Page 66 of Love & Streetball

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

She was nervous as fuck. There were plenty of times we slept in her bed together, even while her mama was at work. We never moved passed anything other than kissing and swiping spit, but that’s it. I was on Slim’s time. I wasn’t trying to rush her to do anything else until she was ready. I didn’t want her to regret anything, and when it did happen, I wanted her to be sure and comfortable in her decision.

I led Slim to the penthouse suites. It was for one night, but I didn’t care how much it cost me. When we reached the door, I shifted the bags into one hand and pulled the key card from my pocket.

Slim looked at the number before glancing at me. “This is a suite?”

“Yeah, penthouse.”

Slim’s sleepy widened. “Really, Kane” Whyyy?” she groaned. “You just wasting money. I didn’t need a penthouse. Not for one night.”

“Want to make it two,” I joked, but was slightly serious. “I will, and it ain’t wasting if I’m spending it on you.”

I pressed the key card to the pad and it unlocked. Pushing the door open, I let Slim enter first. When she gasped loudly, I knew the decorator had done her shit.

Pink, white, and gold balloons covered the ceiling, with long ribbons hanging down throughout the room. Rose petals created a path from the entrance to the bedroom. Against one wall, gold balloons spelled out HAPPY 18TH BIRTHDAY, SCOTTIE, and pictures of Slim from different stages of her life, that I’d gotten from her mama, hung from the strings. here were baby pictures, school pictures, basketball pictures, and a few I had taken when she wasn’t paying attention.

A table near the windows held a pink-and-gold basketball cake, chocolate-covered strawberries, flowers, and more gifts. Two customized jerseys were spread across the bed. One had STONE and my number on the back. The other had SLIM with the number eighteen.

Slim slowly walked farther into the suite, looking around like she was afraid everything would disappear if she moved too fast.

“Damn,” I mumbled when she still hadn’t said anything. “You don’t like it?”

She turned around. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you ain’t saying shit.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“That usually don’t stop you.”

We laughed.

“I love it. I’m trying so hard not to cry because I’ve never had a birthday like this before,” she said quietly. “I appreciate you so much, Kane. For real. It’s so pretty. Thank you.”

Her voice cracked on that last word, and she quickly turned her back to me.

“Come here,” I said through a snort. “Bring yo crybaby ass here, Scottie.”

The second I opened my arms, she rushed into them. I wrapped her up, holding her tight against my chest. She buried her face in my shirt, and I felt her take a shaky breath.

“You ain’t gotta thank me for wanting to see you happy,” I told her. “And you better get used to this shit.”

She pulled back enough to look up at me. “Get used to what?”

“Being celebrated. Me showing up for you. Being my girl. All of it.”

Her eyes watered again. I wiped Slim’s eyes.

“Maaaan come on and lay down. You doin’ all this crying like you don’t know how I get down behind you, Scottie.” She laughed. “What?”

“You keep calling me Scottie, nigga.”

I chuckled and pulled away from her. “’Cause that’s your name, shorty.”

“You went to college and came back a different breed,” Slim laughed. “I like it.”

I mushed her head and when she turned around, I smacked her ass. “I grew up. I’m not the Kane you first met.”