♫ Have Ya Babies | Elijah “Smoke” Moore
(10) Girl, you know the drill, don't ask no questions, you already know..
♫ Now Playing: U Already Know - 112
_________________________________
The bass thumped heavy in the club, neon lights cutting across bodies as Stack stood in his section, gold chain catching every flash of light. A bottle sat half-drained in front of him, phone buzzing in his pocket, but his attention sharpened when a figure pushed through the crowd with intent.
Dominick Reed - Lakers Shooting Forward
The shooting forward’s frame was impossible to miss, broad shoulders, practiced confidence that screamed I know who I am. He stopped right in front of Stack, eyes hard, jaw set.
“Smoke,” DJ called, tone low but tight. “We need to talk.” His crew settled behind him.
Stack turned his head slowly, sipping from his glass before setting it down. His grin spread wide, he loved when this happened. Occasionally he and Smoke got mistaken for one another, not a big deal, but this?
This was his time to be an all star troll.
“You sure about that?” he asked, voice slick.
DJ ignored the deflection. “You know Aspen? Cause that’s forever my b—“
Stack tilted his head back and laughed. Loud, sharp, cutting. People nearby glanced over. This was better than he thought. Miss Miami was making niggas sweat in the club? He needed to meet her now.
“Oh, you bold,” Stack smiled, grill flashing. He stepped closer, lowering his voice just enough to sting, humor depleted. “Boy, I’ll make sure that ACL never works again if you ever pop up like this again talking crazy.”
The words hung in the air. DJ’s face hardened, but he stepped back, breathing slow, forcing himself to take the high road. The Moore twins weren’t like most industry executives, they had a very questionable reputation that made people leave them the fuck alone.
Stack smirked, finishing his drink. “Now enjoy your night, baller. You got the wrong twin. I ain’t even Smoke.”
“This Stack playboy.” All thirty two glimmering in the low light.
For a beat, DJ just stared. Processing. Embarrassment flickered in his eyes before he muttered, “I had too much to drink.”
“Yeah,” Stack said, dismissive, turning his back from him. “I think so too.” He didn’t even bother to look at DJ again.
DJ exhaled, jaw tight, and walked off through the crowd, shoulders tense.
_________________________________
Stack tried to continue his night. His section was full of people, and the drinks being poured numbed his feelings. Tori miscarried and part of him blamed himself. Daddy always told himself he was bad luck.
He rubbed his face, adjusting his shades to keep his composure. DJ blew his high and he was reminded of who he should’ve been with in the first place.
He quietly slipped out of the club, walked strategically to his tinted truck, and scrolled through his phone. He sat in his locked vehicle in silence as he searched for Elijah’s name. He hit FaceTime.
Smoke answered, dark background behind him. His voice groggy how it usually was when he woke up.
“Man we ten years old today and you ain’t out here celebrating.” Stack laughed at his brother who rubbed his tired eyes.
“Nigga sleep at 11PM. How lame.” He teased. Smoke sighed but Stack heard the sheets rustling signaling that he was getting out of bed.
Smoke closed the door to the extra bedroom gently, sure to not wake Aspen up. His body begged him to go back to sleep and cradle her, but he humored his brother.
“We got that brunch. You know I ain’t going to no damn club Stack.” He breathed, his face appearing in the low light of the night peeking through the window.
“Yeah yeah I know…. Why you in bed at 11 Elijah?” Stack’s eyes lowered. When he was met with silence he let out a deep chuckle. “I was actually calling you about her.”
Smoke’s eyes narrowed. “You calling me about my girl?”
Stack tried to hide his grin, “Your girl? When y’all get back cool?”
“Elias get to the point.” He urged, his fist already clinched, desperately trying to stop his tremor from spreading worse.
“Guess who I ran into tonight?” Stack started, grin still plastered on his face.
Smoke didn’t answer, just waited, that silence that demanded the truth.
“DJ,” Stack said, smirking. “Thought I was you. Tried to check me about Aspen.”
For the first time, Stack noticed how still his twin went on the screen. Eyes low, jaw set.
“Chill, I handled it,” Stack added quickly, shrugging. “Told him he had the wrong Moore. But man he was pressed..”
There was a pause. Heavy. Smoke’s voice finally came through, low, gravel-edged.
“He say anything else?” Smoke questioned, reaching for a bottle of water.
“Na. Told his ass to find something safe to do.” Stack shrugged. “You knew they had a thing going on?”
“I don’t ask questions about what I don’t care about.”
They exchanged a few more words before Smoke ended the call. Off to bed with his girl. The girl he just put to sleep.
Fuck what DJ talking about.
_________________________________
The sunlight cut through the blinds in lazy stripes, landing on the mess of sheets tangled around Aspen’s legs.
Her eyes blinked open slowly, the warmth of the morning competing with a dull ache in her body. She groaned, stretching, and winced halfway through.
“Everything hurtsss,” she muttered into the pillow.
From somewhere near the window, a low chuckle answered. “That a complaint?”
Aspen turned her head. Elijah stood there, basketball shorts hanging low, coffee mug in hand, watching her with that steady, unreadable calm that always made her heart beat faster.
“I’m not complaining,” she said, voice scratchy. “I’m saying my body hurtsss.”
He took a sip of his coffee, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You begged me to do it.”
She threw him a look. “That didn’t mean I didn’t want to walk again
He crossed to the bed, setting the mug down on her nightstand. “You deserve a day off.”
Aspen frowned, pushing herself up on her elbows. “A day off from what? What you talking about Elijah?”
Elijah reached into his pocket and laid a small envelope beside her. “Go get a massage, a pedicure, something nice. Take ya friend.”
Her brows lifted. “You suggesting I let strangers touch me?”
He shrugged lightly, the smirk still playing at his mouth. “Better them than me. I’m gone make it worse.”
Aspen squinted at him, trying not to smile. “You’re not funny.”
He leaned down just enough that his voice brushed against her skin. “I wasn’t joking.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the warmth that crept up her neck. “You always this bossy after… celebrating?”
“Only for you.” He straightened, grabbing his mug again.
“I’ll help you up. Don’t want these bruises turning ugly.”
“Bruises?” she echoed, searching her body.
“You sweet as a peach, but ya bruise just as easily.”
Aspen laughed, mostly out of shock, Elijah’s aftercare was something else.
“Give me a kiss first.” She smiled softly at him. He sighed, though it held no fight, leaned down and kissed her slowly.
_________________________________
Aspen stayed in bed for another ten minutes, staring at the ceiling. Elijah was in the shower and she still couldn’t find the motivation to move.
She glanced at the envelope Elijah placed in her hand. The spa logo was embossed in gold, the receipt neatly tucked inside — two appointments, prepaid, no note.
Typical Elijah. No explanation, just quiet direction.
She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and drafted a text to Adrienne.
Adrienne replied instantly, as always.
your sore, half-dead best friend.
“Sounds like somebodyyyy had a night 👀”
Just know I can’t move but pick you up in an hour?
“ooooh we’re doing rich girl errands today im getting out of bed now”
Aspen smiled to herself, setting the phone down. She moved slow getting ready, it’s not like she could move any faster. A hot shower, light makeup, and a matching set later she was ready to go.
Elijah kissed her before she had time to make it downstairs. He moved quickly, not rushed but definitely intentional. Leaving just a mug in the sink and his car flying out the driveway.
An hour later, Adrienne’s voice boomed through the the speaker in Aspen’s car. “Be right there!”
Adrienne wore a cute white dress with her hair pineappled on top of her head. As soon as she entered Aspen’s car she laughed.
Aspen handed her the spa envelope. “Said I needed a day off.”
Adrienne grinned like she knew exactly what that meant. “Oh, he definitely did something to make you need one.”
Aspen rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. “Please stop.”
“Just one more question. Was it heavy?” She bit her lip, hiding her laugh.
“It was huge, Adri. Huge.” Aspen sighed dramatically. “Then he was all smug the next morning full of energy.”
“Told you that man wasn’t playing with you!” She cackled. “Finally! I’m glad he didn’t let you push him away.”
Aspen started to drive to the direction of the spa. She thought for a moment, “Yeah. Me too.”
When they arrived at the spa, marble floors, soft music, and white robes, she couldn’t stop thinking about the quiet way Elijah had spoken that morning. You need a day off.
It was gentle, but it also felt like he’d planned it long before she woke up.
Later, as they sat with cucumbers over their eyes and warm towels on their feet, Adrienne’s phone buzzed with a notification. She peeked at the screen and suddenly froze.
Aspen lifted the towel slightly. “What?”
Adrienne turned the phone toward her. It was a sports update — a photo from courtside.
Smoke and Stack, side by side at DJ’s game. Front row. Smiling for cameras like it was nothing.
Adrienne’s brows shot up. “You seen this?”
Aspen stared, the breath catching in her throat for half a beat. Then she set her towel back down, eyes on the ceiling.
She didn’t text Elijah about it.
Something about the way he moved that morning suddenly made perfect sense.
He was marking his territory. She didn’t know if she was flattered or irritated.
“Excuse me? Can we please have more champagne.” Aspen asked from behind the towel, not bothering to remove it this time.
“Yes, coming right up.” The masseuse moved quickly.
_________________________________
The energy in the arena was alive, camera flashes, the bass of the speakers vibrating through the floor, sneakers squeaking against the polished court.
Smoke sat stone-still, black shirt, expensive pants, one arm resting across his leg. Stack, on the other hand, was in his usual element, chain glinting, grin sharp, waving to people in the stands who shouted their names.
“You know you’re a menace, right?” Stack muttered, leaning toward his brother.
Smoke didn’t look away from the game. “You talk too much.”
Stack laughed, biting into a handful of popcorn. “I’m just saying. You could’ve picked any game to sit front row. Why this one?”
Smoke’s jaw flexed, the faintest twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Building rapport.”
At halftime, a few players came over, quick daps, light conversation for the cameras. Stack played along, snapping a picture or two, while Smoke’s eyes tracked every movement on the court.
Then DJ jogged past. He locked eyes with Smoke instantly.
For half a second, he stopped mid-stride. His expression faltered just enough for Stack to notice. That was all it took.
Stack leaned back in his seat, watching DJ retreat to the tunnel. “And everybody thinks I’m the crazy one.”
Smoke sipped his water, eyes never leaving the court. “I didn’t say a word.”
“Didn’t have to,” Stack said, laughing. “Presence talks.”
When the buzzer sounded and the crowd erupted, both men stood. Cameras flashed again, twin silhouettes, clean, powerful, impossible to miss.
As they made their way toward the exit, Stack nudged him lightly. “How you explaining yourself out of this one? Where she at anyway?”
Smoke finally glanced at him, eyes unreadable. “Told her to buy something nice after her massage. So hopefully, shopping.”
Stack gave a short laugh. “You planned it all out. Huh?”
Smoke’s gaze lingered on the court one last time. “I always have a plan.”
“Don’t tell her it was my idea. I want to meet her on good terms.” Stack’s put his hands up. “When you bringing her around?”
“I don’t meet half of your girlfriends.” Smoke’s brows shifted in annoyance.
“‘Cause most of them weren’t my girlfriends dumbass,” he mocked. “You actually fuck with this girl. I wanna meet her.”
“Alright I’ll set something up. Just give me a minute.” And with a handshake and hug, the brothers separated.
_________________________________
The house was mostly dark when Aspen stepped inside, the faint glow of recessed lights stretching across the floor.
She’d spent the afternoon unwinding, but her mind never quite stilled. The image of Elijah and Elias courtside played behind her eyes like a looped clip. He hadn’t texted, hadn’t said where he was going.
He was sitting on the couch when she found him. Black hoodie, gray sweats, a glass of whiskey resting on his thigh. TV low, volume barely audible.
He looked up, eyes taking her in, her hair pulled back, his hoodie draped over her matching set. His gaze lingered just long enough for her to feel it.
“How was the spa?” he asked, voice low, steady.
“Relaxing,” she said, moving closer. “Didn’t know self-care came with a receipt and a schedule.”
That earned a small smirk from him. “You needed it.”
She hesitated, standing in front of him. “You didn’t tell me you were going to the game.”
He didn’t flinch, didn’t break eye contact. “Wasn’t a big deal.”
Her brows lifted slightly. “For someone else it probably was. Huh?”
That made him pause. He set the glass down on the table, then leaned back. “You looked it up?”
Aspen folded her arms, tone careful. “Adrienne showed me. You and Elias weren’t exactly hard to miss.”
A long silence settled between them, heavy but not hostile. He didn’t try to defend himself.
Finally, she sighed. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
Elijah’s eyes lifted to hers, the faintest glint of truth in them. “I did what I wanted.”
Aspen’s heartbeat ticked faster, irritation tangled with warmth and something that felt dangerously close to pride.
“Do you ever not control a situation?” she asked quietly.
He leaned forward then, elbows on his knees, the space between them charged. “When it comes to my heart? No.”
Elijah reached out, sliding a hand along her thigh, pulling her just close enough to stand between his knees. “You mad at me?”
“I’m still thinking about it,” she said honestly.
His lips brushed the inside of her wrist, voice low. “Mhm lie better.”
She exhaled, fighting the way that his possession betrayed her usual logic. “You’re annoying.”
He stood, his body closing the distance between them effortlessly. “And you like annoying.”
Instead, she let him roam. His hands found her hips, grounding her in that quiet way of his, no rush, no words. Just presence.
They didn’t talk about the game again.
Elijah made his claim publicly, or at least to DJ.
By the time he guided her to the couch and pulled her into him, the only thing that mattered was the weight of his arm around her and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under her cheek.
“What you buy?” He asked glancing at the shopping bags she left at the front door.
“Just a few outfits.” She shrugged, not expecting his grip to tighten.
“Any dresses in there? He inquired, voice low. She could feel the fire in his words.
“No baby. No dresses.” She nuzzled into him further, not in the mood to argue.
Smoke grunted at that, making Aspen shift closer, if possible, to him.
_________________________________
Welcome back to the renaissance. 
@rolemodelshit @tnychellee @gunznroses4life
@bananajoeclone @mayday39 @tafuller
@storiesbyasl @6666kayy @anotherdayof-sun
@cdotmvkspaz @cchampangemamii @hipplerester @katezy2x