Inhale.
Exhale.
Like we’re sharing the same air.
The ceiling fan turns above me, just like the nights before. Same room. Same bed. The difference is Luna.
And for the first time in a long while, I drift off without needing anything else.
The next morning, Neo rolls into town in a yellow metallic Corvette Z06. The V-8 engine roars like it’s making an announcement. Kendrick Lamar vibrates the pavement. Hardtop down, shades on, cornrows freshly braided.
Subtle has never been his ministry.
“Can’t do anything on the low,” I say when he kills the engine.
“No fun in that, bro.” He hops out and pulls me into a hug. “Wanna take her for a spin?”
“Damn straight. Is it a rental?”
“Yep. Thinking about buying one.” He pats the hood with affection. “Price tag ain’t for the weak, but you only live once.”
Not exactly my philosophy. But who am I to argue?
I slide into the driver’s seat and steer us toward an empty stretch of road. Then I open throttle. The acceleration presses my back into the leather. Smooth power. Responsive. Built for that wow factor.
“What do you think?” he asks. “Sexy, right?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
On the way back, he asks about my job.
“It’s not the pace I’m used to. Much smaller campaign. But it’s good… helping me balance.”
“That’s great, man,” he says with relief. I can imagine I’m the talk at home.
“How’s the betting business?” I ask about his newest venture.
“It’s picking up steam.” He adjusts his sunglasses. “Not Vegas-level, but Chicago’s sitting at number three now in the nation. Promising.”
We chat about our work and the family. About Gogo’s upcoming eightieth birthday and gift ideas.
When we arrive at the house, he scans the living room. “Nice. Modern. Needs color, though.”
“You’re an interior decorator now?”
“You know I likes to dabble. Decorating the houses I rent taught me a few things. If you want the sibling discount, I got you.”
“I’m good. Not looking for mirrors on the ceiling and bearskin rugs.”
He smirks. “Sensuality is the spice of life.”
“Agreed. I just prefer substance over show.”
“You calling me shallow?” He thrusts a finger at his chest.
“If the shoe fits”
“Shiit. Forget you, man.” He laughs. “I’m guessing Luna is substance.”
