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Silence.

The city lights flickered in the distance, and for a second, neither of us spoke. Then, finally?—

"I don’t like seeing you with him." I sucked in a breath. His voice was low, raw, honest.

A confession.

"Creed…" I started, but he shook his head.

"I ain’t saying this to start something. I just… I need you to know." His eyes locked onto mine. "I don’t like seeing you with him. And I hate that I ain’t got no right to feel that way."

My heart pounded.

"Then what do we do?" I whispered.

He exhaled, looking down. "I gotta end things with Gianna."

I swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah, you do."

More silence.

Then, he looked back at me, his eyes full of something intense.

"But when I do…" he murmured. "We talk. For real." I bit my lip, feeling like I was standing on the edge of something big.

"Okay," I whispered.

We weren’t there yet. But we were getting closer. And this? This was just the beginning.

8

CREED

Basketball had been my first love before I even knew what love was. It was the one thing that had always made sense, the one place where nothing else mattered except me, the ball, and the game.

And tonight? Tonight was everything.

The first game of the season. The crowd was packed, the energy was electric, and I could feel the pressure heavy in my chest.

I thrived under pressure. But for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t just the game that had my focus shifting. It was them. My people. The small group of people who finally in my third year at school I had become close to after years of sticking to myself.

I had a lot of fans. I was used to the chants, the cheers, the people wearing my name and number across their backs.

But seeing Serenity in my jersey, that shit hit different.

Serenity was sitting court side, rocking my black and scarlet jersey with my name and number stretched across her back, her hair piled into curls that framed her face, looking fine as hell.

Arielle was next to her, paying more attention to Brodie than to me, but I appreciated her all the same. Serenity had even invited Averi and Egypt too, all of them cheering loud as hell.

But I only saw her.

And when our eyes met, everything else faded.

She grinned, mouthing, “Don’t fuck up, Langston.”

I smirked, shaking my head before turning my focus back on the game. And when that first whistle blew? It was go time.

I played like I had something to prove. Every shot, every drive, every pass—I was locked in. Focused. Unstoppable. It was the first game of the season, I had to do it, had to set an expectation of what could be expected of me for the rest of the season. My status in the draft depended on it.