“I don’t know, that’s why I asked,” he muttered.
Meadow laughed into her sleeve. “You jealous?”
“What you think?”
“I think you’re being cute right now.”
“I ain’t tryna be cute.” His voice dropped a shade deeper. “I just don’t like the idea of a bitch ass nigga standin’ in the same room with you, lookin’ at you the way I know he do.”
Her chest pulled tight. “Zaire…”
“Nah,” he countered. “I’m straight. He don’t bother me.”
Meadow raised a brow. “So you not worried?”
Zaire chuckled confidently. “Baby…from how deep I be in your guts, another man couldn’t fit if he tried.”
Meadow covered her face with both hands, kicking her feet like she was fifteen. “Zaire!”
“What?” He sounded proud of himself. “Why you actin’ shy?”
“Don’t say stuff like that.”
“It ain’t the truth?”
Meadow groaned, falling back onto the bed. “You gon’ have me actin’ stupid.”
“You already do.”
“Zaire—"
“You smiled when I said it,” he added. “I can hear it.”
Meadow pressed the phone closer to her ear, fighting the warmth crawling down her body. “Whatever.”
“You miss me yet?”
“No.”
“You stay lyin’.”
She sighed, “Maybe a little.”
“You miss me a lot,” he corrected.
“Go to hell.”
He laughed again, the sound deep enough to pull at her breath. “Go to sleep, Meadow. I’ll call you when I wake up.”
“What time?”
“Early.”
“Text me first,” she said. “I’m on vacation time.”
“Just answer when I call.”
She felt her heart settle. “Goodnight, Zaire.”
