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“Remembering why I was doing it in the first place. Poppi was sick, Staysha got jammed up with an undercover detective, and I had to make something shake. Even if that meant shaking something to pay off a debt. I remembered slivers of who I was, who Poppi raised me to be. I never took anything off. I just danced. And Mama wouldn’t let anyone touch me.

I wasn’t there long. But Midnight seemed safer than it was out here unprotected.

People getting close to you to exploit your weaknesses and either make you their bitch or take you out.

Wait...” Eden squinted. “It wasn’t just the oxygen drop off.

You and Priya. Oh my God, I knew there was somewhere else I saw you.

It was my first night at Midnight. I heard her talking to one of the girls about being pregnant. ”

Maximus nodded with a scoff. “Imagine coming home off a six-month bid to a fucked-up apartment and a pregnancy test.”

“Can I sound selfish?”

“You can.”

“This wouldn’t be if she didn’t fuck up. Think about it, if she were at home waiting on you, would you have sat down for four years and gotten your head right?”

“Probably not, if we’re being real. I probably would’ve died in the streets. Alone. You tellin’ me there’s a blessing in the setback?”

“Yeah, while trying to make myself believe it, too.” Eden huffed, cutting into the French toast. “But I did get some good news yesterday.”

“What’s that? Tell me.”

“I got a regular acting role, no audition.”

“Hell nah, why you ain’t lead with that yesterday?” Maximus asked, excitement for her exuding from him.

Eden shrugged shyly. “I didn’t want to mention it and have it snatched away from me, I guess. I had so many deals on the table and in the snap of a lie, they were all gone. Thank God Poppi taught me how to stack for a rainy day because I’d be screwed right now.”

“You know when I see that nigga again I’m laying his ass out,” Maximus gritted.

“I know.”

“Good. But on some real shit, you deserve all the good shit coming your way. Because you’re good, E. Your heart is pure and that’s some rare shit.” He hooked her chin and kissed her lips. “Eat. You’re going to need to build your strength back up.”

Eden took a bite, and her shoulders sank. “What am I supposed to do when you go off on shows and tours? Whose supposed to feed me like this?”

“Depending on your schedule, I'm trying to have you right there with me.”

“Compared to being away from me and tracking my every move?”

“I ain’t that damn crazy, but you got Joy360?” he questioned.

They both fell into laughter. They ate, cleaned up, and ended up on the living room couch, tangled in one another.

“You know what you haven’t done?” Eden softly spoke, her hand on the leg he had stretched over her lap.

“What?”

“All this music you’ve been working on, I haven’t gotten one file in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, you trying to hear something?”

“I’m always trying to hear something. I’m kind of a fan.”

“Heard you.”

He picked up his phone and scrolled through a few tracks before hitting one so it could play through the space.

“Walk it how you walk it, baby. Talk it how you talk it, baby. Movin’ like an OG raised you, baby.

Gave you game and you ain’t forget it, baby.

Trae Way bitch with a Trae Way switch. Runnin’ through 30 th in some fly ass drip.

Said she shy but got a nigga in a vice ass grip.

Must be Poppi’s girl. Got me set trippin’ like this. ”

Eden listened to the words before looking at him like she could suck him off the bone. “I’m not trying to be arrogant or anything. But did you write a song about me?”

Maximus didn’t say anything. Only smirked.

“Max,” Eden gushed, still listening.

“Running niggas like Poppi taught her, bouncing back like Poppi daughter. Big light on her. The type to have niggas hustlin’ for her. Walk it how you walk it, baby. Talk it like you talk it, baby. Pushin’ like Poppi taught you, baby. Hood hooked on your product, baby.”

She knocked his leg off of her lap so she could crawl into his lap. Peppering his face with kisses.

“You like it?”

She gushed. “I love it.”

“Good, it’s dropping tomorrow.”

What he didn’t tell her was that the money he was going to make off of performing it would buy Poppi’s Place and have the deed in her name.

Eden was showing him what love looked and felt like, whether she knew it or not.

For that, Eden was going to forever be straight.

Even if, by some stroke of fate, they were pulled from one another.

“That’s probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“I’m just getting started. You gon’ run off?”

“You gon’ pick me up and drop me? Or try to break my spirit?”

“Hurting you is going to hurt me. I’m already too attached for that. Plus, ain’t no bitch in my blood.”

“Max Baby,” Eden purred. “You want me living on my knees?”

“Nah, just stand beside me and I’ll stand by you.”

“I’ll stand after I thank you.”

Eden lowered herself to her knees and freed him.

His hardness back in her mouth was a sight.

How quickly she adjusted to his size and took his forcefulness without complaint.

If Eden needed him to slip down the mountain after claiming to never love again, he was.

She had him suspended somewhere between delusion and trying to figure out if this shit was really real.

Was she filling each day with laughter, and on the days when he didn’t hear her voice, had his brain rewired itself to focus on joy?

After a quick romp in the living room, he held her against him, listening to her breathe. There was days of this. Fucking turning into passionate sex, cuddling, sharing fears and dreams, her watching him cook.

It was Thursday, and Maximus had forgone his braid appointment to enjoy the final hours with Eden before heading across the country.

“Max,” Eden called, sauntering away from the door with a bag of hair products.

“I’m in the basement,” he called back, his raspiness flowing through the open door.

Following his voice, she found him in the middle of the open area. “What’s this going to be? Your studio?”

“That’s the plan. Being in the studio all night, where I can’t control who’s in or out, don’t sit well with me.”

“I get that. Everyone needs a creative space,” Eden said, looking around the space. “I can’t wait to see what it looks like when it’s done.”

“It’s gon’ be dope.” Maximus glanced down at her. “What’s in the bag?”

“Brushes, spray bottle, oil, and gel. You don’t have anything in here for your hair, and you’re leaving me in a few hours, so...”

“You saying I can’t go like this?”

“Absolutely not,” Eden quipped. “You above a bun? That’s all I have time for, otherwise I'd braid it myself.”

“Never above your hands in this.”

Eden grinned. “Meet me in the living room.”

Maximus didn’t delay. He climbed the stairs behind her. Any chance to be between her legs, sexually or intimately, he took it. Seated on the floor, he closed his eyes while Eden detangled, tamed, and brushed his curls into submission.

“Tell me something,” Eden hummed, as she brushed through the thick strands of hair. “Where did you get all of this hair from?”

He rumbled, pulling himself out of the clutches of sleep.

“My pops. He was a pretty nigga. Trae Way Gangsta from the northside. Nigga used to wear silk shirts and shit. Pull up to the house, cocaine on his nostrils and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. There’s a bunch of us curly-headed niggas running around Waynesville and Hasley. ”

“Ohhh, I see,” Eden buzzed, enthralled with his hair slipping through her fingers.

“He would always cut our hair on the porch so we could look like we belonged to him. I never wanted to look like that nigga, walk like him, talk like him. Nothing. So, I grew it out and let it stay in a big ass ‘fro or braids.”

“I get it. Any plans on getting it braided again?”

“Not if you not doing it, or someone with a license and some got damn decorum,” he muttered.

“I’m almost afraid to ask what happened,” Eden spoke with nervous laughter.

Maximus groaned, recalling being back in Trae Way and hitting up his old connects for services. “People think because I didn’t have pussy for four years I was going to take anything. Shorty braided my hair and then got naked. Damn near begged for me to bend her over. Not the type of shit I’m on.”

It was Eden’s turn to groan.

“Uh uh what the fuck was that?” Maximus quizzed, turning around to look up at her.

“I almost forgot that the possibility of bitches throwing you pussy was high.”

Maximus swayed his head. “It ain’t a possibility. I’m not that nigga.”

“That sounds good, but I’m not going to expect-”

“I could’ve sworn you sat on my dick and told me you weren’t sharing. I’m sure that’s how it went because I keep having flashbacks.”

Eden bit her lip and nodded. “I did.”

“And I told you I wasn’t sharing. They might try to throw that shit but I’m not taking it. I know what I got at home, heard me?”

She could feel her stomach turn inside itself. “Mmhmm. I heard you.”

“Aight,” he buzzed, settling back into position and closing his eyes.

A low bun and a durag tied around his head, Maximus placed her leg over his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You all packed?”

“Almost, but let me just take this in. My last moments of peace before I leave.”

“When you get back, you know where to find me.”

He kissed her knee. “Heard you.”

“Never in my life did I think being heard was as important as you’ve made it.”

“Being heard and understood is the key to great communication. If we start this off right and it goes left, we’ll know where we started.”