Page 149 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

And if we ever have twins, I’d make sure they were better than their mother and aunt. Even better than me and their uncle.

They’d stick together, no matter what, so that they’d never know what it’s like to live without their other half.

You can’t control shit like that, Rick. No matter how much you want to.

I tell my brother to shut the fuck up, and put all the errant thoughts about kids that may not ever exist and never got the chance to, back in their box.

I don’t blame Snow for ending her pregnancy. On top of the way she found out, neither one of us were in no position to be teen parents. But I can’t tell her I mourn our firstborn so profoundly, regardless of all the facts, so it’s easier not to talk about it.

Still, I need to know one thing before I force myself to go to sleep.

“You’d have my baby?”

Snow’s brows furrow, before she pauses the movie and turns her head toward me. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Would you have my baby? We don’t use condoms, and I be over pulling out. You’d have my baby or you pulling up to the chop shop again?”

Snow mashes her lips, glancing at a sleeping Mars between us before leveling me with a glare that could kill.

“One: if I can’t bring up LJ, then you can’t either, nigga. Two: I’m not having shit until I got a marriage license, ironclad prenup with a cheating clause, and an account for the mommy makeover I will be having after your big headed kid fucks up my body. And three, which is most important: the way you move, you’ll be lucky if you ever see Miss Snowflake again, let alone try to impregnate me.”

I comb my lip, thinking about my pussy and how much I know she miss me. But then, I finish processing what she said. “Who the fuck is LJ?”

“Luney Junior,” she drawls, rolling her eyes and grabbing the remote. “Not that you care, but when I do like to go down certain parts of memory lane, that’s the name that came to mind, so it stuck.”

I lean over and kiss her temple as she starts the movie back up. “We would never name our kid after my street name.”

“Well, my daughter is gonna for sure be Snow or Ice, so.”

I shake my head, kissing her again before rolling off the bed to get Mars settled into the guest room.

A mini Snow wouldn’t be so bad.

For Snow to tell me any time she can that she’s not my bitch, I sure am putting in a lot of work to get back in her good graces.

It don’t matter that I wear this damn cock lock, that she has the passwords to all my shit, or that I answer my phone at the most random times whenever she feels like checking in with me.

No. My Snow was serious about depriving me of my pussy. She calls me petty, but she can tell I’m fiending, and instead of dropping her pants and giving me what I need, she just pushes that fucking gum to the side of her mouth and laughs.

So I stopped asking. That was a week ago. This morning, she calls me, telling me she has a free day, so instead of manipulating my way into us spending the day in her crib, I tell her to get dressed. We can’t really be seen in the city, but Hudsonville is a little ways away, so if she keeps that blonde wig in the closet, she’ll be straight.

I’m more surprised than anything that she’s wearing her natural hair in two braids. Her tank top stops above her belly ring, and with her ripped pants and chucks, she doesn’t look anything like the rap star she is.

Her floral perfume makes my mouth water when she slides into my front seat. “No Monte Carlo today?”

“Nah,” I smirk, pulling off once she buckles her seatbelt.

“Am I dressed okay?”

“Yup. You look good, baby.”

She lights up, blush filling her cheeks. “Thank you.”

I stop at a red light and lightly trace the freckles dotting her face. “Your freckles are my favorite constellation, Snow. I love when you don’t cover them.”

She shies away from my hand, and I know she’s overwhelmed with my praise.

“You still not seeing Miss Snowflake.”