“Nothing is ever too much when it comes to you, beautiful. You deserve the world, and I’m going to give it to you.”
I blinked back the tears stinging in my eyes, torn between wanting to chastise him for being so damn extra and wanting to melt in his embrace. “When did you even have time to do this?”
“I ordered them from a broker on the flight home. I saw that message from that nigga telling you to have that nigga buy you a car. I wasn’t about to watch you ride around in shit he bought you anyways. Now you have a whip for here and one for Miami.”
I excitedly rubbed my hands together. “I want to take the GT! I’m driving today.”
“It’s your world,” he beamed. I strutted over to him and placed a peck on his lips.
“Damn cake, she ain’t fucking with you today,” Yaseer muttered to the cheesecake from San Sebastián that I completely missed in his hands.
The pretty purple Bentleys behind him snatched my undivided attention. It wasn’t until he spoke that I really took a good look at him. We were wearing similar outfits, the white Rays shirt popped against his rich brown skin, but it was the way his beard was freshly lined and glistening underneath the Florida sun that made my panties moist. The natural arrogance in the way he stood, talking to the dessert like it had feelings, only made me fall harder for him.
“I’m sorry cake, you know I always have time for you,” I cooed, grabbing the box from him.
“That ass in them biker shorts,” Yaseer complimented, cupping both of my ass cheeks in his hands the moment I turned around.
“You like what you see?”
“I love it.” He licked his lips slowly, like he was imagining tasting more than my lip gloss.
“Oh wait, take a picture of me in front of my new cars before we leave,” I requested, bouncing over to the middle of the cars.
With the cake box in one hand and a seductive smirk on my face, I turned slightly to the side, making my curves pop. Yaseer held his phone up and crouched down low, just like I taught him to get these angles like a pro. I switched it up a few times, hand on my hip, tossing my braids over my shoulder.
After a few pictures with the cake, I rushed over and placed it in Yaseer’s hand to take a solo picture with my cars. I stood in the middle of the purple Bentleys and placed my hands on the hoods of both cars with a bright smile on my face.
Yaseer lowered the camera and bolted over in my direction. Placing the cake on the hood of the Bentayga and wrapping me up in his arms. “That fucking smile does something to me. Looking like you got a nigga that make you happy.” He gushed, trailing kisses up my neck until his lips met mine.
“You make it so easy to smile like this,” I admitted, holding onto his muscular arms. “Let me go cut a slice of cake for the drive. I want to drive so you can get the car warmed up while you send me the pictures you took.”
I rushed back into the house and emerged a few minutes later so we could leave. Sitting behind the wheel of my new car felt foreign. Don’t get me wrong, my Benz was nice, but it had nothing on the Bentley that I’d grown accustomed to driving. It felt like I was back where I belonged as we drove to Steinbrenner Field.
Yaseer playedEverythingby Mary J. Blige, singing along while we drove to the premium parking area. He guided me inside to the Luxury Suite, where our families were already mingling. Gina, Zay, Amill, and Wayne accompanied Yaseer while my kids, their siblings, and spouses accompanied Quincy. We made our way around the room, which smelled like buttery popcorn, greeting everyone until we got to Quincy. He was sitting on one of the stools near the glass with a clear view of the game.
My heart swelled just looking at him. It would never get old seeing Quincy follow his dreams and become so passionate about it. He had one arm stretched across the back of the chair, and the same calm expression he always wore when he was locked in on anything baseball related.
“Hey, Quincy,” I cooed, gently placing my hand on his shoulder and planting a kiss on his cheek.
“Hey ma, wassup Yaseer,” he smiled, placing his hand over mine while standing up to hug me, then dapping up Yaseer.
“Y’all just got here?”
“A few minutes ago. Was the food good?”
“I had some of the wagyu sliders. They were perfect,” he responded, reclaiming his seat. We took the two stools beside him with me in the middle.
“You enjoying the view or scouring hitters?” Yaseer prodded.
“A lil of both, trying to pick up what I can.”
“You see how they set up that shift in the second inning?”
“Yeah. I actually practiced that drill last week.”
They slipped into baseball talk, and I sat there beaming, listening to them banter and laugh. Yaseer would never be able to replace their father, but I was sure thankful that he was around to be the buffer that I needed when I really didn’t know what the hell was going on in their world sometimes. I loved Yaseer for myself, but he stepped into all of our lives likehe’d always been there. Quincy secured a NIL deal with Yaseer, and his face was on a billboard off the interstate promoting their“Discipline Pays”youth investment initiative. I was beyond grateful because Quincy had earned enough money to cover his own expenses and returned the monthly allowance I had sent him yesterday.
The subtle relaxing of Quincy’s shoulders told me he was comfortable with Yaseer, and I was thankful for that. We were nearing a month in, but I was head over heels in love with this man. He broke Lil Q down when he straightened Jameera’s uncle out about him and now Quincy. I could see myself with him forever.
