Page 43

Niah gulped, her eyes bouncing between them.

Aku glared at Malik. She wasn’t going to correct him in public, but had a lot to tell him in private.

“Aight,” Malik held his hands up. “I’m just gonna stay over here…do your thing, baby.”

Because some losses didn’t need words.

Aku sat back down, legs crossed, expression smug. “Let’s finish this fitting, shall we?” she said. “We got a look to lock in.” Her body shook, just thinking about the orgasms Malik gave her a few minutes ago.

Malik leaned against the wall like he had all the time in the world. He never even looked at Devin again.

He didn’t have to, ‘cause he was all over Aku—even from a distance.

The sky had been threatening rain since Malik made Aku’s pussy rain, but the clouds never followed through.

Aku sat on the floor in the living room, in her condo. She was laughing at something on her phone, legs crossed, his shirt drowning her frame.

Malik stood at the sliding glass door behind her, holding something small in his palm.

He was nervous. More nervous than he wanted to admit, even to himself.

He’d been planning to give it to her earlier, but when he saw her laughing like that—unguarded and soft—he didn’t wanna interrupt.

Just watched, arms folded, feeling like he was watching the sun rise and set at the same time.

“Why you starin’ like that?” she asked, without looking up. “You got something to say or you just gon’ stand there breathing heavy like a weirdo?”

He smirked. “Got somethin’ for you.”

She finally looked up, brow arched. “For me?”

“Don’t say it like I ain’t got taste.”

“Boy, every time I’ve seen you, you had on that same damn white tee,” she teased, smiling anyway.

“I’m just a Crescent nigga…I can put that shit on though.”

He came over and handed her the small, black velvet box. No logo,. just raw and simple—like him.

“Open it,” he coached, scratching the back of his neck like he had more words than he knew how to say.

Aku opened the box and paused. Her mouth parted, but nothing came out.

Inside was a thick, stunning chain—not gaudy, just bold—weighty without being loud. Hanging from the center was a pendant shaped like a small, warped crescent. Raw silver. Edges imperfect like it had been carved by hand. She touched it lightly and flipped it, revealing an engraving:

You keep me grounded…and still I fall.

Her throat tightened.

“You like it?” he asked, eager to know if he did good or not. Malik had never given a girl a gift before her. Now he wanted to give her the universe if he could.

Her voice caught. “Malik, this is…”

“It’s a real meteorite,” he said, sliding down to sit across from her. “From space, like actual space. You was talkin’ all that ‘fallin into gravity’ shit and I was sittin’ up late thinking about what that even means.”

She blinked hard.

“It means,” he continued, picking the pendant up between his fingers, “you could be anywhere. Floating…untouchable, but something still pulled you back to Earth - to me. And I ain’t even tryna sound poetic, that’s just how it feel.”

She was still quiet, just staring at the most precious gift she’d ever got.

“I ain’t buy this to flex,” he added. “It’s heavy. That’s the point. I wanted you to feel what it feels like to hold somethin’ that got weight. ‘Cause that’s what you been to me. You weight... pure pressure, and I don’t mean that in no corny way. I mean…you anchor me.”

Her bottom lip quivered. “Malik…”

He wasn’t finished though.

“I put a code on the clasp,” he said. “Scan it next time you get on your laptop.”

“What it lead to?”

He shrugged, eyes soft. “A little piece of me.”

She pulled the necklace out, running her fingers along the chain like it had history, like she could feel the care in every inch. “This the most thoughtful gift I ever got.”

He looked away like the compliment made him itch. “It ain’t even about the gift. I just needed you to know—when I say I see you? I feel you, too.”

Aku leaned forward, heart pounding, voice low. “Nobody’s ever said that to me before.”

“Then they ain’t been lookin’ right,” he said, his voice dipped in gravel.

A beat of silence passed.

She slid closer. “You love me?”

Malik inhaled sharply. That question hit him like a swing to the chest. He knew love, his people loved him, but something about the differences in love made him second guess if he knew how to love her in the way he felt she was accustomed too.

The love of his people was hard, sharp, jagged, but love nonetheless. Loving Aku felt soft, serene, and safe.

“I don’t know what this kind of love supposed to look like,” he admitted, eyes locked on hers. “But I know gravity, and you it.” He licked his lips. “But to answer your question, hell yea, I love your lil ass…even if you forced me to do it.”

She slapped his arm, laughing. “I didn’t force you!” Aku squealed.

Malik got serious. “You happy with me though?”

Seeing him get serious, made her get serious. Straddling his lap, Aku grabbed his face. “Hey…” she examined. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” he grinned. “Just wanna know if you happy with me cause I know I ain’t like him.”

Her head angled. “Who? Devin?”

Lazily, his shoulders shrugged. “I know you used to all the finer shit in life and I just gave you somethin’ that ain’t a diamond…just tryna see if you really cool with what I bring.”

“Malik.” Aku pecked his lips. “I ain’t that vain…

and love don’t come with dollar signs. I told you I’m gon’ give you legacy—help you create it too—you ain’t him ‘cause you’re him .

I love you even if you’re broke but trust, you won’t be forever…

I’m the closer. I’ll get you in the right rooms… be the secret weapon in your arsenal.”

“Damn,” he whispered as a tear slipped from his eyes. “If I ain’t know what love was before that…I do now.”

“On the muthafuckin’ gang,” Aku laughed, falling into him. “Love me good.”

“I’ll love you better,” Malik grabbed her, pulling her tightly against his chest.

“Talk yo shit, Black man.”

The rain didn’t fall, it hummed, pelting down with a rhythm like it was trying to sing Malik and Aku to sleep—low, warm and steady against the glass walls.

LA moved slow when it was wet. Streetlights blurred into soft halos.

Tires hissed instead of screeched. Inside, the air smelled like sandalwood and something sweet Malik could never quite name but always associated with her.

They were tangled on her plush white velvet couch now, barefoot and full from the meal she threw together while dancing in the kitchen. Her legs were thrown across his lap, toes pretty.

Music played low, switching from LA hood shit to love songs that seemed to play their love’s soundtrack.

Malik wasn’t saying much. In his head. His thumb stroked the inside of her knee. Her hand was resting on his chest, right where his heartbeat lived. She was watching the rain. He was watching her.

“Ain’t no place I’d rather be,” she whispered.

He just grunted, pulling her a little closer. “You so damn dramatic.”

“Shut up,” she smiled. “I’m being sentimental.”

“I like it when you get like that. Soft ass.”

“Mm hmm. Keep playin’ and big Mama gon’ come out.”

They both laughed, just listening to Beyonce now talking about her hood nigga—appreciating who he was and where he came from. Aku could relate.

After a while, Malik shifted, trying to find his voice to say what he’d been thinking about since he found himself laid up in the hospital.

“I’m takin’ the meeting,” he blurted.

Aku blinked, pulling her eyes from the window. “What meeting?”

“The one Zaire set up. Them hedge fund tech niggas.”

She raised a brow. “You for real?”

He nodded. “They flyin’ me up to San Fran, wanna talk buyout.”

A pause stretched between them. She didn’t say what she really wanted to say—not yet. She knew Malik - knew his pride was loud and his hope even louder. She didn’t want to kill neither.

“I just wanna see,” he said, before she could speak, “see what they on. See if it’s somethin’ that make sense.”

“Do you think it does?”

Malik rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Not really, but…” he looked at her then, like the rest of the sentence lived in her eyes. “I be thinkin’ ‘bout us.”

She swallowed.

“I don’t just wanna be the hood nigga with a dream.

I wanna do something. Give you something real.

I want you dripped in whatever you want—pearls, rubies, diamonds, whatever.

I want us to take trips on a Tuesday just ‘cause. I wanna see you pregnant and not stressin’ over shit except what color the nursery gon’ be. ”

He paused, hoping he was saying the right shit, hoping it was coming out right. “I wanna deserve you.”

Her hand slid up to his cheek. “You already do.”

“You say that now?—”

“I mean it now. You buildin’ - that matters. You love me - that matters.”

His throat worked like it hurt to swallow. “I just feel like…I don’t wanna be the reason you ever feel stuck.”

“You saved me, Malik. You don’t even get it.” Her voice cracked. “You the first man that made me feel like home was a person.”

He stared at her like she was the prayer he didn’t even realize he needed answered. Then he kissed her. Both hands cupping her face like he had to hold her to keep from falling into her.

When they pulled apart, she said, “Don’t sell it unless it feels right. Don’t take nothin’ that wants to change your app into some watered-down bullshit.”

“They already asked if I’d be open to rebranding. Said the name ‘Plugged In’ was too coded.”

Aku blinked. “Coded for who ? The culture?!”

He laughed. “That’s what I said. I told them I ain’t changin’ it…told them Crescent made me.”

“See, you already know what to do.”

“But, if they got a check with enough zeros?—”

“Then we write our own check with the right respect on it. Malik, you’re worth more than they even know. You gon’ have a billion-dollar company one day. You don’t need them to tell you that - just build that shit.”

Malik grinned. “Look at you, tryna be my spiritual advisor now.”

She shrugged. “I’ve been that. You late.”

He leaned back again, pulling her with him. “You better not leave me once I’m up.”

“You up now, baby,” she smiled, curling into him. “I’m up…you ain’t know?”

“Hmmm,” he hummed. “You love me?”

She nodded. “Too much.”

“I love you too, Dorothy.”

Her chest tightened. “Then love me. No excuses. No backtracking. No trying to protect me from your shadows. Just…let me be light.”

He closed his eyes. “That’s all I want.”

They lay there, quiet again, but it wasn’t empty - it was full. Full of the future they hadn’t named out loud, but had already started building with every look…every touch, every time they didn’t walk away.

Rain tapped like soft applause against the glass.

He kissed the side of her face. “I’m still gon’ buy you some dumb, expensive shit one day.”

“I already got the most expensive thing on the planet,” she mumbled into his hoodie.

“What’s that?”

“Your heart.”

Aku rested her head on his shoulder. “No matter what happens tomorrow, I need you to know I’m proud of,” her throat clogged. “So fuckin’ proud of you.”

Malik had never been poured into like this before.

Not by no woman…not like this. It was like every time Aku opened her mouth, she spoke life into him.

The kind that touched places he didn’t even know were starving.

Affirmation wasn’t just her love language—it was her instinct.

She made him feel seen - whole. Like he was more than the bruises and the hustle and the past that wouldn’t let go.

And when she said Black man ? That shit hit different. Like a blessing. Like a crown. Like she was reminding him of who he was and who he could be—all in the same breath. It didn’t just boost him. It charged him. Gave him superpowers he didn’t know he had.

“What should I wear?”

“Something blue,” she laughed, wiping her face. “I’ve been so damn emotional lately.”

“Been? Oh, you ain’t always emotional?”

Aku pinched him. “Don’t play with me, Malik.”