Dolly Parton's Do I Ever Cross Your Mind? drifted through the speakers of Kelly's sleek black Mercedes as he cruised toward Treon's penthouse. The song, soft and nostalgic, echoed the thoughts swirling in his head. He was finally ready to make amends with his brother and hand-deliver the bestselling gift he'd picked out weeks ago. Treon didn't know he was coming—Kelly wanted it to be a surprise.
The city shimmered under the late morning sun as Kelly pulled up to Treon's upscale building. The glass facade reflected the sky like a mirror. After parking, he stepped out and handed the keys to the valet, who blinked twice in shock.
Kelly chuckled, offering a casual wave. Must be new, he thought. The regular staff already knew him well—his visits weren't unusual. He made his way inside, exchanging a polite "hello" with the blushing receptionist before heading straight to the private elevator.
The soft ding of the elevator doors opening was immediately drowned out by bass-heavy music—Young M.A's Off the Yak blasted from the speakers as Kelly stepped into the familiar space. Treon's penthouse had the same clean, minimalist vibe as always: black leather furniture, sleek decor, and cream-colored walls that gave the space a polished, masculine feel.
"Somebody BM hit my DM, I had to leave her on seen…" Kelly sang along under his breath, walking toward the living area.
Treon was lounging in a bold red recliner, draped in a barber's apron, clearly mid-haircut. His eyes met Kelly's—and promptly narrowed. He rolled his eyes and scowled.
"Hey," Kelly greeted, offering a tight-lipped smile.
Treon reached for his phone and lowered the music volume with a few taps. "What do you want, Kelly?"
"I want us to talk." Kelly's voice was calm but steady. His eyes flicked to the barber, who had just re-entered from the hallway. The guy wasn't the usual barber Treon used. He looked young, maybe fresh on the job, and his eyes briefly widened at the sight of Kelly.
But the man was smart—he immediately picked up on the tension in the room and masked his excitement.
"I'm done anyways," the barber said quickly. He removed the apron from Treon's shoulders and folded it neatly before packing it away with the rest of his gear.
"See you later, boss," he said, earning a brief nod from Treon. As he passed Kelly, the man couldn't help but murmur, "Chef K," with quiet enthusiasm before stepping into the elevator and disappearing from view.
"So what?" Treon questioned, arching a brow at his brother. Without waiting for an answer, he pushed himself off the recliner and strode toward the storage room. Moments later, he returned with a broom and dustpan and began sweeping up the hair scattered across the tiled floor, his movements brisk and tight with irritation.
"Look man, I'm sorry—" Kelly began, his voice low.
Treon cut him off with a harsh edge. "Sorry about what exactly? Ignoring your family? Or leaving before my party ended?" He emptied the dustpan into the bin with a rough clatter.
Kelly sighed, his shoulders sagging as he watched Treon drop back onto the couch. "Both. See, I realized that you were right about what you said. Jane was nothing but a manipulative bitch."
Treon froze mid-shift. His eyes shot open in disbelief. That word coming from Kelly—especially about Jane—was unthinkable. The Kelly he knew had defended her to the bone.
"I broke up with her," Kelly continued, settling into the armchair across from him, his tone drained but firm.
"Hold up. Because of what I said?" Treon asked, still trying to catch up.
Kelly rolled his eyes. "You're talking like you weren't even right about what you said."
"I know I'm right, but if we both recall correctly, when I told you, you didn't believe it. And I know how much you love her," Treon said, brows pinched.
"Loved, brother, loved." Kelly corrected softly, then leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Do you know she threatened to kill herself on the day of your party if I didn't come home?"
"What?"
"That was why I left. And when I got home, she was just there sipping wine." Kelly's face twisted in disgust at the memory.
"The fuck?"
"Jane is really crazy. She accused me of cheating on her, saying I kept our relationship private because I have side bitches."
"Now that's absurd. I know you play around, but when you're with someone, you're loyal to them. Jane's a psycho."
"She never even compromised for me for one day. Fuck—" Kelly rubbed his face with both hands. "I can't believe I didn't see it all these while. I was blinded by so-called love. Because of Jane, I hurt you all. I'm sorry, Trey, I'm really sorry. I've learned the hard way."
A heavy silence settled between them. The kind of silence that felt like it was holding its breath.
Then Treon muttered, "Hmm. It's a'ight."
Kelly tilted his head slightly. "You sure?"
Treon nodded. "Yeah. You broke up with the cause of everything, so yeah, it's all good."
Kelly let out a small breath, the tightness in his chest easing. He offered a smile. "Thank you. I got you something." He pulled out his phone and tapped quickly before looking back up. "Check your phone."
"What?" Treon asked, his brow furrowed as he turned to his phone, just as it chimed.
"A gift for becoming a bestselling author," Kelly said.
Treon blinked at the screen. He read it once. Then again. His eyes widened in stunned disbelief.
"You got me a meeting with Germaine Blur?" he said, barely above a whisper. The name alone sent a jolt through him. Germaine Blur—the literary ghost. A legend. A recluse who never appeared in public, let alone met with fans, especially not celebrities. Treon had sent email after email over the years and never heard back. But now—this.
"Yo. How?" Treon asked, voice cracked with emotion, his eyes suddenly a little glossy.
"I have my ways. Besides, I know how much you've been dying to meet him, so I pulled some strings," Kelly said with a shrug, downplaying the effort.
"Thanks, man," Treon said, a real, grateful smile spreading across his face. It was the kind of smile that crinkled his eyes.
Kelly shook his head. "Nah, thank you for calling me out on my shit."
Treon chuckled. "It's all good, bro." He looked back down at his phone, still stunned. "It's real, bro. It's real."
Kelly grinned. "It's real."
Treon laughed again and stood, walking into the kitchen. He grabbed two drinks—a cold beer for himself and non-alcoholic wine for Kelly, knowing full well his brother didn't drink.
"Now enough with all this sappy shit. What's been happening?" he asked as he poured the drinks.
Kelly took the glass with a quick nod. "Thanks." He took a sip. "Bruh, nothing much. Been working and babysitting Raymond and Cody."
"Yeah, Dani mentioned." Treon nodded, taking a slow sip of his beer, his gaze momentarily drifting toward the muted television.
"So—" they both started at once, then broke into laughter at the overlap.
"You first," Treon said with an easy grin, lifting his beer again.
"A'ight, so who was the stunning blonde you met the other day? The one I saw you with when I picked you up from the airport?" Kelly asked, his tone casual, but his eyes watched his brother closely.
Treon's body stiffened—not enough to draw attention, but just enough to be noticed by someone who knew him well. A beat passed before he composed himself and lifted his beer again, almost too casually.
"That's Emily. We grew up together. She was Dani's best friend," Treon replied flatly, eyes on the label of his drink.
Kelly nodded, feigning neutrality. "Oh, nice. 'Cause I've met her. We've spoken."
Treon choked mid-sip, coughing violently. His shoulders hunched as he tried to catch his breath.
"You good?" Kelly asked, brows lifted in concern.
"Yeah, yeah." Treon coughed again, waving it off with a hand. "You said you've spoken to Emily?" He blinked, clearly trying to mask his disbelief.
"Yup," Kelly said, popping the 'p' as he leaned back slightly on the chair. "After I saw you with her, I saw Dani talking to her at Wood-Shaw Daycare. I asked Dani about her but nah, she didn't give me a straight answer. Then I and Dani ran into her at your party, and then I ran into her twice at the park. The first encounter at the park, she assaulted me."
"She assaulted you?" Treon's brows shot up.
"Yeah, she thought I was trying to harm Lala."
"Who is Lala?" Treon's forehead wrinkled in confusion.
"Ayla, her daughter. I call her Lala though."
Treon tilted his head slightly, a skeptical hum slipping out as he took another drink. A flicker of concern passed through his eyes—like he was trying to figure out if his brother was serious or just spiraling again.
"Yeah, the second encounter at the park, we had a small conversation where I might've or might not have told her that I wanted to know more about her."
Treon gave him a long, unblinking look. "You what?"
"In my defense, she's fucking beautiful, alright? And she feels so familiar—like I've known her before." Kelly's voice lowered, a thread of confusion threading beneath the attraction.
"You tell her you're interested in her after meeting her for what—five times?"
"I omitted the part where I kinda scolded her for coming late to pick up Lala."
"Dude, what the fuck?" Treon scowled, leaning back as if trying to distance himself from the chaos.
"I know, I know. And she called me out for it. She told me she's confused 'cause I've been nothing but cold to her, and suddenly I wanna know about her. And she called me weird."
"She's right, you're weird," Treon muttered, siding with Emily without hesitation.
Kelly laughed, a dry sound, running a hand through his curls. "Yo, but for real—what should I do?"
"You want my honesty?" Treon asked. Kelly nodded without hesitation.
"Go and get laid. Fuck some bitches or something, and leave Emily and her daughter alone," Treon said, blunt and unfiltered.
"What?" Kelly stared at him, genuinely shocked.
"You just got out of a toxic relationship, Kelly. Release some steam. Leave Emily and her daughter alone."
Kelly leaned back, lips tightening slightly. After a long pause, he nodded slowly. "Yeah, you're right."
Treon softened a bit, letting the moment settle. "So, how's therapy? And your memories?"
Kelly looked down at his beer, turning it slightly in his hands. "Therapy's good. My memories haven't come back. It's been nine years, bro."
"It's a gradual process, Kel. You'll get them back little by little."
"I hope so."
There was a stretch of silence between them. Not awkward—just weighty. The kind brothers share when there's too much unsaid.
"Hey, how about we hit the club? You know, release some steam," Treon suggested, nudging Kelly's shoulder lightly.
"Nah, man. I gotta meet up with someone," Kelly lied, already pulling out his phone under the counter.
"A lady?" Treon raised a brow, curious.
"Yeah. And I might take your advice on releasing steam tonight." Kelly grinned, a hint of mischief returning to his voice.
"Ouu, I see you." Treon smirked, raising his bottle in a toast.
"A'ight, I gotta go now, but we'll definitely hit the club this week or next," Kelly said, sliding off the barstool.
"I'll hold you to it."
"A'ight, man. Be safe." Kelly gave him a nod before heading for the elevator.
Outside the penthouse, the cool night air brushed his skin as he fished his phone from his pocket. He didn't even think—just tapped the first number that came to mind.
It rang twice.
"Hello?" Her sultry voice came through, equal parts surprise and flirtation.
"Hey Lauren, do you wanna hang out?" he asked, and he could swear he heard the subtle hitch in her breath.
***
Emily lay sprawled across her bed, one leg draped off the edge, her body unable to settle. The silence in the house felt heavier than usual—Ayla was at her aunt Cara's, which should've been a welcome break. But instead of peace, there was an odd emptiness.
She exhaled sharply and sat up, the sheets rustling beneath her. Padding barefoot to the kitchen, she opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and took a few long gulps. The cold hit her throat, but did nothing to ease the restlessness in her chest.
The feeling was too familiar.
Confused. Horny. Lost.
She hated how the ache crept in like this, uninvited. Ever since William passed, this mix of grief and yearning had become her norm—a cocktail of emotions that made her feel unmoored.
The sudden chime of the doorbell snapped her out of her thoughts.
She blinked and glanced at the clock. 2 p.m. on a Sunday. Who would be dropping by? With a sigh—maybe the fifth or sixth that day—she dragged her feet to the front door. Peeking through the peephole, she relaxed slightly.
Just Dani.
A small smile tugged at her lips as she opened the door.
"Hey girl," Dani greeted brightly, pulling her into a quick hug.
"Hey, Dani," Emily murmured, her tone more muted—something Dani clocked instantly.
"What's up? Why do you sound down? Where's Ayla?" Dani rattled off, slipping inside.
Emily chuckled despite herself. "Ayla's at Cara's. She'll be back this evening."
The two sank into the couch, the cushions sighing beneath them.
"Okay? So why the long face?" Dani asked, turning to study her more closely.
Emily hesitated before answering, "I'm just tired."
"About what?"
"I don't know," she mumbled, eyes drifting to the ceiling.
Dani raised an eyebrow. "What is the matter, Em?"
"Promise me you won't laugh?" Emily said, already regretting bringing it up.
"I promise," Dani replied, her curiosity piqued.
Emily took a breath, bracing herself. "Okay, so, I'm uh... I'm frustrated."
"Okay? And why would I laugh if you're frustrated?"
Emily groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Sexually frustrated, Dani."
Dani's eyes widened. "Oh shit." Then she burst into laughter.
Emily let out a muffled whine behind her hands.
"Okay, sorry, sorry," Dani said quickly, holding up both hands in surrender as her laughter faded.
"We're gonna hit the club," she announced with sudden determination.
"Not today, Dani. Ayla will be home soon," Emily replied with a frown.
"Call Cara and tell her to have Ayla for the night—"
"She has daycare tomorrow," Emily interjected.
"I know. Raymond has daycare tomorrow too, but I'm not home. Robbie isn't either," Dani said with a shrug.
"Then where is he?" Emily's head whipped toward her, brows furrowed in concern.
Dani laughed at her sudden panic. "He's with Liv and his grandparents."
"Oh."
"Yeah, so Ayla can spend the night at Cara's place. Little J.J. will keep her company, and you'll see her tomorrow."
Emily sat back, considering. The thought of letting go, just for one night, was tempting.
"Fine," she exhaled, finally giving in.
"Yay!" Dani squealed, throwing her hands up. Emily rolled her eyes but couldn't help the ghost of a smile on her lips.
"You do have a dress my size, right?" Dani asked, casually eyeing her own outfit—sweats that somehow still looked stylish. Emily only just realized her friend had probably come with the night in mind all along.
With another exaggerated eye roll, she muttered, "Yeah, I do."
Dani smirked, already victorious. "It's about to go down."