Page 59 of All In

Jackie called him over and handed him the phone, and instantly his whole body lit up.

“As-salamu alaykum!” Fat Daddy grinned. “Wa alaikum salaam,” Najee replied, and Jackie caught the small smile that softened his face when he said it. “Dr. Najee, what you doing up this early? And where Dr. Ish? You know it’s Saturday. School closed!” Fat Daddy came at him with questions back-to-back, no breath in between, mouth running a mile a minute. That pulled a real laugh from Najee, the kind that didn’t feel measured or controlled. Jackie watched them for a second as Max walked off with her phone, giving Najee a full tour of the field like it belonged to him. “Don’t go past that tree!” she called after him, then leaned back against the hood, trying hard not to overthink why this man wanted her location, and why she felt so compelled to give it to him.

Thirty minutes later, one of those Minister Farrakhan-looking brothers that Najee and Cash always seemed to have on speed dial pulled up like it was a delivery for a diplomat. He popped the trunk and started loading her back seat with bags like it was Thanksgiving. Jackie blinked, stunned. Najee sent enough food to feed the team. Turkey bacon, beef bacon, vegan sausage, turkey sausage, eggs, grits, home fries, hash browns, waffles, pancakes. Protein bars. Orange juice. Water. A mini case of Gatorade. Fresh fruit. A throw blanket. Sock warmers. Hand warmers. He even sent a cooler packed with lunch too. Jackie was at a loss for words. She just watched the brother shut her back door gentle, nodded once, and drove off like this was regular. She turned the phone back to her face, eyes wide.

“Najee… you didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” he replied. Jackie blinked.

“Then who did you do it for?” she asked, sarcasm coming out because it was safer than letting him see how much it meant to her. “Max?”

“Didn’t do it for Max either.”

“So if you didn’t do it for me, and youdidn’tdo it for Max, Jackie paused. Who could you have possibly done it for?” Jackie asked, trying her best to hide the blush that crept across her face.

“For me,” he said, trying and failing to keep a straight face. Jackie opened her mouth, just as Najee propped the phone up. Then he pulled his shirt off. Sweat still glistened against caramel skin and inked muscle, Jackie had to look away, fast, because if she didn’t…She would’ve told him to angle that camera a little lower. “Anyway,” she said, staring up at the sky like it had answers.

“You were saying?” Najee’s mouth curved. “I did it so I could have a good day,” he said evenly “And I wouldn’t have had a good day, if I didn’t know y’all was having one too. His eyes held hers through the screen. And y’all couldn’t have had one, if y’all weren’t equipped. Now I know y’all have everything,” he continued. “I can now enjoy my day. Selfishly.” Jackie tried not to be affected by his words, but it was too late. “Thank you,” she said, a small smile slipping through anyway. He nodded. “Anytime.” They held each other’s gaze a second longer before Max’s voice cut through the moment. “Oooh, Ma! We got pancakes and waffles!” Jackie turned just as he popped open the platters, excitement written all over his face. “I know you better grab that hand sanitizer,” she called out, snapping right back into mom mode. Najee’s laugh pulled her attention back to the screen.

“I’m sorry,” she said, laughing softly. “He was over there about to violate.”

“Nah, I get it,” he replied. Their eyes met again, something quieter bloomed between them this time. “Call me when you get home.” Jackie tilted her head, a small smile playing at her lips.

“You asking or telling me?” she said, her tone lighter than before. Najee’s mouth curved just slightly. “What I just say?” Her eyes held his. “Call… when I get home,” she said softly. His gaze didn’t move. “Atta girl.” Jackie rolled her eyes, the corner of her mouth twitching.

“Bye, Najee,” she said, ending the call.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

KORMIA

A few hours before…

Kormia had been so drunk the night before… she overslept and missed every single appointment.

Not one.

Not two.

Every. Single. One.

She spent most of the morning crouched over the toilet, throwing up everything she’d eaten in the last forty-eight hours—and maybe a little bit of her pride too. She already knew she was going to regret two things:drinking on an empty stomach and going to Wheezy’s party.

Kormia had every intention of sitting this year out. Especially because they weren’t even together. The streets didn’t know that, but they did. And quite frankly, she was tired of being attached to his cheating ass. Still… Wheezy believed inoptics.And because he made sure, she was straight financially, Kormia played the role. She knew how to pose. Knew how to smile. But more importantly, she knew how to look like a trophy. But this year? Even that felt exhausting. So, the plan had been simple: skip the party, blame it on bad sushi, stay in, and practice new nail designs. And she was doing exactly that. Until she madethe mistake of opening Instagram. That’s when she landed on Wheezy’s busted-ass baby mom’s story. Of course, the video quality was ashy. Probably shot on some old Android with a cracked screen. But what caught Kormia’s attention wasn’t the resolution.It was the outfit.

On the surface, she wouldn’t have blinked at the dingy little Fashion Nova fit laid out on the bed like it was couture. But then she did a little more digging… and found a TikTok text post:OMW 2 watch the BD blow out his candles… #sectionshit.“I know you fucking lying,” Kormia muttered. And honestly? That was all it took. Before she even realized it, she wasactivated.Kormia threw on a bra, grabbed her keys, sped to Jackie’s house, and pulled together a look in the eleventh hour like it was Fashion Week. She knew it was petty. Knew she would probably regret it. But she had to remind this hoe…Once my nigga, always my nigga.It was a little after midnight when Kormia finally pulled up, dressed to kill, hair laid, body bodying. And of course, Wheezy rolled out the red carpet for her like she was royalty. He had the biggest section in the club. Low-key, she should’ve felt on top of the world.Should’ve.Instead… she felt like akeptdummy. Wheezy had all his bitches—new and old— in attendance, seated in various sections around the club like they had assigned seating.

The old Kormia would’ve been embarrassed. Or at leastpissed.The old her would’ve set fire to the rain and started an-all-out brawl in that bitch. But now? She was so checked out of the relationship, she didn’t even care enough to make a scene. And that scared her more than the disrespect. Because she wasn’t jealous. She wasbored.

Meanwhile, the man she actually wanted was in the section across from them. With Malaya. Not paying her an ounce of attention. Newdy’s section was low-key, tucked in the cut. He didn’t have a bunch of bitches or even a ridiculous number ofbottles. Yet every stepper in the city made it their business to stop through, dap him up, and show respect. Malaya was posted beside him, trying her hardest to giveTasha St. Patrick. That’s if Tasha wore tacky mall jewelry and thick-ass lace.

Still… raggedy lace-front and all, Malaya was the one sitting beside him. And that bothered Kormia more than it should’ve. Kormia hadn’t really crossed paths with Newdy since that night everything went left with Cleo. Yeah, she saw him on the block. Yeah, he replaced the awning on her shop because it was raggedy. But outside of that? That man hadn’t even looked her way. And it didn’t help that he and Nurse Ratchet seemed to be getting more serious. Malaya was pulling up to his shop two, three, sometimes four, times a week. Watching him posted in his section with her tonight? That hit harder than Wheezy’s entire harem ever could. Because the truth was… Wheezy didn’t move her anymore. Newdy did. That realization sat heavy in her chest. But instead of sitting in it, Kormia reached for the 1942. And poured. Then poured some more. Because it was easier to be drunk than to admit she was pressed over a man who wasn’t even checking for her. She was reaching for her second bottle when she felt it.Eyes.Newdy’s.He didn’t smile. Didn’t nod. Barely acknowledged her. He just looked, bored and unimpressed. Like she was exactly where he expected her to be. And that shit burned. And rather than unpack it? Shedrank.

Until the lights blurred, her thoughts dulled, and she didn’t feel anything at all. And now here she was. Sick to her stomach. On the cold tile floor of her salon bathroom. Vomiting up tequila and ego… wishing she’d never even stepped foot in that party.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

KORMIA