Ahhh... Jay and you. You'd always been a little more than just friends—but never quite enough to be somethin' real. You were Kyree's sister, off-limits by street code, but Jay had been toeing that line for years. You shared glances too long to be innocent, inside jokes nobody else understood, and silences that said way more than words ever could. Jay had crushed on you since you were teens, back when you cussed him out for blowing smoke near you.

You never really entertained the flings he ran through—probably figured he wasn't serious. And truth be told, he wasn't... until you.

**

Flashback – two weeks ago, Washington Park

Jay was high as hell, leaning back on a bench with bloodshot eyes, the sun dipping low behind him, casting everything in gold. You were sitting next to him, picking at the laces on your sneakers, cheeks glowing soft from the sunset.

He'd been talking for twenty minutes straight about some dumb freestyle he wrote the night before, and you just laughed, shaking your head, and complained about him talkin' too much while being high.

Jay turned his head slow, eyes lazy but locked in. "You still fine as hell though," he said, all smooth, the weed making him bolder than usual. He watched you roll your eyes, but still decided to continue forward making a move.

"Nah, I'm serious." He licked his lips, heart starting to beat fast despite the high. "I be frontin' sometimes, but... I like you. Been liked you."

You looked at him, head tilted, cautious but curious.

"Lemme take you out," he said, voice low now. "Like, for real. No games. Just me and you. You pick the spot."

When you said: "Alright... one date," Jay grinned so wide it hurt. "Bet. Watch. You gon' fall in love."

**

Present Day

Jay stood in front of the mirror in Kyree's room, adjusting the thin gold chain around his neck for the fourth time. His fresh white tee was crisp, the ripped Amiri jeans hung perfectly on his frame, and the Dior Sauvage cologne cloud around him was damn near visible.

"Boy, you look nervous as hell," Kyree laughed from the bed, where he was stretched out scrolling on his phone. "Like you 'bout to go interview for a job, not link with her."

Smoke, sitting on the windowsill rolling up, chimed in, "Bro tucked his chain in and pulled it back out three times. You scared she gon' snatch it off you?"

Everybody burst out laughing. Even Tone, who barely spoke unless he had to, cracked a grin. "He ain't even hit yet and already folded."

Jay side-eyed all of them through the mirror, trying to act unfazed, but his ears were burning red. "Y'all some hatin' ass niggas," he muttered, fixing his sleeves.

"Nah, we proud of you, lil bruh," Kyree teased. "Finally got the balls to ask her out. Thought I was gon' have to do it for you."

"Man, shut up," Jay barked, grabbing his car keys off the dresser. "Y'all lame as hell."

Smoke coughed a laugh and leaned forward. "You takin' her to that lil fancy spot, right? Better not have her out here eatin' McDonald's in your passenger seat."

Jay pointed a warning finger at him. "Stop playin' with me."

Tone snickered under his breath. "You put gas in the car? I know your shit be on E."

"Nigga," Jay snapped, but he was half-laughing too now. "Watch when I bag her. Y'all ain't gon' be laughin' then."

Kyree stood up, tossing a fitted cap at Jay. "Bag her? Bruh, she already like you. Don't fumble. Just don't be weird, aight?"

Jay stuffed the cap on his head and gave himself one last look. He wasn't just trying to impress you — he wanted to. You weren't like the others he ran game on. You were smart, fine, had a real good heart under all that quiet fire. And Jay? He wasn't trying to fuck this up.

He threw up a middle finger at all of them as he headed out the door. "Y'all wish me luck, hoes."

Smoke called out after him, "Break a leg, Romeo!"

The door slammed, and the room erupted in fresh laughter.

**

Jay slid into the driver's seat of his matte black Charger, the engine growling to life like it had something to prove. He let the beat ride for a second—some Brent Faiyaz, smooth enough to set the tone but not too thirsty. The kind of vibe that said I'm chill, but I'm serious. He turned the volume down just a little and adjusted his fitted in the rearview.

His palms were sweating.

That shit annoyed him. He didn't get nervous. Not for girls, not for cops, not for ops. But this? Going to pick you up—from your momma's house, no less? His heart was thumping harder than it had any right to.

He hit the gas and rolled through the city like he owned it, but the closer he got to your neighborhood, the more his mind started spiraling. What if your mama came out trippin'? What if you changed your mind? What if you looked so good he forgot how to talk?

Jay laughed under his breath. Chill, bro. You got this.

He pulled up in front of the cream-colored house with the chipped paint he knew too well. Used to post up here all the time with Kyree, but this was different now. This wasn't homie shit—this was him, putting himself out there.

His phone buzzed.

*You outside?

He smirked and texted back.

*Jay: Yeah. Come on, I wanna see you.

He leaned back, drumming his fingers on the wheel, trying to play it cool while his heart threatened to knock out his chest. Then the door opened, and everything stopped.

There you were.

Hair done, earrings in your ears, lips glossy. The way you walked made the air in the car get heavy. Jay blinked, sat up straighter. You were really walking toward him. For him.

He jumped out, tried not to stare too hard, but damn. You looked so good he couldn't even speak right at first. "You look... You look real good."

Smooth. Chill. Don't say too much.

Your mama was on the porch, arms crossed. Jay snapped into respect mode instantly.

"Evenin', Miss Jasmine."

Jasmine nodded, tight-lipped. Didn't say much, but her eyes said everything.

Jay waited until you were buckled in before sliding back behind the wheel. He pulled off slow, careful—like if he drove too fast, he might ruin the whole moment. When he finally turned off your block, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"You ready for me to blow your mind tonight?" he asked, flashing you that cocky smile he always kept tucked in his back pocket.

You gave him a look, speaking about if you go to a Waffle House, you're walkin' home?! What?! You saw him scoopin' that low?

Jay laughed, real and deep this time, some of the nerves falling off his shoulders. "Nah," he said, looking at you quick before turning back to the road. "You with me now. This gon' be different. Better than them other lil' dates you be goin' on with those broke ass niggas—but I ain't one. You'll see."