Page 14

ROYAL

B efore heading to the studio, I pulled up to my Mama’s house, the neighborhood was quiet, streetlights flickering anticipating the sun to finally fall so they could come on. I walked up to the door, unlocking it with my key before stepping inside.

Immediately, the smell of baked chicken and rice casserole hit me, and I smirked.

It was one of our favorite meals growing up—a struggle meal, but she never made it feel like a struggle.

I walked into the kitchen, finding Queenie perched on a stool, scrolling her phone with a glass of wine in her other hand.

“Smells good in here,” I said, dropping my keys on the counter.

She looked up, smiling. “Boy, I been cooking for you since you was in Pampers. When it ain’t smelled good in here?” I chuckled, walking over to kiss her cheek. She patted my face before pointing at the fridge. “There’s sweet tea in there, if you want some.”

I grabbed a glass, pouring myself some before sitting across from her. “Where’s Princess?” I asked.

“With her lil’ fast-ass friends,” she sighed. “Said she’d be back before curfew, but you know how she is.”

I smirked. “She grown now, Ma.”

“She’s eighteen,” she corrected. “Ain’t a damn thing grown about that.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. She said the same thing about King and me, but she couldn’t stop us from running the streets, doing shit we had no business doing and none of us was stopping Princess.

True to her name, she basically ran us; getting away with a lot of bullshit neither King nor I could get away with.

My mama eyed me over her wine glass. “Where your brother at?”

“Should be meeting me here,” I told her, taking a sip of my tea.

She nodded, setting her phone down. Peering into my eyes, like she was searching for something. “And what about you?”

I frowned. “What about me?”

She smirked, studying me. “You keep looking at me like you got something on your mind. Spit it out, Royal.”

I sighed, leaning back against the chair, rubbing my jaw. I felt stupid as fuck for having a schoolboy crush, but I had to talk to somebody about it and who better than the woman that made me. “I like her,” I admitted.

Queenie’s brows lifted slightly, but she didn’t look surprised. “Who? Averi?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, not surprised she knew exactly who I was talking about, exhaling through my nose.

Queenie had picked up on the vibes early on when she came by the studio and had brought up Averi damn near every time we talked, asking me when I was going to invite her to our family dinner. I wasn’t in a rush to do it, so I kept putting her off.

She leaned forward, elbows on the counter, eyes sharp like she was analyzing me. “So, what’s the problem?” she asked.

“The problem is, we had sex.” I started, shaking my head watching for a reaction but none appeared on Queenie’s face, “And since then, she been running from me. She went to Toronto to visit her friend, one of the other chicks on that show with her.”

“The one got married to that basketball player or the other one that be singing on her Tik Toks all the time?”

“Not the married one, Egypt the one that be singing.” I confirmed and she nodded for me to continue.

“Anyway, since she got back from Toronto, she’s been acting weird.

She in the studio with me, yeah, but she ain’t there—it’s all business and work.

Every time I try to get close to her, she shuts me down. ”

Queenie hummed, tapping her nails against the counter. “Maybe she’s scared Royal.”

“Scared of what?” I asked, confused.

“Scared that you don’t really like her,” she said matter-of-factly. “And you just trying to keep smashing her.”

I frowned. “That don’t even make sense Ma.”

She gave me a knowing look. “Boy who you think you fooling? You got a reputation, Royal. You know damn well you do.” I didn’t argue because she wasn’t wrong. “You ain’t exactly known for settling down,” she continued. “You smash and dash.”

I scowled. “Man, don’t say it like that.”

She raised a brow. “Ain’t that what you do? Having sex with all these fast ass little girls then ghosting them? Do y’all kids still say ghosting? I don’t know chile--” she waved me off.

“Yeah Ma, we still say ghostin’.” I chuckled before I ran a hand down my face. She had a point. But Averi was different. She was the first woman I ever looked at and thought, ‘Damn, I want to keep her around.’

Queenie smirked, watching me closely. “You scared too. I can see it all in your eyes Royal Teegan.”

I scoffed. “Of what?”

“That she got you too open,” she said simply.

I looked away. She was right again. I had plenty of bitches in my life. Famous ones. Regular ones. But none of them felt like this. None of them had me thinking about them when they weren’t around. None of them had me feeling like I had to prove myself.

“Maybe you right.”

Queenie sighed, reaching for my hand. “If you like her baby, then just tell her.”

I exhaled, shaking my head. “What if she don’t feel the same?”

My mama smiled, squeezing my hand. “Then you take that L and keep it pushing. But then again, my love, what if she does?”

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed on the counter. I glanced at the screen, my stomach tightening.

Fulton County Prison.

I inhaled slowly, my jaw clenching. Queenie saw the name and immediately stood up, excusing herself to the bathroom. I waited until she was out of earshot before answering.

“Yo. What up doe?”

“Boy, you finally answer my damn call,” my pops Kingston Sr. said on the other end, his deep voice rough, but warm.

I smirked. “Man, you know I be busy. I been in the studio mostly, tryna finish this album.”

He let out a short laugh. “I know. I see you makin’ moves.”

“Always.”

He sighed. “How’s everybody?”

“King’s good,” I said. “Handling business, makin’ sure the bag straight.”

My pops hummed. “He ain’t answered my calls in a few days.”

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. “You know how he is Pops. Always movin, always handlin shit.”

He was silent for a second. “I get it. Gotta get to the bag by any means.”

I nodded, but deep down, I knew his feelings were hurt. King was the oldest. The one he put the most pressure on. I knew it bothered him that King hadn’t been picking up.

“I’ll make sure he answers for you next time,” I promised.

“Yeah, do that,” he muttered. He shifted gears. “What about my baby girl?”

I smirked. “Princess good. Getting ready for school. She still your spoiled-ass kid, though.”

He chuckled. “That’s my baby.” His tone softened. “You making sure she straight?”

“You already know I am.”

“Good,” he murmured. “She got enough niggas out there waiting on her downfall. You make sure she don’t ever struggle.” I didn’t need the reminder. Princess was my heart, and he knew that. There was another moment of silence, then— “How’s your mama?”

I hesitated, my eyes flickering toward the bathroom just as Queenie walked back into the kitchen. She heard him say her name and immediately shook her head, silently telling me not to put her on the phone.

I swallowed the lump in my throat hating the lie I was about to tell before it exited my mouth. “She good,” I said. “Out running errands.”

He let out a short breath. “She still won’t talk to me?”

I didn’t answer that. Instead, I kept it business. “She good, Pops.”

“Yeah, aight, baby boy. Tell her I love her.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. We said our goodbyes, and I hung up. Queenie exhaled sharply, setting her glass down.

“You can’t avoid him forever,” I muttered.

She lifted her chin, her expression unreadable. “And you can’t keep running from Averi.”

I scoffed. “Not the same thing.”

She arched a brow. “Ain’t it?” I clenched my jaw, staring at her as she smirked, picking up her wine glass. “You talk to her; I’ll talk to him.”

Averi sat across from me, eyes focused on her laptop screen, probably making more damn notes on my music like she always did.

I should’ve been paying attention to the track playing through the speakers, but I wasn’t. I was too busy watching her and thinking about the conversation I’d had with my mama earlier.

I caught myself staring at her lips too long, remembering the way they felt against mine, the way she sounded when she moaned my name, the way they swelled after they’d been perfectly perched around my dick, the way she arched her back when I?—

Nah.

I dragged a hand down my face. Get yo shit together, nigga.

Just then, she closed her laptop and turned toward me. “So…” she started, tapping her nails on the table.

I raised a brow. “So?”

She hesitated, then exhaled. “I got Serenity’s wedding in LA this weekend.”

“I thought she was already married.”

“They are, it’s really a vow renewal.”

I blinked before sarcasm dripped from my mouth. “Okay? That’s cute. What that got to do with me?”

She gave me a look before rolling her eyes. “Do you ever just let a person finish talking?”

I smirked. “Nope.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Anyway, it’s this big ass celebration and what not—” she hesitated and I nodded, wanting her to get to her point.

“And… what?” I asked, watching her carefully. “You tryna invite me?”

She rolled her eyes. “Nigga, don’t flatter yourself.”

I smirked, tilting my head. “Sound like you want me there.”

She scoffed. “You said you had to go to LA to play some tracks for Logan and pick the single—even though I think it should be Westlake Ave?—.”

I leaned back in my chair, studying her. So that’s how she was gonna play it. Act like this was about business. Act like she wasn’t trying to spend time with me outside our normal setting.

I tapped my fingers against my thigh. “Get to the point Averi. What you need a date or something?”

She let out a breath. “I’m saying, since you were gonna be in LA anyway, you might as well come to the wedding with me. Or don’t. I really don’t care.”

Lying-ass.

I smirked, dragging my tongue across my bottom lip.

“Aight, I’ll go.” She blinked, surprised that I agreed so easily.

For a second, she looked like she was about to take the offer back.

I grinned. “Don’t look so shocked, Shawty.

You ain't tryna go alone, I get it. You need Daddy to come to your rescue, I got you.”

She shook her head, muttering, “I really fuckin’ hate you.”

Later that night, I was at the crib throwing shit into a duffle bag when King walked in, arms crossed. He glanced at my half-packed bag, then smirked. “So, you a wedding nigga now?”

I cut my eyes at him. “Nigga, shut yo ugly ass up.”

Zay strolled in behind him, laughing. “Nah, ‘cause I know damn well you ain’t flyin’ across the country to be somebody’s plus one.”

I zipped up my bag, ignoring them.

King shook his head, grinning. “This boyfriend behavior, Ro.”

I grabbed my phone off the dresser scoffing. “Y’all got me fucked up.”

Zay laughed. “Nah, Averi got you fucked up.” I shot him a glare, but he was already doubled over laughing.

King clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Be easy, lil’ bro. Just say you like her and keep it pushin’.”

I moved his hand off me, scowling. “Nigga, I don’t like shit. She needed somebody to go with, so I said I would go with her, plus I’mma meet Logan while I’m there and play him some of the shit I been working on. It’s just business.”

King and Zay exchanged a knowing look shaking their heads before leaving my room.

I grabbed my bag and my phone. I didn’t know why I was scared to admit it to them that I had feelings for Averi.

At this point they already knew and there was no denying it.

Still, I kept up the front that this trip was about business.

Not her.

Soon as we landed, we stopped by her place in downtown LA putting up our bags and freshening up from the long flight before I had to make a stop to see Logan. We had a few days in LA before the wedding and although I had been out here a few times, I wanted to experience things through her eyes.

An hour after getting to her house, freshening up and heading back out, Averi and I pulled up to LA Records.

I could tell she was still trying to act normal—like she wasn’t hyper-aware of the fact that we’d spent five hours sitting next to each other on a plane, making it impossible to ignore the tension between us.

She had barely looked at me the whole flight.

I didn’t press it. She was gonna crack eventually.

Inside the studio, Logan was already waiting for us. He greeted us with a nod, sitting back in his chair, arms crossed. “Lemme hear it.”

I plugged in the USB, hitting play. The beat hit first—smooth, melodic, darker than my usual shit. Then, my voice came through the speakers.

I watched as Logan leaned forward; his expression unreadable as he listened. Averi sat beside me, head bobbing slightly, a small satisfied smirk on her lips. Finally, when the last note faded, Logan exhaled, rubbing his jaw.

“This…” He nodded slowly. “This shit fire.”

I smirked. “Of course it is.”

Logan glanced at Averi lifting a brow. “You definitely did your thing on this.”

She shrugged, pretending like she wasn’t proud of herself. “He did most of it.”

Logan laughed. “That’s a lie.” Averi finally looked at me then—our eyes locking for half a second too long. I watched her lips part, watched her inhale slightly like she was about to say something, but then Logan clapped his hands. “A’ight, let’s finish this shit. I gotta go home to my wife.”