Page 212 of Kentrell

“Fasho.”

Wani clapped his hands together, still grinning like a damn fool. “Now that that’s over… where she at?”

I blinked. “Who?”

“Zoe, nigga—fuck, is you slow?”

“She sleep.”

“Aw, she sleep now, huh?” Wani cut his eyes at me like I was lying.

I smirked and shrugged. “It’s two in the afternoon.”

“We had a long night,” I added with no apology in my tone.

“Yeah… I bet you did,” Oshon mumbled, still grinning.

Kensei didn’t say much—just sat there scrolling on his phone, looking amused like this was his favorite episode of family drama and he wasn’t about to miss a second of it.

I sighed, dragging my hand down my beard, already feeling the headache brewing behind my eyes. “Look… appreciate y’all for coming to check in. For real. But she finally getting some rest, and I ain’t tryna disrupt that.”

“Cool,” Wani said, nodding like he was gonna let it go. I should’ve known better. He sunk deeper into the couch, got real comfortable… then grinned.

“Go get her.”

I stared at him like he’d lost his damn mind. “Nigga, what?”

“Go. Get. Her.” He dragged it out, slow and petty, making the rest of them laugh like we were filming a sitcom.

“She’s sleep.”

“She a grown-ass woman. She can wake up.”

Oshon and Wave were already chuckling under their breath. Kensei finally looked up from whatever he was scrolling on hisphone and added, “Might as well let him see her, bro. You know he not leaving until he do.”

I looked around the room. All of them kicked back like this was their spot. Shoes off. Drinks poured. One of them lit incense—probably Kensei with his holistic ass. The place smelled like sandalwood and trouble.

I muttered under my breath, “Y’all ain’t shit.”

Wani just grinned wider. “Love you too, big bro.”

I was failing miserably at getting them out of my house, and I knew damn well Zoe was probably upstairs, anxious as hell, sitting in my bed with the security tablet in her lap, watching this circus unfold in real-time.

And like he could read my mind?—

“ZOE!” Wani suddenly yelled, cupping his hands like we were at a block party. “Come downstairs, ma! How you gon’ meet the guys before me?!”

Zoe probably jumped out her skin at that, but Wani wasn’t done.

“I ain’t get to meet her either,” Wave tossed in like he had a valid point, cutting Wani a dirty look for trying to call dibs.

Oshon folded over laughing. “Yo ass onnat shit!”

“Aye, nigga—chill,” I growled, my voice dropping an octave, already warning them.

“Bitch—” Wani spun toward me, dead serious in the face now. “I don’t know why you actin’ like Kevin Costner. She ain’t Whitney Houston and you not The Bodyguard!”

My jaw locked so tight I could feel the vein in my neck throbbing.

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