“I’ll make it quick. Wait for me?”
“Always.”
He jogged back to his teammates, and I sank into my seat, heat rolling through me as I tried to calm down.
“Sister,” Omni said. “You just became the most talked-about woman in Colorado.”
I laughed, finally letting myself relax. “Thank you. For bringing me. For sitting with me. For having my back.”
“Please, we are family now. You ain't going anywhere, Halo.”
An hour later, I was standing in the hallway outside the locker room, waiting for DaVinci. Omni had already left since I was going to ride with him. When he finally walked out, freshly showered and dressed in all black Louis Vuitton to match me, he looked even better than he did on the court. He carried himself with confidence that came from winning. The night belonged to him before we even opened the door.
“There she is,” he said, walking straight to me.
“Here I am.”
He scooped me up, spun me once before setting me down gently, forehead resting on mine, breathing me in. He’d been waiting on this moment all damn day, and it showed.
He laced our fingers, tugging me closer. “Come on. I missed you, and I need you to myself.”
“Where are we going?” I asked as we walked toward a car I hadn’t seen before. The man had a whole fleet, so nothing should’ve surprised me—but this one did. An older Chevrolet truck, blacked out, lowered, rims glinting under the streetlights. It was clean, restored, hood nostalgia dressed in luxury.
He grinned.
“Ember. I cleared the balcony for us tonight.”
Ember wasn’t the type of place you just walked into. It was dim lights, live jazz, curated cocktails, and a vibe so intimate you felt like something sacred might happen in the shadows. People bragged about getting on the waitlist for theregularbooths. The private entrance? That shit was an urban legend.
“Baby!” I grabbed his arm. “Stop playing.”
“What?” he asked, straight-faced, like he didn’t just casually hand me a golden ticket. “That Isaiah nigga you like gon be on stage too. So pick ya lips up and get in.”
I swallowed hard. “Oh my God. Okay.”
He squeezed my hand once before helping me inside the truck.
The ride was quiet in that comfortable way, both of us humming along with the music. Then, of course, we ended up singing because neither of us could resist turning a simple drive into a full concert.'Gone'by Nelly and Kelly Rowland was the song we’d been singing. I loved how corny we could be… together. His hand stayed on my thigh the entire time, thumb brushing across my stockings, tapping out his own rhythm. By the time we pulled behind Ember, my whole body was buzzing. I’d been dying to see this place.
He came around to open my door. It was second nature to him. He helped me out, and his grip stayed firm, our hands still locked together. The private entrance was nothing but a black door, a single light, and a security guard big enough to fold a grown man. He nodded the second he saw DaVinci.
“Evening, Boss.”
I blinked. “Boss? You own Ember?”
“I do,” he said simply. “What's up, Clay?”
I watched as he spoke softly to Clay for a second. They shared a handshake. He came back to me and kissed my temple, moving us along.
“I swear, I learn something new about you every day.”
Inside, the air shifted immediately. Rich browns and deep olives, velvet and leather everywhere, the kind of warmth you feel in your bones. Low jazz floated up the staircase, bassline rolling like slow honey across the walls. Light from the chandeliers downstairs flickered through the railing, tossing gold shadows across his shoulders as we climbed.
He led me up the stairs, our fingers locked. I followed without hesitation. That was exactly where I wanted to be.
The balcony was hidden behind a curved partition—plush seats, dark wood, soft lighting that caressed skin. From up here, we could see everything. The crowd. The stage. The band warming up. Yet it still felt private.
And it was ours.
