Page 119 of Falling Into Gravity

“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’rehim. 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 hissedinstead 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 wannadosomething. 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.”

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