Page 81 of Love & Streetball

“I know that too, Kane.”

I closed my eyes.

She let me sit there until my breathing settled, then leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“You can miss your daddy and still be hurt about what happened. You can do both, baby.”

I pulled back enough to look at her.

Her eyes were red. She’d been taking care of me, checking on Mama, answering calls, making sure I ate something, and I hadn’t even asked how she was holding up.

“Come here,” I told her.

“I’m right here,” she replied.

“Closer.”

Slim stepped closer.

“Thank you for loving me.”

Her hand paused against my neck.

Then she held me tighter.

“You don’t have to thank me for that.”

Across the cemetery, somebody called my name. I lifted a hand to let them know I’d heard, but I didn’t let her go yet.

For once, they could wait. Right now, I was focused on Scottie. She was my peace. It was fate when I took my ass to Love Grove to hoop that day. That was the day I first laid eyes on her. God knew what he was doing forcing me in her life and me not backing down until she gave in. Scottie was made for me.

21

Four years later…

My eyes popped open. It was Kane’s twenty sixth birthday and it landed on a night I had a game. I had plans to request to be off, but Kane told me not to do that. He wanted to watch me play on his day. He wanted me to drop at least thirty points tonight…just for him.

We were in Chicago, playing the Bears. Kane didn’t have a game tonight, so he flew in last night, stating there was no way he was waking up on his birthday without me beside him.

I rolled onto my side and found him asleep on his stomach, both arms underneath the pillow.

“Happy birthday, baby,” I whispered in his ear, morning breath and all.

Kane stirred, then his eyes opened—barely.

“Thank you, baby. What time is it?”

I stretched my neck to see the alarm clock. “A little after nine.”

Kane rolled onto his back. I bit back a smile, well attempted to. This man was so fine. His pecan colored skin was covered in so much ink, while I still had that one tattoo on my rib cage. He had a fresh lineup with his curly hair hydrated with moisturizer. Kane was looking at me through his light brown globes.

Before I could dart away because I knew it was coming, Kane had me pinned down underneath him, planting kisses on my lips, neck, and chest.

“I know what I want for my birthday,” he mumbled, inhaling one of my nipples in his mouth. My back arched and my legs widened apart.

“What?” I asked breathlessly, acting dumb.

“Pussy.”