He approached the house quietly, hoodie up, duffel slung over his shoulder.
Tia cracked the door open before he could even knock. She whispered, “She’s in the guest room.”
Zaire’s jaw flexed. “She cried?”
“Not big tears, more like…frustrated tears.”
Zaire felt bad but he was so desperate to see her face.
After the game, everything moved faster than he could breathe. Cameras were in his face. Commentators shoved mics under his chin. Reporters tried to twist his words into drama. He answered what he had to answer, ignored what he didn’t owe, and dipped the minute the league released him.
He didn’t even change out of his tournament gear…didn’t shower at the facility…didn’t even grab a plate from the post-game spread.
His mind was locked on Meadow and getting to Emerald City.
Before Meadow got on the plane, Zaire had her give him Blain’s number. Meadow didn’t understand why Tia’s number wasn’t good enough until Zaire explained that as a man, he would prefer to speak to the man of the house.
So, he’d made plans on coming the night before and Blain said everything was cool. Zaire had even booked a luxury hotel suite for them to spend the last night in Emerald City, but after bad weather and flight delays, it was too late to drag her out the house.
“Let me show you where her room is,” Tia smiled, loving the way he showed up for her girl. It reminded her of her own love story. Blain was a show up and show out kind of man.
Zaire nodded before following her up the stairs and down the hall. She stepped to the side to let him in the room.
Tia grinned behind him like a gremlin. “She is about to act a fool.”
“Tell Blain, I appreciate him,” Zaire said with his hand on the doorknob.
“Don’t hurt her too bad.” Tia wagged her tongue making Zaire chuckle lowly.
The door eased open.
He stepped inside the room, his duffel bag hitting the carpet with a soft thud.
The moment he saw her curled up in bed - mouth slightly open, one sock on, one sock missing…warmth eased its way into his chest.
He walked over, slowly. Kneeling down, he brushed his lips against her cheek first, then her chin, and then the corner of her mouth.
Meadow stirred.
“Brent, if you don’t get out my fuckin’ room-”
Zaire froze mid-kiss. “Aye cuh.”
Her eyes snapped open.
Everything in her snapped awake. “Zaire?”
He grinned, pulling his hood back. “Who the hell you think you was kissing?”
Meadow launched herself at him so fast he caught her on instinct, arms locking around her thighs as she wrapped herself around him like she practiced it.
“Oh my God! What are you doing here?!” she gasped, hands cupping his face.
“Surprising you, baby.”
“I called you all day!”
“I know.”
