My eyebrows snapped together once he said that.
“No, Brooklyn, in the guest room.”
“Shiid, if I can’t hold you like you are my favorite pillow, then I’m good on the couch.” His eyes traveled my body, but he didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. It was me walking around the house exposing my legs with these sleeping shorts and a tank top on.
“If you wake up then just get in the bed. I don’t want you complaining later saying you have a crook in your neck.”
“Bronx, if you are still scared and want me close to you then just make a pallet on the floor right here for us to sleep on. We don’t have to get in the bed.”
“K, let me go get some covers.” Crazy how it was easier for him to get me to sleep on the floor with him than us going upstairs to the bed.
Oh well, I skipped my ass upstairs for extra covers then made the softest pallet on the floor like I used to do back in the days at my grandparents' house. We both were knocked out within minutes of laying down.
Every time I rolled in my sleep, he pulled me right back into his arms. I found myself smiling a few times because he would kiss the back of my head whenever I squirmed then tell me that I’m safe so go back to sleep. And I did just that. Sleeping peacefully, and feeling protected, I got some of the best sleep I’d had in my life.
CHAPTER 7
ZOO
From courtside, I barked several explicit words to the referee, angered because this game wasn’t going good at all. Pen, who normally had a shot as smooth as butter, had only made five of her shots tonight. She’d gotten to the free throw line several times, but it didn’t make up for her missing over half her attempts from the field.
Defense had broken down, creating an even worse outcome for the Pelicans. Chicago was dominating this first game. Even with the lopsided defense, the Pelicans were still hanging tough. Penhad to get out of her head and play like she would any other game. Her frustration could be felt every time she passed me. Baby girl wasn’t happy, and everyone knew it.
While many would blame the stress of her sister being sick and carrying the weight of the team on her shoulders, others would continue to bash her skill level. The same would go for Bri. Many in the league were waiting for her to fail. This was one game, though. Hopefully, neither of them allowed the pressure to make them fold.
The game ended with the Pelicans winning by five after Chicago got into late foul trouble. Since she’d been missing her outside shots, Pen decided to attack Chicago’s defense. She was fouled twice on a made bucket and sank her free throws without the slightest hesitation.
She and her teammates walked off the court solemn and worn. Even Bri seemed heavy-laden.
Per usual, I waited for Pen while she did her post-game duties. Frustrated, none of her teammates were really in a mood to discuss what happened out there on the court.
Once Pen was done, she didn’t even acknowledge me as she passed me to go back toward the locker room. Security was familiar with me by now, so I had no issues when it came to following Pen.
She emerged from the locker room minutes later, and again without acknowledging me, walked towards the exit. I dapped Brooklyn, who lagged behind and waited for Bri. Pen gave a dry goodnight to staff members who congratulated her on her way out.
“Let me get that.” Reaching for Pen’s duffle bag, I was taken aback when she snatched away from me.
“I got it,” she mumbled.
“I wasn’t askin’,” I responded, plying the bag from her tight grasp.
She rolled her eyes and blew out an aggravated breath. “Can’t you find somebody else to boss around? I don’t need your help, Zoo.”
“Pen—”
“For real!” she interjected, cutting me off. “You’re waiting around for your chance to fuck me; I just know it. All this ‘you got me’ bullshit comes with a price,” she ranted. “You’ve been following me around like a lost dog who can’t find himself another bitch to fuck with.”
Because we were still in the parking lot, I had to watch how I reacted. The old Zoo wanted to hem Pen up against my truck. The Zoo that came along after meeting this woman had me thinking before I reacted.
“Get in the truck, Pen,” I suggested, opening the door for her.
With an attitude, she climbed into the truck. Sensing that this ride to her place was about to be heavy as fuck, I took my time climbing into the driver’s seat. She was quiet until we hit the interstate.
“Obviously, I was right, ‘cause you didn’t even correct me,” she threw out.
“I’m not ‘bout to argue wit' you, Pen. Feel how you wanna feel.”
Not only did she smack her teeth, but her arms flew over her breasts. “Just like a nigga,” she said, triggering me.
