Page 236 of Kentrell

“Man, why you playin’?” he teased, a grin on his face like he was ready to scoop me up and get back to his usual jokes. But the second his eyes landed on mine, the smile faded.

In that split second, I could see the shift in him. The way he clocked every detail—my wet cheeks, my blotchy skin, the tremble still lingering in my bottom lip.

“My mom called,” I blurted, my voice cracking, the confession tumbling out before he even had a chance to ask me what was wrong.

Without hesitation, he pulled me in tighter, tucking my head into his chest like he’d been preparing for this moment all day. I cried again—not full-blown sobs like before, but just enough to empty out the last little pieces still sitting on my heart.

He didn’t say a word. Just stood there, holding me, rocking me slightly, like the weight of me in his arms was nothing.

When I finally pulled back, sniffling and laughing through my tears, I tilted my head up to look at him. “I’m okay,” I whispered, my lip still wobbling as I spoke. “And I’m not lying.”

His jaw twitched at that, like he wanted to call me out but didn’t.

“A’ight,” was all he said, staring down at me like he was still taking mental notes.

I took a long breath and stepped back fully, crossing my arms tight over my chest to stop myself from falling apart again. My head felt a little woozy, but I blinked through it, determined to hold it together.

“Man… you not okay,” Kentrell mumbled, shaking his head as he scooped me up like it was nothing, cradling me bridal style in his arms.

“Kentrell!” I gasped, laughing despite myself as he started carrying me out of the media room, up the basement’s soft berber carpet steps like I didn’t weigh a thing.

“C’mon, ma. You hungry?” he asked, planting a soft kiss against my temple like it was second nature.

“No,” I said, snuggling into his chest anyway, already knowing what was coming next.

“What you eat today?”

I sighed, feeling sheepish. “I made ramen… and ate a bunch of snacks.”

He shot me a look like I was a five-year-old who’d gotten caught sneaking cookies before dinner. “That ain’t no real meal.”

The way he said it—gruff, borderline scolding—made me smile. Sounded more like somebody’s daddy than my man, but I wasn’t mad at it.

He carried me straight down the main hall and into the kitchen, setting me gently on one of the island barstools. That’s when I noticed the brown takeout bag waiting on the counter.

“Thai!” I squealed, bouncing a little on the barstool as I read the name of the restaurant on the bag.

Kentrell smirked, pulling out container after container like he already knew what would make me act this ridiculous.

“Pad See Ew… chicken satay… wait, is that Tom Yum?” I gasped, popping open one of the lids and letting the spicy lemongrass steam hit my face. “And you got crab rangoons? Oh my God. Who even told you I love these?”

He shrugged, cocky and smug. “I pay attention.”

“Oh, honey, you make me feel so loved!” I sang, grinning wide as I snatched open another container. I didn’t even wait for him to pull my chopsticks out of the bag. Manners? For what? I just used my fingers and dug in like my life depended on it.

I was in a whole world of my own—filling my belly, stealing kisses from my man between bites, and peppering him with questions about his day. Because honestly… I’d had enough ofmyday for the rest of the week.

“You wanna watch yo lil’ show?” he asked once we finished, wiping his hands as he started clearing the containers from the island.

I narrowed my eyes, giving him the full force of my playful glare. “You know what it’s called.”

He smirked, tossing napkins into the trash as he worked.

“Say it.” I pointed a dramatic finger at him, daring him to front like he didn’t know.

He chuckled low. “It’s cool…”

“No. Tell me you like it.” I crossed my arms, refusing to let him slide into his usual smooth, noncommittal Kentrell-isms.

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