"I know ma. Stop fronting. Tell me you miss me." He kissed her in between his words, in love with the way her brown eyes dazed. "I miss you. And your mouth tastes like pickles." She spoke softly, a smile taking over her face once he laughed. "You wanna taste it again?" He stuck his tongue out at her, and she closed her eyes after sucking it into her mouth. She cradled the side of his face, rubbing over his prominent jawline as the kiss deepened. Dayvon's hands went underneath her tank top, breaking the kiss for a moment to get it off. The way he rubbed on her body made her moan again, missing the feeling of his hands on her skin. He hadn't touched her intimately in so long. She'd missed him.

"You know how special you gotta be to change a nigga like me? Huh?" He tilted her head back to make her look at him, and a faint smile grew on her face as he wiped her cheeks. "My own grandparents couldn't do it for me and I loved them more than anything. You the one for me ma. That's why I ain't told you everything yet 'cause I don't wanna run you away. I need you." He laid his forehead against hers, gently kissing her lips. "Nobody will ever believe that King Von from O Block be crying to me like this." She smiled as she gazed into his red eyes, and he chuckled, nodding in agreement. "I ain't King Von wit' you. Just love." He kissed her cheek next, and her smile grew as her arms tightened around him for a warm hug.

People have spent years turning Zakai into some kind of monster. Scarred by a tragic apartment fire that took place when he was only eleven years old, Zakai has lived most of his life hiding from the world. With rumors surrounding his name and judgment following him everywhere he goes, isolation became safer than being seen. Meanwhile, Kinsley never expected a simple errand job to lead her to him. What starts as grocery store runs and brief interactions slowly becomes something neither of them saw coming. Because beneath Zakai's cold and distant exterior is a man struggling with years of guilt, grief, and loneliness. And the closer Kinsley gets, the harder it becomes to walk away. Some scars never fade, people just teach you how to live with them.

"I'll play you." Kross challenged with a serious expression on his face, smoothly twirling the basketball on his pointer finger. "For what?" Amiko sighed heavily, a bored look on her face, crossing her arms over her chest, tapping her foot repeatedly on the ground. "𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭."

Aujani Mitchell has never believed motherhood should depend on whether a man chooses to marry her. At twenty-seven, she has built a life she is proud of-a successful career as a pediatric nurse, financial stability, a close family, and enough love to give the child she has always wanted. After months of researching sperm banks and anonymous donors, Aujani realizes she cannot bring herself to choose a stranger. She wants to know her child's medical history, their family, and the kind of man responsible for half of who they will become. There is only one person she trusts that deeply. Her best friend, Cartier Moore. Cartier has been beside Aujani since fifth grade. They have grown up together, shared clothes, secrets, arguments, firsts, heartbreaks, and every version of themselves in between. He is also a devoted father, a successful businessman, and the one man Aujani knows would never abandon his child. But when she asks Cartier to help her have a baby, he makes one thing clear-he is not interested in being a donor. If they create a child together, he will be the daddy. Five months later, an appointment is booked, their plan is in motion, and the friendship that has survived almost everything begins changing in ways neither of them expected. Morning sickness brings Cartier closer. Late-night cravings become routine. Baby names, tiny clothes, doctor appointments, and quiet moments start feeling far more intimate than friendship should. Cartier falls first. Aujani does not realize she is falling until the man she has known nearly her entire life starts looking at her differently-and she begins looking back.

en·vis·age /ənˈvizij/ verb 〝 to contemplate, visualize or form a mental picture of something not yet existing or known 〞

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