𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐧-𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐀, where secrets swirl like smoke and dreams collide.
Akil, a talented basketball player, finds himself at a crossroads. His life, once defined by slam dunks and endorsements, is n...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Layola
𓆩♡𓆪
The streetlights outside flickered faintly as Layola drove down the quiet stretch of road leading to Akil's mansion. The car was warm; the heat turned up just enough to keep little Amaya bundled in her pink fleece onesie nice and cozy in the car seat. Layola glanced in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of her baby girl's tiny, serene face. Layola did her best to stir away from the baby talk with Amaya, and she wanted her daughter to be able to understand and give feedback earlier
"You good back there, mamas?" Layola said, her voice soft but carrying the love that only a mother could have. Amaya, only eight months old, cooed in response, her tiny fingers clutching the edge of the blanket draped over her lap.
Lay chuckled, shaking her head. "You probably don't even know what's goin' on, huh? Your daddy gonna have his hands full tonight, that's for sure."
She was nervous. It's not about Amaya being with Akil—he was a good dad, no matter how their situation turned out. But leaving her baby, even for one night, felt like stepping into unknown territory. She gripped the steering wheel tighter, her freshly done nails clicking against the leather of her G WAGON'S steering wheel.
"Mommy gon' miss you, but I need this, baby. Just one night," she whispered more to herself than to Amaya.
When they finally pulled up to Akil's place, Layola couldn't help but take in the sheer size of the house. Though this was her second time here, she still continued to be amazed. Akil's hustle had paid off in ways she couldn't deny; she had no choice but to commend his drive. The sleek black gates opened on cue, revealing a driveway big enough to park ten cars and a modern mansion with floor-to-ceiling windows glowing softly inside.
As she parked and stepped out, she adjusted her leather jacket. The cold bit her ankles and her jeans didn't quite reach her heels. Amaya started to stir, letting out a little whimper as Layola lifted her from the car seat.
"It's okay, mama. We here," she said, bouncing the baby lightly as she walked up the steps.
The front door opened before she could knock, and there he was— his tall, light-skinned stature presented itself with that signature low fade and a smile that still had the power to make her heart skip, even if she'd never admit it. He didn't have a perfect smile but his imperfections made him perfect. He was dressed casually but sharply, rocking some grey sweats and a crisp white tee that showed off his toned, tattooed arms.
"'Bout time,' he said, leaning slightly against the door, his eyes immediately going to Amaya. My baby girl is finally here." His eyes brightened instantaneously. The love he was developing daily for the little girl surprised him every day.
