And I ain't never been scared of nothing else in my entire existence—except losing her.
"Uh-uh, you're cheating!" Synthia yelled after me as I dribbled past her on the basketball court.
I jumped toward the hoop, dunked the ball with one hand, and hung from the rim for a second before dropping back down. The kids on the sidelines erupted in cheers—Monterrius was the loudest, shit-talking and clowning Synthia and Moriah.
The ball bounced past Synthia, and she put her hands on her hips, breathing hard. "That's not fair! You're like six feet tall!"
"Six-three, actually," I corrected with a grin.
"Whatever!" She waved me off, but I could see the smile tugging at her lips.
Synthia was a sore loser. It was her idea to come to the park and play basketball. Some young kids had been playing earlier, and she'd gotten all competitive, talking shit about how she used to ball back in the day.
I told her I played in high school and I wasn't meant to be fucked with. That warning went through one ear and out the other.
Now she was out here, sweating through her PINK shirt, out of breath, complaining that I was cheating every time I scored.
To make Moriah feel better, I picked her up, placed the ball in her small hands, and lifted her high enough to dunk it in the rim. She giggled the entire time, her little legs kicking in excitement.
Synthia watched with a soft smile, and for a moment, everything felt... normal. Peaceful.
"I'm never playing with your cheating ass ever again," Synthia said as we walked over to the bench to sit down. She was still out of breath, her chest heaving.
"You need to get more active," I teased, sitting down beside her.
Her PINK shirt had patches of sweat across the front, and beads of perspiration ran down her forehead. She looked beautiful—flushed, messy, real.
Moriah and Monterrius stayed on the court, still playing. The rest of the kids were on the playground. The game wasn't long, but I still made sure to keep my eyes on them, scanning the area periodically to make sure they were safe.
"I used to be an active little thing when I was younger," Synthia said, giggling as she removed the scrunchie from around her wrist and pulled her hair into a messy ponytail.
"An 'active little thing,' huh?" I teased, my eyes roaming over her.
Leaning back, I extended my arms along the back of the bench, and purposefully, I used my hand to pull her closer to me. She resisted at first, but then she scooted over, closing the gap between us.
"Stop treating me like I'm contagious," she muttered, but there was no real bite in her tone.
"You know you got the cooties," I joked.
"If I got the cooties, then you got them too," she shot back. "You can't stay out of my pussy for two seconds."
I smirked. "Facts."
"Hush." She nudged me in the side with her elbow, glancing around nervously. "They can hear you."
"Mane." I waved her off, still looking ahead at the kids. "Them kids ain't studdin' us, and they for damn sure can't hear us. Don't get all shy on me, Juicy."
She rolled her eyes but smiled.
We sat there in comfortable silence for a moment, the sounds of the park surrounding us—kids laughing, birds chirping, the distant hum of traffic.
Then Synthia broke the silence.
"What was that about?"
I turned my head slightly, looking at her. "What you mean?"
"That shit with Trecee earlier. Y'all getting back together? I thought you said y'all broke up."
