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When I found her room, it wasn’t much. A simple full-size bed that didn’t rock with me. My solid, 6’6” frame was gon’ cover the entire bed, and my feet would absolutely be hanging off the bed. I laid her down, and she mumbled my name, but I couldn’t make out anything else she said. I opened the sliding door that led to her closet. There wasn’t anything in it, no clothes, no shoes. I mean shit, she didn’t even have any hangers. There were a few random shoes, but that was it.

When I walked over to her dresser, it was filled with t-shirts, jeans, and hoodies. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. I grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of sweat shorts. Before I could walk over to dress her in something more comfortable, I stopped because I didn’t want her to wake up and accuse me of being a creep, so I went into the hallway to look for their friend, Sage.

But there was no sign of her, so I called her name and knocked on the closed doors. As I made my way to the kitchen, I saw a piece of paper that had Justice’s name on it.

Junior. I’m going to kill you for getting that drunk, but I’ll let you off with a warning since you came home with that fine as nigga. Plz call me as soon as you wake! I’ll be back in the morning if I don’t hear from you by 9 am. If you got this message via text first, then disregard this one.

Love you, crazy girl

Junior?

I don’t recall Rich mentioning she was a junior. I was going to have him look into that; I never met a woman who was a junior. Actually, I made a mental note for Rich to pull her family information.

I walked back to her room, and she had rolled over; one more roll and she would’ve hit the floor for sure.

I picked up the clothes I had picked out for her and started to change her. She mumbled under her breath and kept reaching for me. What really had a nigga stuck on stupid was when she reached for me and told me she missed me.

That had a nigga feeling good as fuck until my dumb ass brain reminded me that was for Chase, not me.

Shaking off the hurt, I finished getting her situated in bed and was about to dip out until I felt her hand brush the back of my leg. When I turned to see what was going on, she had her eyes closed and was reaching out for me.

“Stay,” she slurred.

“Naw, sweetheart. I don’t think that’s what you really want,” I admitted to her.

She kissed her teeth. “Chance. Please. I need you.” Her words slurred.

Fuck it.

I removed my outside clothes, but kept on my undershirt and boxers before I lifted her up and placed her on top of me as I lay down with my back against the bed. And, as expected, my ankles were hanging off the little ass bed.

She snuggled into me as if she was trying to get in my skin. I lifted the back of her shirt and wrapped one arm around her. I caressed her back, loving the way she fit on me. Her little but curvy, 5’5” frame on top of me felt perfect. Although she felt like home, I was anxious as fuck because I knew I had to tell her the truth. I just didn’t know how or when.

For the rest of the night, I stared at the ceiling and contemplated what was to come. I placed a soft kiss on her forehead and sent a few prayers up to the big guy upstairs before I closed my eyes and drifted off.

CHAPTER 14

Justice

MARCH 8TH

Before I opened my eyes, I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. No, that’s impossible. I felt warm, but not from blankets piled on top of me. This warmth was body heat and a heavy arm around my waist.

I forced my eyes open against the harsh, blinding sunlight, looking up to see that I was lying on top of Chance.

“Oh, shit,” I whispered, but apparently not low enough.

The arm around me grew tighter, and I sensed him shift his hips slightly, making me realize how aroused he was beneath me. I felt my underwear getting damp.

“You always wake up cussing?” Chance asked in a sexy, raspy voice that vibrated against my chest, and despite my confusion, a smile spread across my face.

I sat up carefully, coming face-to-face with him… and damn, he looked better than yesterday. Why did men always look better when they were asleep or halfway there? It was irritating. Chance’s eyes were barely open, his face relaxed, and without that cocky-ass smirk he usually wore, he almost looked innocent.

I squinted, trying to piece together what happened last night, but the last thing I remember is dancing with Chance. I have no memory of leaving or how I got home.

I wondered, “How did I end up here?” I asked.

“Good morning to you too,” he responded with a soft smile.