2. Cemone Compton

MONTHS LATER…

Inhaling on the blunt, I sat planted on the couch in the Mondrian suite I'd booked as "I'd Rather Give You My Bitch" by Suga Free bumped over the room. This song had been my muthafuckin' anthem since the first time I'd heard it. I gave no fucks about a lot of these bitches I ran through. Most were gold diggers, plotters, and schemers, so I made sure to use their asses for the one thing them hos were good for. As Suga Free proudly made clear, I'd rather give you one of these bitches, who were already for the streets, than any fucking thing else of mine , especially this good ass weed filling my lungs .

I didn't splurge, spoil, or spend on none of their asses either, which was why I found it funny that Yolani swore up and down all the shit I'd done for her, I did all the fucking time. I wanted to say more in the moment, but I'd been known to be rude as fuck on multiple occasions, and sadly, I gave a fuck about what she thought of me.

Initially, I approached Yolani because I wanted to hit… I wanted to hit bad. She was beautiful as fuck, some shit I knew from seeing her on TV, but a lot of these females only looked 15 percent like what you saw on social media and shit. So, I admit I was caught off guard seeing her in person and the fact that she somehow looked better. TV did her no justice, and that was on everything I loved.

Then when she dissed a nigga, I busted my ass trying to do everything to conquer her muthafuckin' ass, but she wouldn't budge. Then after she talked to me crazy on my birthday, I said fuck it. There were too many hos out here ready and willing to let me slut 'em out without so much as conversation. Shit, I got my dick sucked the other night, all from a muthafuckin' head nod. So wasting my time on mean ass Yolani made no fucking sense.

"Aight, Cemone," the homie Cosmo gestured as the six ladies I'd spotted tonight at the club sauntered into the room.

They all looked happy as fuck as if one of them would go home and eventually take my last name. That shit would never happen, and the thought alone scared the fuck out of me.

For three months, with the exception of this week, I'd been on my sperm retention shit. After having two fucking kids that were the same age, I dialed shit back. I had fucked both my baby mamas with a condom on, and some kind of way, that shit came back to bite me in the ass. By saying that, I took some time off my fucking tour to not only focus on my kids but be sure I didn't get not another soul pregnant. I had a possible at the same time, but thankfully, I turned out not to be the father, and then she aborted the little muthafucka. She and I both had reason to keep the shit a secret, so I didn't have to worry about the backlash in the media.

Since I'd first gotten drafted, I'd had bitches pin babies on me, and every time God saw me through the shit, because they were either lying or I turned out not to be the father. Them last two, though, ended my fucking winning streak.

"Hi, Cemone." One of the females stepped forward as I sank into the couch, enjoying the Kush and the feeling it gave me.

I hated that I'd now begun to notice that Yolani was prettier than any and every fucking body. I wished I'd never seen her mean ass, because I was comparing every bitch to her in my head now.

"Cosmo told y'all how this shit go?" I asked, and they all nodded, still smiling. "Let's go then."

The women turned their backs to me, gripping their ankles and parting their legs slightly so I could get the perfect view of what laid between their thighs. The most appealing one always got to spend the night with a nigga.

The entire fucking time I studied the lineup of pussy, all I could think about was how Yolani's probably looked. Honestly, I didn't give a fuck what it looked like; it was gon' get ate regardless, if only she even let a nigga get that close. Fuck that. I had to remember I didn't even wanna get close no more.

I'd never experienced a woman turning a nigga down relentlessly until her stupid ass. I'd run across bitches, well-known and not, who attempted to play hard to get, but in no time, they were ass up, face down, allowing a nigga to do whatever I wanted to their asses.

Because to keep shit real, no woman would pass up the opportunity to fuck with one of the most famous NBA players, especially the unfamous females. So even when they attempted to act unfazed, they gave in, eventually. And usually, I could see through the bullshit, telling me that whole hard to get bullshit was an act. Not with Yolani though. Her armor was impenetrable.

"You." I smacked one on the ass. "And that's it," I stated after looking the others over, realizing I wasn't in the mood for a threesome tonight.

I wanted to bust my nut, then put the bitch out. When you had two of them, it was more work, and I wasn't in the mood for whatever fucking reason.

"That's it?" one mouthed off as everybody fixed their dresses, skirts, or shorts that had to be tugged down.

"That's what the fuck I said, didn't I? Less talking and more muthafuckin' walking." I gave Cosmo a look.

"Aight, y'all." He started pushing and shoving them bitches lightly as my choice of the night stood around, staring up at me with stars in her eyes.

"What you waiting on?" I questioned her, causing her to immediately get undressed as I descended back onto the couch.

Watching her closely as she sauntered over to me, I lit the next blunt and inhaled, nodding for her to get on her knees. Without question, she did as she was fucking told, and only seconds later, she was dressing my shit in the condom I'd provided and covering it with her mouth; well, as much of the shit as she could.

"Use ya muthafuckin' hands too. No excuses," I chided, not impressed with her only deep throating half my dick.

Nodding as much as she could with a mouth full of dick, she fell in line, jacking me off and sucking at the same time.

"Mmm," she moaned.

"You follow directions." I groaned at the feeling of my head tapping her throat. "I fuck with you."

Whether I fucked with her or not, I typically only had one-night stands, regardless. Usually, once I hit, I lost interest in doing the shit again. I had yet to run across pussy that made me want it after I already had the shit. Once a nigga got it and the shit lost its mystery, I was on to the next. My favorite pussy was new pussy. That was why I never understood my brothers being so fucking willing to lock shit down and be faithful, knocking down the same bitch every night.

I didn't even want a girlfriend, let alone a wife. I just wanted a new nasty bitch to end the night with every night.

Ridding my mind of Yolani and my brothers' simping, I relaxed and enjoyed turning whatever the fuck her name was out.

Later that night…

"You got all yo' shit?" I asked the groupie.

"Oh, no." She looked around like Bambi after her mama got murked, still in the bed.

"Gone 'head and get it then. I'm about to shower and knock out."

"Oh, I can shower and sleep too." She smirked.

"Nah, you can't, because I don't want you to. Don't make me ask you again."

Chuckling nervously, she replied as I went to cut the hotel shower on. "Okay. I should probably go anyway because I have a job in the morning." When I didn't respond, she continued. "A big one too. I'm doing makeup for thee Yolani. I hope I can get an autograph and picture, but I don't wanna be thirsty."

Hearing her fucking name made me dart from the bathroom quickly as fuck.

"You said Yolani?" I frowned.

"Yep." She blushed. "I was so shocked when I got the call, but apparently, it was last minute, and people recommended me when her assistant was looking for someone good and who could squeeze her in. Tomorrow is my son's birthday, so I was supposed to be off, but fuck my son. It's Yolani," she joked, at least a nigga hoped so.

But instead of tucking her kid in the night before his fucking birthday, she was out getting smashed, so clearly, the little nigga wasn't a priority.

"What's yo' name?"

Her smile dropped for a second before she said, "Lessa."

"Where is the event?"

"Why? You still pining after her?" She pulled her dress down over her head. "I hope not, because she isn't your type."

"What's my type?"

"She's all nice and sweet. That's not what you like." She switched over to me and tried to touch my chest, but I gripped her wrists tightly as fuck to stop her.

"You don't know what the fuck I like when you just met a nigga a few hours ago. Now stop worrying about a nigga you won't see again and answer my question 'fore you piss me off."

When her salacious smile slid right off her stupid ass face, she begrudgingly responded, "She's launching a matcha powder line. I guess because when she posted a reel of her making hers, it went viral."

"Where it's at?"

"In West Hollywood. I can text you the address."

"Nah, write that shit down and get the fuck out." I let her wrists go and snatched the writing pad and pen off the desk in the room. "Hurry the fuck up."

Quickly, she did as she was told, and after I inspected it, running through my mental rolodex to be sure it was an actual spot, I smiled.

"I'm guessing this means you won't be calling me?" She tried to laugh it off, eyes full of hope.

Without even responding, I walked to the door and held the shit open. Cosmo was already there to receive her, just like he was paid to do, and before she was even out the door good, I was letting that shit slam on her ass.

Grabbing my phone, I went onto social media and ventured to Yolani's page. She hadn't answered not a one of my messages even still. True enough, a nigga hadn't sent shit in months, writing her ass off as too much work, but that bitch Lessa bringing her up ignited some shit inside me.

As I watched the new shit Yolani posted, my dick got hard, especially the video of her walking in that short ass dress. Shaking my head at how on her ass I was, I left a comment.

CCompton22: I'm trying to see that in person.

My phone began lighting up as soon as I walked into the bathroom, but when I checked it, it was just a bunch of fans and randoms replying. Some telling me to keep at it and others saying to leave Queen Yolani alone. Placing my phone down, I cut my music on, then proceeded to shower, brush my teeth, and lay it the fuck down. I had a long day ahead.

G reen Goddess launch…

My driver pulled up to the front of the large ass venue decked the fuck out in Yolani's new company colors. I fucked with her hustle, choosing to have multiple streams of income. She made millions singing and had been for a decade, so she didn't even have to drop this shit, but she did, and that spoke fucking volumes.

"I'll hit you when I need you to come back around," I told my driver, Jared, and he nodded.

I usually preferred driving myself, but when it came to events and shit, parking was always sky high or unavailable, and I wasn't trying to deal with that shit.

Climbing out, I bypassed the long ass line of rabid fans, ignoring the thirsty ass females hollering for my attention, and the dehydrated ass niggas making comments as well.

"Aye, you on the list?" the big, buff muthafucka guarding the door quizzed, lip turned up like he was hard.

Looking down into his face because a nigga was taller than everybody, I said, "Nah, I'm not, but unless you ready to take a leave of absence from getting knocked the fuck out on the job, I suggest you move yo' Donkey Kong shaped ass out the way, nigga."

Blowing air out of his nose like he was contemplating when we both knew he was about to do as I fucking said, he finally stepped off to the side.

"I bet' not lose my job over this," he called out to me.

Ignoring him, I scoped the scene, inhaling the sweet scent of whatever was in the air. I wasn't into coffee, matcha, or none of that shit, but if it was what was in the air, I might just have to dabble here and there. And shit, with the way I was feeling, I was on some anything for Yolani type shit.

Commotion broke out once people noticed me, and before I knew it, I could barely walk from being surrounded. As I looked over the crowd for Yolani, trying to tune out people calling my name, asking for pictures, and autographs, I realized she wasn't out front yet.

Since she wasn't in the room at the moment, I stood in place, taking pictures, signing shit for as long as I could until more mayhem, camera flashes, and screams broke out. Peering up from the T-shirt I was signing, for the son of some bitch poking her titties out and hoping I fell for the shit, I spotted pretty ass Yolani strutting out.

She stayed wearing short ass shit, and it did something to me as if a nigga had never been in the presence of a fine ass woman before.

Finally, I had a break since the people here were more excited to see Yolani than me, which was a fucking first, so I zoned in on her. When she spotted me, which wasn't hard due to how big I was, I winked at her, causing a disgusted expression to appear accompanied by the roll of her fucking eyes.

For the next hour, Yolani talked about her matcha and the flavors, which were strawberry, blackberry, blueberry, and rainbow marshmallow. Someone was walking around with samples the entire time, giving me the opportunity to taste them all. The taste was good, but it was definitely some shit for females. Nigga like me only drank water, and then sodas, juices, and bullshit during the off season. But again, if sipping on this fuck ass matcha would grant me access to what Yolani carried between her legs, I'd buy the shit all up.

As the crowd of people began to mingle, I moseyed over toward her, shoulder checking her security who attempted to block me. When we made eye contact, I gave him a look, letting him know it was his decision on how he wanted this shit to go, making him suck his teeth and wave me on.

"Pretty ass Yolani." I smirked, walking up and trying to pull her into me, but she popped me like my mama used to when I would try to eat before she could even get the food out the fucking skillet.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"Let me talk to you with less noise, and I'll let you know."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "I think you have the impression that I want to talk to you." She laughed like she was the funniest muthafucka in the world.

"You do." I kept a serious expression, making her laughter cease.

"You know what, nigga?—"

"I'm fucking with you," I half lied, peeping the fact that she was about to let me have it. No female had ever spoken to me the way Yolani had. Shit, no bitch had ever had the balls to, not unless she had another Compton backing her like my sisters-in-law. "Please, love. I canceled my plans, I drank all this sweet shit, turned down a very thirsty but fuckable bitch, and I can't get a few minutes?"

"Wow." She folded her arms, smiling and waving to someone who called out to her. Focusing back on me, she said, "Three minutes."

"More than enough." I tried to grab her hand, but she snatched away.

As she started off, I followed her, happy as fuck to see that sexy ass walk up close. Like always, she had on a short ass dress that never seemed to rise up and give niggas a peek at what she knew we wanted to see. Her ass was perfectly round and fat. Her thighs were thick, waist was small, skin was a deep caramel, and her titties sat up like mangoes. Her curly golden-brown hair swung to the same rhythm of her walk, and a nigga was mesmerized. I would never admit that shit aloud though.

"Where you going?" Old boy from my birthday stopped her.

"Going to the back for a second. It's fine," she told him, and he looked to me. I stared back at his ass, not having to say a word. I said all I needed to last time. The next step was us getting in the fucking ring.

"Lani—"

"It's fine, Avery." She cut him off. "Go check on the front. I won't be gone long, but Nelly shouldn't be by herself. The turnout was bigger than expected." She started walking before he gave the okay, so I followed her, giving him a look and shrugging.

Finally, we made it to Yolani's dressing room, where she closed the door, then folded her arms, eyebrow raised.

"You always this mean?" I frowned, taking a seat.

"Yes."

"Come sit down."

"Nigga—"

"I want my three minutes to be the both of us fucking seated."

She rolled her eyes with a smirk so slight, anyone else would've missed the shit, but I paid close attention to Yolani Ian. She couldn't blink without a nigga noticing.

Sauntering over, she turned to sit down, but I gripped her hips to pull her down into my lap. Again, she popped my hand, yanking her small frame from me, then sat down roughly, hitting a nigga with her sexy ass perfume.

"Keep it up, Cemone, and I'm gonna whup your ass," she said, causing us both to laugh at that shit. It was beyond fucking impossible.

"I might like it." I touched her thigh, but when she gave me a look, I respected it and moved my shit.

"Now what? I'm sitting here, and your three minutes started a long time ago."

"Damn, how the fuck it start a long time ago when we just got in the fucking room, Yolani? Don't play with me. I'm crazy."

"And if I do play with you?"

"Don't be talking like that unless you ready to back that shit up. I'm too attracted to you, and every fucking thing you say gets my dick hard." She scoffed, lip flipped upward as if she were disgusted. "Come sit in my lap."

"Hell no. What the fuck is wrong with you? I don't even wanna sit next to you."

Chuckling, I sank into the couch. "I was just seeing how far I could go. You seemed to be cooling off a bit, but I see you always on one."

She scanned me for a minute like my words bothered her slightly.

"Well, I already explained prior, you won't get far with me. I only agreed to speak with you because I see you actually think you have a chance, Mr. Compton, and I want you to know you don't. You are so far from kissing me, fucking me, being my man as we are from the moon right now."

Damn. She was mean as fuck.

"Moon ain't that fucking far if you think about it. Just need a spaceship."

"Do you have a spaceship? 'Cause if not, my statement stands."

We stared at one another for a minute, and when I smiled, so did she but, of course, followed the shit up with the roll of her fucking eyes.

"So how hard you gon' make a nigga work before you meet me at the end of the aisle and have my baby?" I questioned, shocking my fucking self.

I talked all that shit last night but being in her presence had a nigga feeling like an honorary member of Jagged Edge. It was easy to talk my shit when I wasn't right here smelling her fucking perfume, looking into her pretty brown eyes, witnessing how beautiful she fucking was, even in person. When I called Yolani pretty ass, it was because the shit was true. Every fucking thing about her was pretty, right down to her nice ass toes peeking through them heels she seemed to never not wear.

Her mouth fell open in shock, and I could tell she wasn't expecting a nigga to say what I'd said. It didn't exactly align with my one-night stand ass reputation.

"Don't you have enough children?" she finally quizzed.

"Nah, I want six like my parents." Sitting up and scooting closer, I didn't miss the way her breath hitched a bit. "But I knew you wouldn't be up for that, so I got two out the way for you. You just have my next four, love."

"Nigga." She cracked up, grinning harder than I'd ever seen her ass do.

"One date."

"And what exactly do you think would happen on this date? I'm just curious." Before I could speak, she said, "Let me guess. We go out, I fall for your charms and words, then I let you fuck me?" She guffawed, and I admit, I didn't like that shit. That was my exact fucking plan.

Truthfully, I'd never taken a bitch on a date, but Yolani wasn't a bitch, and I was willing. When I got around her ass, she had a nigga acting out of fucking character, and I didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

"Nah, you wrong as fuck," I fabricated.

"Oh? Am I? You're not the first rich celebrity to try me, Cemone. You niggas are all the same. You throw money and smiles at women and think it works. Let me tell you something. I am not the bitches you're used to, so flossing your money, fame, and being Mr. Tough Man is not gonna get you in my bed.

"You wanna fuck with me, come harder. Show me why you're different from every other shooting guard who has slid in my DMs, sent me expensive things, and tried this same pop-up tactic. 'Cause I can tell you right now, the men who have gained access to me can be counted on one hand. It's very difficult to ride this ride."

Yolani was pissing me off but turning me on at the same fucking time. Something about how mean she was, was attractive as fuck, just as it was annoying.

"You won't know unless you give a nigga a chance, baby. And I don't give a fuck how many shooting guards don' slid in ya DMs. You ain't never met a nigga like me." I rose to my feet, making her do the same. This time, she didn't deny the helping hand I offered her. "You won't ever meet a nigga like me either."

"Is that what you think?" She giggled. "I have met plenty just like you, and I can have a nigga just like you by tomorrow."

"Shiiiit! You wish. You pretty as fuck but not that pretty." I lied my ass off, but it was the only way to talk my shit back without saying everything a nigga wanted to. I wasn't usually this fucking nice.

"I must be that pretty because I sure have your ass popping up on me like a stalker, sniffing behind me constantly and begging for even a slither of my attention, just like the rest of these thirsty ass niggas. And you do it no matter how many times I try to send your dog ass on your way because you don't seem to understand that I'm not in the business of training niggas. I want a man, not a little boy I have to shape, train, and give treats to when he gets it right."

"You doing a lot of fucking talking. Come up off that number so I can make you eat yo' words and this dick."

She was tearing a nigga a new asshole, and usually, I would dog her ass right back, but I was trying to impress her rude ass. I wasn't climbing up out that pussy for a week straight once I got it.

"No. Keep hitting me up on social media, and if I decide to reply, I will." Switching to the door with her fine ass, she snatched it open and said, "Your three minutes are up."

Making my way over and taking my fucking time, I stopped in front of her, saying, "Ease up on the shit talking 'cause I'm gon' remind you of the shit forever. When I'm fucking you, when we dance at our wedding, while chilling on our fucking honeymoon, and even while you laid on a hospital bed having my baby, I'm gon' remind you of all the bullshit you was spitting."

Her eyes bounced around my face as if she were in a trance before she quickly snapped out of it, sucking her teeth and saying, "Whatever, nigga. Take your delusional ass on somewhere."

"Uh-huh." I nodded, walking off and laughing. I caught a sliver of a smile on her pretty ass face.

I was able to slip back through the party and leave without people making too much commotion, thankfully, since Yolani had returned to take all the damn attention.

Checking the time, I saw I had about two hours before it was time to pick up my daughter from my baby mama Ananda, so I had my driver take me home so I could get my whip.

The whole way there, I kept thinking about Yolani's ass and all the shit she talked. I hated that her muthafuckin' ass wasn't budging, but I wasn't used to losing or not getting what I wanted. I just wished I knew how to go about the shit.

In the past, every woman, even the most difficult, didn't require much of a nigga. My natural charm always did the fucking trick, but Yolani was asking for more than I was usually willing to give. And I could tell it was either her way or a nigga had to keep it pushing.

Pulling into the driveway of Ananda's home that was too muthafuckin' big for the money she was making, I shook my head.

She was still dancing at the club I met her in, Golden Peach, because once her stupid ass got the child support I was giving her, she started living above her fucking means and therefore had to still work to get everything she needed.

Bashar, with his smart ass, had hooked me up with a family lawyer, since he only handled criminal cases, and guided the shit from the background the whole way. In the end, I was only ordered to pay each of my baby mamas fifteen grand a month. While that was a whole fucking lot to the average person, it was chump change to a nigga like me and way less than what I thought them bitches was gon' get me for.

Anyway, after Ananda and my other baby mama, Solene, started racking in that fifteen, both of their stupid asses upgraded their lives well beyond what they could afford. They rented homes in affluent neighborhoods where the rent was between almost seven to ten thousand dollars a month, instead of buying a fucking home in a cool neighborhood for a fraction of the fucking cost. On top of that, they leased luxury vehicles and shopped on Rodeo weekly, so that money that I was paying them, that once seemed like a jackpot, had quickly become not enough.

They'd both played them fucking selves, and to be only three years away from forty, you would think they would have a working brain that would've had them making smarter financial decisions. They had nine years on a nigga, but it was legit only a fucking number because they acted the same as some of these young bitches I'd run into.

Hopping out, I could barely close my car door before Ananda answered the door, attempting to smother her happiness at the sight of me. Honestly, I didn't even know why since it wasn't as if I was still smashing her. As stated before, I was a one-night stand type of nigga, so the night I got Ananda pregnant was the first and last time I hit. And I had no interest in getting that shit again since clearly her body chemistry beat out condoms.

The thought made Yolani seep into my fucking mind since the fact that I was looking forward to fucking her for a week straight said a lot coming from a nigga who was the one night only king 'round this bitch.

"Why you ain't got no clothes on?" I asked, frowning. "Blakely don't need to see you in no fucking lingerie."

"It is not lingerie, Cemone." She attempted to hug me, but I nudged her, slipping into the plush home.

It was laughable that a stripper was living like this. Like Solene, Ananda did a lot of shit to stunt for social media. But what them people liking, commenting, and watching didn't know was them bitches were still begging, having mismanaged the fuck out of their trapping bag.

"Well, I can see the outline of ya pussy and ya nipples, so it's close enough."

"Then stop looking." She closed the heavy door and switched extra hard to make her newly implanted ass jiggle.

She glanced back over her shoulder, smizing as if she just knew she had a nigga hot and bothered, but it couldn't be further from the fucking truth, especially after seeing Yolani who was naturally sexy. Yolani didn't have to do much; even the way she pushed her hair from one side to the other was sexy. Some females were sexy as fuck without having to do much, and then there were females like Ananda who had to do the muthafuckin' most.

"Go get my daughter," I said, sticking by the door like I always did.

"So we can't have a chat for a second?" She turned to face me, hands planted on her hips.

"Nah. I wanna get her and Callen home so they can go to bed. We doing some fun shit tomorrow starting early."

Ananda nodded, glancing down at her feet for a moment before sighing.

"Why do you treat me like this?"

"Like what, Ananda?"

"Like you don't know me or like I'm some random when I'm the mother of your daughter."

"I don't know you. I met you at the club, I fucked, and never heard from you again until you told me you had my fucking baby. What part of that says I know you, Ananda?"

"Well—"

"All you need to be worried about when it comes to me is that I take care of my daughter. I pay on time, even though I see it's going other fucking places, and I don't disrespect you in front of Blakely. Everything else, like how much attention I pay yo' ass, is irrelevant."

"Did I do something wrong? I thought we had fun that night, and I keep it quiet on my end," she added, referring to my other loud-mouthed, attention-whore ass baby mama, Solene.

Ananda was a cool mom from what I could see, but her problem was always chasing behind and doing shit Solene did. They'd been best friends for years, well before I got them both pregnant, so a part of me understood the attachment, but Ananda needed to understand Solene's dizzy ass would lead her down the wrong fucking path one day.

Solene was the main reason the media and world currently thought I was a deadbeat. She and I didn't get along and it was because like Ananda, she thought when she had my baby, she was about to be living like these other bitches who got pregnant by rich niggas. After racking up bills and expenses that ate up her monthly fifteen grand, she wanted me to give up more, but a nigga refused. Additionally, she thought having my son meant she could get my time, dick, gifts, and other shit, but because I paid her ass no fucking mind, the bitch was embarrassed and, therefore, resorted to dragging my fucking name online to get my attention.

It didn't work in the way her stupid ass wanted, though, because all I did was cut her ass off completely as far as contact. At the moment, my mama or Prime or both picked my son up from her for me, and that really pissed her ass off. Now not only did she not get all the things she wanted from a nigga, but she never saw me. Here and there, she hunted me down while I was out and popped up on me, but between security and certain events being private, it was 99 percent of the time a waste for her crazy ass.

So while Solene acted out to get my attention, Ananda played it cool, thinking that would get my attention. They were two sides of the same muthafuckin' coin, especially since Ananda not only knew I had her best friend pregnant even before I did, but knew she was Solene's best friend… some shit I wasn't even aware of until later. But that was what the fuck I got for slanging this dick at any bitch with a pretty face, fat pussy, and an even fatter ass.

"You ain't do nothing. I lose interest after I fuck, and nothing stood out to me about you, so you got put in the same category as them other hos. You being my baby mama don't change that shit; it just mean I gotta see you often, but you still not getting girlfriend treatment. If you wanted that, you should've trapped one of them sucka ass niggas, not me."

"But—"

"Go get my daughter. I'll be outside waiting." I cut her off, realizing she was gon' keep trying to have this conversation if I let her ass.

Moments later, Ananda emerged, carrying Blakely. My baby and I both lit up at the sight of each other as she damn near leaped into my arms.

"All her stuff is in there." Ananda handed me the bag, trying to sound sad because she still didn't understand that I didn't give a fuck.

"Look at daddy's princess." I zoned in on my baby, ignoring Ananda, and thankfully, she took her ass back in the house as I buckled my baby girl in.

As soon as I got in the driver's seat, my mama hit me to let me know she had Callen, so I headed that way to pick him up from her.

"Hey, cutie!" My mom beamed at Blakely, who basked in all the attention, smiling from ear to ear with her cute ass. The sight made me kiss her face before my moms snatched her from me.

"Hey, Ma." I kissed her cheek.

"Hi, handsome. Oh, Solene gave me a message to pass along to you."

"I don't need to hear it but thank you. She got my burner number, so she can hit that if it's something regarding Callen," I said, making her laugh and shake her head as I closed the front door. "Where he at?"

"Give me like twenty more minutes with them both, and then you can be on your way," she replied, and I nodded. "Khari is back there with Chianti."

"Aight." I tread to the big ass backyard to see my brother and pops chilling under the gazebo, so I joined.

"Big tall ass." Khari slapped hands with me.

"That's what the hos call me." I smirked, making his ass chuckle.

"Nigga, watch yo' language." Prime shook his head, stifling a smile of his own.

Sitting down, I said, "I know the difference between women and hos, P, trust."

"Oh word?" His brow hiked.

"I do. The hos are the females you fuck on, and the women become girlfriends, wives, and shit."

"Aight. You get a pass then." He sipped his lemonade. "Khari was taking up for you, and I guess he had reason to."

"Taking up for me why?"

"Said you was gon' get it together just like he did."

I nodded, slapping hands with my brother for having my back. Khari and I were the most similar in certain aspects, just like Bashar and Lequay were. Shakur and Unique were the only ones who seemed to have personalities that were completely their own. However, at the end of the day, we all shared a lot of fucking similarities.

"I love how y'all act like I'm the only one who be getting it in. Lequay muthafuckin' ass swear he was a saint," I said, making Prime and Khari crack up.

"Real shit. He don't like to believe he was a ho at one point in time," Khari added.

"That's facts." Prime smirked. "But what's important is all of y'all realizing that ain't the way to live. Doing that shit for a short time is cool, you learning, but after a while, you gotta pull that shit together."

"So you was a thot before my moms then, huh?" I asked.

"I don't know about all that, but I wasn't the best nigga in that sense." Prime shrugged and I nodded.

"I think I may have run into the one who gon' either have me getting my shit together or the one that's gon' make me murk something," I said.

"Who?" Khari questioned, blowing on some of the good ass spaghetti my mama had made. I made a note to take a nice amount home for me and my kids.

"Yolani," I said regrettably, knowing he was about to give me shit.

Months ago, when I was on her ass, sending gifts and shit, my brothers, in so many words, had told me to leave that shit alone. Eventually, I did, and I thought I was over it until recently. Now I couldn't stop thinking about her mean ass.

"Man, leave that girl alone, nigga." Khari shook his head.

"Aye, chill out. I ain't thirsty, muthafucka. I did leave her rude ass alone, and for a minute. But the other night, this groupie mentioned her, and I was right back on the shit." I shook my head. "It seem like when I ain't thinking about work, Blakely, or Callen, I'm thinking about Yolani's ass."

"Probably because you ain't ever been turned down," Prime suggested.

"Nah." I shook my head, taking in the pool and all the greenery. "At the end of the day, pussy is pussy, and it's been months since I've even thought about her ass. I shouldn't even give a fuck, to be honest. I've met some pretty ass females, vibe was cool and everything, and the shit was never like this."

"What you mean like this?" Khari's brows furrowed, studying me as he chomped down on the meat.

Sighing, I admitted, "I was watching her interviews and shit all last night. Checking her stories as soon as them muthafuckas pop up and everything, like a bitch. Like I'm one of you soft ass niggas." Prime spit up a little of his drink due to the laughter. "Not you, Pop. Any nigga married to my mama is a good man." I patted his shoulder as he recovered from his cough.

"Being married and faithful mean you soft?" Prime quizzed, still hacking a little.

"You 'bout to kill his old ass," Khari threw out, making us both crack the fuck up.

"I mean, a little bit. I feel soft as a muthafucka right now. She be talking to me like she hard, and I don't even say shit. Y'all know that's not me."

"Yeah, you like her. You too ignorant to let a woman cop an attitude with yo' ass, and if you online stalking her, it mean you like her. That's why shit feel foreign, nigga. You ain't ever liked nobody before," Khari explained.

"I've liked a few females."

"Nah, you've wanted to hit. Them are two different things, nigga. I don' ran across plenty that I wanted to smash in the past, but I never had feelings for 'em like I did Couture. That's because I liked Couture, loved her, and just wanted to hit them other hos."

Prime nodded, clearly agreeing with this nigga.

"I like that she driving you crazy though. That's what yo' cocky ass needs, somebody you can't easily impress and nab."

"Yeah, well, she may be playing hard to get, but I'm willing to bet my contract that's gon' be mine. Keep a seat open at the family events for her." I rose to my feet, seeing my mama emerge from the house into the backyard with my kids.

"Yeah, aight, nigga. I think me and the bros gon' place a bet." Khari called after me as I met my mama to grab my kids up and the spaghetti to go, ignoring his hating ass. I hoped Prime didn't think I didn't hear his old ass laughing.

Taking my kids, I greeted my son on the way through the crib and out to the driveway. Once I had them buckled in, I slid into the driver's seat and retrieved my phone from my pocket. Venturing to Yolani's social media profile, I typed up a message.

CCompton22: One date. Whatever you wanna do and whenever. Even if a nigga got a game at the same damn time, it's whatever for you.

I hit send then dropped it into the cupholder of my Rolls Royce. By the time I got home, fed then bathed my kids, and even read them a bedtime story, I saw Yolani's muthafuckin' ass had left me on read.