“Baby…”
“Don’t call me that,” she whispered.
Zaire stood up.
Big…slow…controlled.
He walked toward her with that Cali swagger, his shoulders relaxed, a walk that meant he wasn’t arguing, he was informing.
Meadow’s breath shortened the closer he got.
When he reached her, he slid one finger under her chin, lifting her face up. “Tell me why it’s bothering you.”
Her pulse jumped so hard she knew he felt it. “Because,” she whispered. “It just did.”
“Aight,” he slow bobbed his head. “Let me try it this way.” He leaned closer, lips inches from hers. “You wanted to hear it from me first ‘cause you care.”
She swallowed.
“You wanted to hear it from me first ‘cause we not just nothin’.”
Her chest rose.
“And you wanted to hear it from me first,” he said softly, “because I fucked the shit outta you and you ain’t been right since.”
Meadow’s mouth parted. “Zaire…”
He took the last step, closing the distance until her back hit the door. “You think you the only one in your feelings?”
Her breath shook. “I don’t have feelings.”
“You got plenty,” he hummed, leaning in until their noses touched. “You just don’t like nobody seein’ ‘em.”
She gripped his shirt without meaning to.
Zaire slid his hands to her hips, pulling her the slightest bit closer. “I ain’t tryin’ to leave you, Meadow. I got work to do. A tournament ain’t a goodbye.”
She whispered it before she could stop herself. “I know.”
He studied her face. “Tell me what’s really wrong.”
She looked away. “I don’t want all of this on me when you leave. Everything’s already heavy.”
Zaire dropped his forehead to hers. “Then stop carryin’ all of it by yourself.”
“I don’t know how.”
“I’ll teach you.”
Her eyes flicked up at him, raw and unsure. “Why you say it like you already in my life?”
Zaire’s nose flared. “Because I am and on my set, I ain’t letting up.”
The sudden silence was thick and charged…borderline sexy as hell.
Meadow’s lips trembled the tiniest bit. “I’m not used to people staying.”
Zaire cupped her jaw with one warm hand. “I’m not them.”
