he’d spent years pretending he hated. Annie grabbing his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

And maybe that was the night it started.

A week later he would be standing in a crowded school parking lot listening to Jada talking about something, when Stack yelled from across the pavement.

He’d turned automatically. Not towards Stack—

Towards Annie.

She stood near the curb laughing with Pearline, her backpack hanging from one shoulder. The sight of her found its place in his chest with the same ease it had at Rollers. Familiar. Comfortable. Natural.

Annie looked up. Their eyes met. Surprise crossed her face first. Then a smile. Small and quick before it disappeared again.

Smoke looked away before she did, but the feeling stayed.

Looking back now, Smoke he’d spent years mistaking the feeling for coincidence. The parking lot after school. Football games on Friday nights. Church on Sundays. Cookouts at Aunt Cheryl’s house. Hallways crowded with students rushing to class. 

Somehow his eyes always found Annie.

At the time, he never questioned it. Annie had simply become part of the landscape of his life. As familiar as Stack, his Mama, and Uncle Lewis. As familiar as home. If he arrived somewhere and she was there, his attention naturally went her way sooner or later. If she wasn’t there, he noticed that too.

Back then he thought it meant nothing.

Now he knew better.

A fourteen-year-old boy standing beneath colored lights at a skating rink had looked at a shy girl with a quick smile and a laugh he couldn’t seem to get enough of. Somewhere between arguing about music, holding her hand, and wishing the song would last a little longer had quietly taken root inside him.

It wasn’t love—yet. Just the first fragile beginnings of it. The kind of feeling that grows so slowly you don’t notice it’s happening until years later, when you look up and find it’s woven itself through nearly every important memory you have.

Smoke leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. A fourteen-year-old boy had taken Annie Landry’s hand and thought the night was better when she was in it.

And whether he’d understood it or not, he’d been looking for her ever since.

Sometime during the night, Smoke fell asleep. He wasn’t entirely sure when it happened. One minute he had been lying on the couch staring at the ceiling while Thinking Out Loud drifted through the speakers. The next he was fourteen again, with Annie’s hand in his and her laughter ringing through the air. Even asleep, the memory lingered.

The sound of music pulled him back toward consciousness.

Slowly.

Reluctantly.

Smoke frowned before he even opened his eyes. Sunlight pressed against his eyelids. His neck ached from sleeping on the couch. One arm had gone numb during the night and the stiffness in his shoulders reminded him that thirty-minute naps and sleeping in an actual bed were two very different things.

Music continued as he laid there listening without really hearing it. His mind was still caught somewhere between sleep and memory. Then different lyrics rolled through the room and his eyes finally opened.

My face turns to gold

Hoping to find my way home

This place I don't know

No yellow brick road to follow

The living room looked different in daylight. The whiskey glass still sat on the coffee table. His bandaged hand rested against his stomach. The CD case remained exactly where he’d left it the night before. Smoke pushed himself upright and rubbed a hand across his face.

The song continued. Unfamiliar to him. At least he thought it was. Frowning, he looked toward his phone. It was lying face up on the coffee table with the screen illuminated.

Spotify.

The CD must’ve ended hours ago. At some point the stereo had switched back to the playlist he’d been listening to earlier while he spent half the evening finding excuses not to press play.

Mmm, take me home, let’s make love, real love

Take me home, let's make real love, real love

Take me home, let's make real love, real love

Take me out of the blue

Smoke glanced at the screen.

Green Papaya — Lianne La Havas

The title meant nothing to him. Still, he found himself listening to the words. Really listening.

Our hearts overgrown

Longing for peace of our own

Found heaven in you

Promise to be pure and true

The house remained quiet except for the music and the occasional creak of old wood settling beneath the morning heat. Sunlight spilled through the windows, painting bright rectangles across the floor while the song floated through the room with an easy warmth that reminded him entirely too much of Annie.

Maybe that was why he couldn’t stop listening.

Still mountains to climb

We will survive, still got time

Or maybe everything reminded him of Annie now.

The thought would’ve pissed him off yesterday. This morning it felt suspiciously close to acceptance.

Smoke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The lyrics continued, soft and thoughtful and intimate in a way that felt less like a performance and more like a conversation. Not a desperate one.

Just someone who knew another person completely.

My partner-in-crime

Hoping you'll love me till we die

The kind of knowing that couldn’t be built overnight— that came from years. The kind that came from paying attention.

And suddenly he thought about Annie knowing he hated tomatoes, but loved tomato sandwiches. How he ate slowly, always taking twice as long as everybody else to finish a meal. How, when he was angry, she never pushed him to talk. She’d simply sit beside him in comfortable silence because she knew her presence mattered more than her words. She remembered the houses he used to draw in the margins of his notebooks. She knew he always reached for the corner piece of cornbread. She could tell when he was lying before he’d even finished the sentence.

She knew him. 

The truth quietly fell into place. Even after everything that had happened, and the years between them, Annie still knew him. His gaze went towards the CD case again. Towards the careful handwriting on the front—to the evidence of an entire night spent listening to a woman explain herself in every way she knew how.

Something shifted. Not another revelation. Those had come all night long. A decision. Clear, certain and simple. Smoke stood so quickly he nearly knocked the coffee table with his knee.

He needed to see her, not call or text. See her. 

Today. 

Now. 

Before fear had another chance to talk and pride convinced him to stay home. Before he could come up with a single excuse not to go. The urgency surprised him. One minute he was sitting on the couch and the next he was looking for his keys. 

The kitchen counter. Nothing. Coffee table. Nothing. End table. Nope…not there either.

Smoke frowned. “Where the fuck…”

He checked the kitchen again. Then checked the coffee table again. Then stopped. The keys were already in his hand. For a moment he simply stared at them. Annoyed. Half awake. Entirely too tired to be trusted.

A laugh escaped him. His shirt was still missing. He was standing in the middle of his house wearing nothing but sweatpants and determination.

He didn’t care.

For the first time in years, he knew exactly what he wanted. And for once, he intended to do something about it.

Then came the knock. Three soft taps against the front door. Smoke froze, he thought he’d imagined it. Then the sound came again. Softer this time. His heart kicked hard against his ribs. Because somehow he already knew. The distance between the living room and the front door had never felt longer. He crossed it anyway. Slowly at first. Then faster. His hand closed around the knob. For one brief second he simply stood there. Then he opened the door—

And there she was.

Morning sunlight spilled across the porch behind her. She stood there with her braids pulled into a high ponytail and a pale yellow dress that made it entirely too easy to stare. The color shouldn’t have done anything for him. It was just yellow. Yet somehow it made her look more beautiful against her smooth chocolate skin. Brighter. Like she’d carried a piece of the morning with her. 

Her hands were clasped loosely in front of her, fingers lacing and unlacing together while uncertainty flickered across her face. It had been a long time since he’d seen Annie look this nervous around him. Then again, maybe she wasn’t nervous around him. Maybe she was nervous about what came next.

Neither spoke. They simply stared at each other. Two people who had spent eight years carrying the same thing in different ways.

Then Annie swallowed. A small smile appeared.

“Hi.”

Smoke forgot every single thing he’d planned to say.

End Note: Y'all know Smoke is about to fuck Annie into a coma, right? Right. K, byeeee! ✌🏾💜

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