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justsimplypretty · 5 years

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miss independent - (z.k.)

Storyline: Story about the reader and Zion dealing with him leaving soon for tour. The reader is claiming to be fine with Zion gone but Zion shows her just how wrong she is.

Author’s Note: After much debate I finally decided to post my first imagine/smut EVER! Whew… this was heated to write though it’s crazy. So open to any feedback or request from you guys. Thanks to all the accounts who convinced me to post! Much love!! <3

*Apologies for any grammatical errors I didn’t catch haha*

Warning: SMUT WARNING

Word count: 2.6k

It had been one of the most exhausting days at work yet. You couldn’t seem to get anything right and you were downright a complete mess. Emotionally, you felt on edge all day constantly finding yourself aggravated by the smallest inconvenience. Physically, you couldn’t find an ounce of energy to make it through any task. No matter how many Starbucks coffee runs you had your assistant make or how many Instagram scrolling breaks you took to take your mind off of the day, you couldn’t seem to find a fix. It wasn’t until you hopped into your white exterior, leather black interior Range Rover and began driving to you and Zion’s shared penthouse apartment that it dawned on you.

Zion was leaving for tour in the morning and as much as you refused to admit to yourself all day, it was hitting you harder than you anticipated. You and Zion had been together almost two years now. And though this wasn’t your first tour experience with him, it didn’t make you feel any less gloomy about being apart from your best friend for so long.

See, last time he toured it didn’t go so well. Coming home was so lonely, FaceTime with him only made you miss him more. And whenever you did fly to see him preform for the night, it only ended with you in tears, embraced in his arms with a tight hug at the airport the next morning. He hated seeing you like this so much last time that when talk of a new tour began amongst the boys and management eight months ago, he almost backed out. But after much convincing to him that you would be fine and too overwhelmed and busy with work to even be sad by the whole tour, he agreed to go. “I can take care of myself Z I’ll be fine” had become a repetitive phrase for you these past few months. But it wasn’t until this night drive home and a quick glance down at your watch, realizing Zion’s flight left in eight brief hours made you come to the conclusion that you’d been lying all these months. To yourself and most importantly to Zion. You really weren’t doing well with the thought of him leaving. But you knew you had to keep the act up for just a little longer. Just long enough for him to continue believing you won’t be a complete train wreck so he could board the flight. Because you knew deep down inside he would postpone the first few shows if he knew your true feelings.

You pulled up into your reserved spot in the garage of the complex, and immediately pulled yourself together trying not to seem like a thousand thoughts had been running through your head in this short twenty-five minute car ride home. On the long elevator ride up, you prepped yourself with some encouraging, but clearly untrue words. “You’re gonna be fine… he won’t even be gone that long... six months of him living on the road is nothing… you don’t “need” him here to be okay…you can take care of yourself…” you said lastly with impeccable timing as the two elevators doors opened and you stepped into the living room. You threw your black vintage Channel bag down that Zion had bought you a few months prior and immediately began scanning the apartment for him.

You ended up finding him in your shared bedroom, emptying the drawers one at a time setting the clothing into either one of his many suitcases.

“Baby… I didn’t even hear you come in” he said walking over to you as he tossed the t-shirt in his hand back into the drawer so he could hug you. He wrapped his firm arounds around your waist as your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck. He placed a couple light kisses on your cheek before looking back into your eyes.

“Yeah I was pretty silent coming in” you trailed on. You must have had a rather somber tone in your voice when you spoke since it caused Zion to turn his head a little sideways in confusion. You continued talking.

“Um i’m going to take a quick shower so we can head to bed. Gotta be up super early you know.” And before he even got the chance to respond to your rather short comments, you quickly ran into the bathroom, closing the door, and turning the water on high. You let out a huge sigh in relief of having escaped the many questions you were sure Zion had about the way you were acting. Since Zion knew you better than anyone else, you were sure he knew something was up. But again, you just needed him convinced that you were okay enough for him to leave.

You took the longest shower ever in hopes that Zion would be asleep when you got out. That way, you could just crawl into bed question free for the night. You threw on your go to black lace pajama set and opened the bathroom door. You walked into the bedroom to find him sitting with his back against the headboard of the bed, shirtless, scrolling on his phone. You quickly tried to crawl from the bottom of the bed to the top, in a hurry to get to sleep and avoid Zion. But he stopped you half way on your crawl up by his legs.

“Woah woah woah what’s the rush to get to bed tonight?” He said bringing your legs over so you were now sitting in-between his. “I’m just tired Z and we have to be up in a few hours that’s all” you said trying to sound as carefree as possible. “You’re sure that’s all?” he questioned. “Positive” you snapped trying to just end the conversation. “So this has nothing to do with me leaving for tour in the morning right?” he replied catching on quickly to the cause of your unfamiliar behavior. “Why would it? I told you for the millionth time I can take care of myself while you’re gone I’ll be fine” you said with a bunch of attitude, but still not feeling convinced in your own mind. You apparently didn’t sound to convincing to Zion either as he quickly raised a brow at you.

“Really? So what about when you’re bored at home alone?” he said. “Easy, I’ll just call the girls over for a movie night” you said confidently referring to the other girlfriends of Prettymuch.

“Oh yeah? And what about when you’ve had a stressful day at work?” he continued to list. “Simple, I’ll just take the next day off and book a spa appointment instead” you reassured him being proud of your two for two correct answers to Zion’s questions.

“I see… so what happens when you need to feel good?” he teased with a smirk on this face. “When what?” you said acting like you didn’t understand his question when in reality you knew all too well what he was referring to. “You heard me. When you need to feel good…” he continued as he brought your legs from in-between to around him so you were now straddling his lap. “…when it’s late at night and you’re squirming in our bed… and you’re turned on and needing me so bad you just can’t take it anymore” he said in a deeper and slower tone than he had before. “I-I’m going to take care of myself then too” you said slightly stuttering over your sentence. “Oh word? You sure about that baby?” Zion replied as he placed both hands on your ass and continued to rub lightly.

“Yes…why you don’t think I can?” you snapped while trying to avoid the feeling of his hands on your body. “I mean I’m not denying you can but I can promise you one thing…” Zion said. “And what’s that?” you replied rolling your eyes. “It won’t feel as good as having me deep inside you…” Zion whispered into your ear sending chills through your whole body.

Part of you wanted to give into him right then and there and tell him he was right. Nothing felt as good as having him inside of you. But you knew you had to keep him convinced that you’d keep it together without him around. “Oh yeah? Guess I’ll have to show you just how good I can make myself feel” you insisted as you got from on top of Zion’s lap and back in-between his legs. This time, you laid with your back against his now hard as your head rested on his toned stomach. You wiggled your way out of your shorts and began rubbing yourself from outside your laced panties. Zion watched with shocked eyes from above. He had never seen you so determined to prove him wrong. Especially with something like this. He didn’t know what to do or how to feel but what he did know is that you looked insanely sexy touching yourself in-between his legs. You continued going with light moans escaping your mouth.

You were so intent on him seeing you pleasure yourself without his need. “Take them off baby and let’s see what you really got” Zion said as he watched you slide the lace down. You went as slow as possible taking them off, turning Zion on even more than before. Once they were off, you let your fingers continue. You moved two of them in fast motions over your clit just the way Zion would normally start out on you. “Ughhh baby…” you moaned out in pleasure. “Slide your fingers in mamas just like I would do next” Zion snapped with so much lust in his voice it made you more wet with every word. You inserted both of your fingers going slowly as you adjusted around them. Your head flew back and you were immediately met with Zion’s eyes above you.

“I know your body all to well baby…” he said as he begin to whisper into your ear. “…and you’re going to have to go much faster than that if you want to make yourself cum” he continued causing you to pick up your speed. After a few minutes and more encouraging words from Zion, you were a mess laying against him. Moaning and screaming from pleasure. His eyes never left you as if he had never seen something so beautiful yet so sexy in his life. You could feel the effect you were having on him with how hard he was all pressed against your back. At this point you knew, if Zion was the one pleasuring you, he’d stop right here and begin fucking you senseless until you came for him. And that was all you could think about. Him sliding so easily inside of you, stretching you out to this unexplainable yet overly pleasurable feeling. And suddenly, before you knew it, your fingers were no longer filling you up the way you knew only he could. And as much as you didn’t want to and completely refused to do earlier you felt it was only right to finally admit.

“Z baby…” you moaned still fingering yourself getting little to no pleasure.

“Yes angel? What is it?” Zion said as he lowered his face to meet yours. “I-I fucking need you” you surrendered to him.

The smirk that came over Zion was one of complete satisfaction. Zion knew you were a very independent person. You had been long before you met him. It was one of the many things that he adored most about you. You didn’t need him for financial boost, social boost, or even confidence boost. And he knew this all too well. You had all three on your own. But something about you needing him sexually. You being so needy for his pleasure. And you being so willing to do whatever to receive it… drove him crazy.

“Tell me what you need from me (Y/N)” he replied. “I n-need you to f-fuck me please” you continued your stuttering with quick breathes. “Oh but I thought you could take care of yourself babygirl?” Zion teased. “I-I just can’t baby please I’m begging you I need you” you yelled. “Gosh just fuck me Zion” you continued still trying to find the slightest amount of pleasure in your own fingers. That was the last thing Zion needed to hear before he flipped you over, pulled your shirt from over your head, and placed you on all fours.

He got off the bed and quickly removed his pants and Calvin Klein boxers in one quick motion. He then dragged you by your weak legs over to the edge of the bed where he stood, slowing inserting his tip into you. He teased for a little before you lost it. “No teasing daddy ple-“ you tried to say before being interrupted by him slamming into you. He gave you no time to adjust to how big he was. You were a total screaming mess. Profanities flying across the room from both of you as your wetness trickled down your legs. The legs you were certain wouldn’t allow you to walk tomorrow. But you didn’t care. All you could think about was how good your boyfriend was making you feel right now. Going faster and faster as the minutes went on.

“Keep throwing it back for me mamas…” Zion said with breathy moans. You did as you were told and kept it going back for him. He slapped your ass every so often which only made you want to go faster for him. “Gosh you’re such a good girl for me baby you’re t-taking me so damn well… f-fuck” Zion said stuttering from the immense pleasure he was feeling of you being wrapped around him. You knew you’d get a few complaints in the morning from neighbors about how loud you two were being, but neither of you cared.

“Who makes you feel this good baby tell me” Zion demanded as he grabbed a hand full of your hair causing your back to arch. You couldn’t handle the sensations flowing through your body. You couldn’t even form words at this point. “Tell me baby or I’m going to stop and let you take care of yourself” Zion emphasized, mocking your earlier remarks of being able to make yourself feel this good. “Only you Z only y-you.. fuck I’m cumming..” you screamed. “Let it out for me angel... let me feel you cum for me” he ordered. Your climax hit you harder than ever before as Zion followed quickly after feeling you clench around him.

You fell onto the bed, weak legs and all, still gasping for air. Zion giggled as he went over to his suitcase grabbing a t-shirt and shorts, then placing the large graphic tee over your head and the shorts on himself. He crawled into bed with you swiftly facing you towards him and placing a kiss on your head. “How am I suppose to leave you in a few hours after that? You need me baby” he said with a little sadness in his voice. For the first time all night, you were finally honest with Zion when you said “I need you more than ever…” with so much love in your eyes. “…so looks like I’ll be joining you more on tour than we had originally planned” you continued with a smile. Zion followed you with a smile appearing across his face also. “Sounds perfect to me” he said pulling you into him.

“I love you so much Z” you said. “You’re everything to me baby I love you” was the last thing you remember him saying before your eyelids became heavy and you fell into a deep sleep, feeling at ease with the upcoming tour for the first time tonight.

#prettymuch #prettymuchsmut #zion kuwonu #zion smut #zion imagines #prettymuch imagines #nick mara #edwin honoret #brandon arreaga #austin porter #pmwriting

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aleapoffaithfiction · 4 years

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XV.

"When love touches us, it dissolves the walls of misunderstanding and builds a bridge that helps us walk towards each other."- Mimi Novic

“We’re doing the whole set today. You’re on a roll my man. Let’s finish up strong.”

Don’t ask me what the hell a gastrocnemius-soleus complex is because I certainly don’t remember it although I majored in Human Movement back at LSU. Supposedly, I should feel it all in my calf but I can’t deny how much I’m feeling the pressure in my ankle too. Rather than using a chair for support, we’re on the stairs with my hand firmly grasping the banister with both of my feet pressed down onto the bottom step.

“Come on. You got this.”

My glare swiftly panned up from the steps and landed on Sarai, who stood at the very top of them with her entire leg purposefully exposed to me. The Nike shorts she snagged out of my closet are so loose on her, that she was able to easily pull up the half leg of material to the very top of her thigh. Like a hitch hiker attempting to quickly garner the attention of a driver, she wiggled her leg and ended her antics with a wink that instantly sent my trainer and finally myself into roaring laughter. As ridiculous as it looked, it was by far, the most hilarious aspect of all of her comical actions put forth all morning long to keep me as motivated as possible during today’s physical therapy process.

As soon as my alarm went off at six, I was up to start the day and so was she. We stood together at the sink, brushing our teeth while unnecessarily splashing one another with water so either she or myself would move out of the way so one of us would be able to rinse first.

I won.

I’ve never utilized the granite bench inside of the shower until she disrobed herself and stepped inside with me. What was supposed to be a quick wash turned into a waiting time that I’m sure my trainers were not pleased with, though they patiently waited downstairs with Ben. Just the sight of her impeccable body was more than enough to further ignite my need for her. She’s a goddess in her bare state. The seamlessness in her milk chocolate skin radiates in a manner that triggers me to gawk at her and completely lose awareness of both my surroundings and daily purpose beyond our moment. It’s like waving a steak in front of a hungered wild jungle lion. I will never not pounce at the opportunity to be with her; inside her.

I left her in the room after scolding her back into the bed because she’s certainly not over the flu. The silence from the second floor influenced me to believe that she’d gone back to sleep, but when she thought I wasn’t paying attention, she crept downstairs has and been observing our current rehabilitation process ever since. I would be lying if I didn’t admit to working two or three times harder than my usual under her gaze. Her presence alone served as a motivating factor to cease the sometimes-negative state of mind I tend to fall into when I reflect on all that needs to be done to get me back out on the field. I never look forward to hearing what the media has to say about me, whether bad or good, but like anyone else within my field, I cannot help but to pay attention to it because it’s there and unless you completely shut yourself off from the world, it’s inescapable. In looking at my lady this morning, I’m looking forward to hearing what she has to say when she’s reporting about my explosiveness at training camp and the redemptive comeback season that I’m going to make sure that I have. I have to win it all. I’ve sat far too long for me to not come back and get it done.

“Good job champ. You want to take a break?”

“Nah. Let’s keep going.”

Another two and half hours went by; sending us well off into the early afternoon. Not even the smell of lunch and Sarai and Ben’s loud banter from the kitchen served as a distraction. Perspiration covered nearly every part of me as I trekked up the stairs to the bathroom for a shower and though I took one, it was pointless due to my desire to sit inside of the steam room.

When I first took a walk through of the house with the realtor, I snickered at the idea of a steam room being in the house, let alone me sitting inside of it. I’ve always looked at that as a spa type of a situation that mostly women enjoy. I’m not even into the cold or hot tub rehabilitation practices after extensive workouts at our training facility because my patience tends to wear thin after standing or even sitting there for over ten to fifteen minutes. After moving in, I would walk past it for a while without even considering giving it a try no matter how many times my momma raved about it, but after one mentally draining day earlier this year I needed some time to myself and I chose to sit in there to be away from any outside distractions in the house and most of all, from my phone.

The more technology advances, the more we’re unable to set our phones aside from an extended period of time. They’ve become our source for everything; communication, entertainment, keeping track of health, research, and just about anything else that the internet is able to aid us with. We’ve reached a point of not being able to help ourselves with the manner in which we crave to have them in our hands. We panic when the battery hits below seventy percent, we’re buying portable chargers or begging people to use theirs whenever we’re out of the house or car, and a lot of the time we’re timing just how long we’ll be somewhere based upon how much charge is left. I’m guilty of it, so I have no room to pass judgement on anyone for it. I’m trying to get better at it stepping away from it though and the steam room has been one of my forms of discipline.

With my phone sitting in some other room, I’m able to be one with my thoughts. It’s my time to sort through the clutter in my head to figure out where I’ve gone right, where I’ve gone wrong, and what needs to improve for the betterment of my mental space and what’s happening around me. There are times when I’m sitting there without much of anything to concern myself with and I’m just trying to find a place of relaxation. Today might be that. In the midst of the workout, I was able to management my thoughts. Now, I’m just trying to get these aching muscles together.

“May I join you? Maybe I can sweat the rest of this flu out.” My eyes instantly opened to stare at the beauty of Sarai’s face and I used my hand to gesture her inside. Like myself, her smooth skin was covered with a pure white towel while her braids were pulled up into a sloppy bun with a few strands of them falling all over the place.

“The little green light outside gave away your hiding place.” Her presence sitting alongside me only intensified the warmth swarming my frame. Like a magnet, my eyes glanced over at her illuminating legs as they stretched out in front of her and she blissfully sighed at the feeling of peace.

“It’s okay. I’m willing to share it with you.”

What I thought was solace prior to her presence didn’t feel quite like it does with her here now. Every exhale soothed the tension from the hours of training as the drawn-out inhales of her intoxicating scent drowned me into a drunken elation. The dampened skin of her arm brushed against mine with her slight movements, leaving trails of chills trickling onto various areas of my awakening frame. My every sense instantly became hers to control; hers to summon for anything she desires. She is my peace and yet she is a flammable fluid to the flames; igniting me for what is sure to be severe and fiery. My once tightly closed eyes, ripped open and glinted over at the calmness radiating from her and I wordlessly scolded myself for having every intention to interrupt that. My teeth wrenched my bottom lip when the tips of my fingers met the very top of the delicate towel and our glares instantly met as I unraveled it to reveal everything that I wanted.

“Come here.”

Without hesitation, Sarai stood to her feet leaving the towel idly lying on the bench and gradually straddled my lap in the exact manner that I yearned for her too upon the sight of her. Inexorably, her supple lips meshed into mine, sending a bliss spiraling through every aspect of me. My eyes closed yet again, but it wasn’t darkness I saw. Bursts of colors flashed before me, alleviating any remaining tension I may have had while melting away my awareness of anything beyond the two of us.

As soon as my lips peeled away from hers, I trailed them over any area of her moist skin that was within reach. Her hips bucked, beginning a purposeful tormenting as she grinded into my lap. Foreplay or anything of its sort were the last thing on her mind, prompting me to battle with my lead and her own.

“Don’t make me wait.” And just like that the stiffening worsened along with the tight grip I had on her hips. Just as I had reached for her towel and successfully removed it minutes ago, she was now reaching down between us for mine.

“I never do.” My tongue laved over her nipple causing a sharp hiss to spill from her lips.

With one arm lifting her up to give me just enough space, I was able to discard of my own towel. To feed my ever-going curiosity, my fingers slicked along the wetness oozing from her while unified grunts filled the steamy space around us. As my thumb strummed over her most sensitive point, the impatience worsened. Her fingers raveled into my hair, lightly tugging at it to draw me in for yet another kiss.

“You gon’ ride it?”

“Please.”

I didn’t need to hear anything else.

Within seconds, she was lowering herself onto me; sending a rush of uncontainable chills nipping at every nerve ending I have. The profanity that left me was instant. The warmth from the steam was no longer relevant because it was of no match to the heat of her throbbing flesh snugly wrapped around me. My arm locked around her waist for some form of self-composure, but I failed in what I sought out as she unhurriedly rocked to and from me. Any form of control I thought I have ceased as soon as my head met the wooden wall behind me while my eyes watched her perform.

“Damn, Sarai…” The unparalleled sensation was one thing but her damn near mythical like aura in the midst of it was sending me into a wild delirium. Her skin gleamed, under the dim lighting. The sheen of perspiration covering it only enticed me to lick at her; satisfying any thirst that I have. The perkiness lightly bouncing on her chest sent my attention span into a frenzy as I constantly panned my eyes between her face and them. I’d sound like a dickhead if I thanked God for her getting sick, which then granted me all of the time I’ve had with her this week, so I won’t. I’ll just be thankful for the time and how much we’ve been doing this since she starting feeling better.

A piercing yelp filled my ears as I pulled her down, further deepening myself into her. Shudders washed over me, leaving my mouth agape in a disbelief. I could hear Ben calling my name in a distance from the door, which prompted me to cover her mouth with my own, in a hushing kiss. While it lowered the timbre, if he stepped to and stopped in front of the door, we’d be guilty as charged. The reality of that was of no interruption to our moment or Sarai’s hips.

“Shhh…” My warning against her lips evoked a grimace to form on her gorgeous face as she pulled the bottom one in-between her teeth. With every touch of her finger tips to my scalp, an electricity nipped at my skin, shutting down any aspect of composure I was trying to keep and evoking the animalistic aspect of myself that I only know to show itself on the field. The only healthy drug that exists; she is that. My escape; she’s become that. I don’t know or realize any sense of time when she and I are together; I’ve surrendered myself completely to her without fear of any outcome that our future fate may be.

And in my addiction to every aspect of her, I am secured in knowing that I am not alone in what I feel. I know it to be true in the way that she steals glances of me when she thinks I’m not paying attention. I can hear it in her tone when she’s encouraging me and recognizing the greatness that she takes pride in me having. I recognize it in the way that she looks after me while also holding me accountable to properly look after myself. I can feel it in everything; her kisses, hugs, caresses, shit right now. Right fucking now.

“Fuck!”

My throat tightened while my grip on her hips tightened even worse than they already were. It was her turn to kiss me into a muffled silence. My heart’s writhing against my chest quickened. Our hazy eyes remained locked on one another while a mutual ecstasy arose. Any self-awareness I had left relinquished itself to her world; allowing me to bask in what is unlike any other that was before her and anymore never to come. Our cries voiced out against our lips, hers before mine as I wanted it to be and yet mine soon after.

Breathlessly, I continued to kiss her as our frames shuttered, relishing in the elation.

“You think he heard us?”

“I don’t care.”

And I don’t.

Despite the sweat suit and North Face coat serving as a protective barrier over my body, the brisk whirling air swarmed and numbed me to a standstill as while I watched the doors run around the backyard area to stretch themselves out. Though it hasn’t started yet, the cloudy sky gave warning for the pending snow that should be making its presence known by sometime tomorrow morning. The weather reports are inflicting fear within the tri-state area with their eight to twelve inches predictions but I’m assured in all of it being an over exaggeration.

For the most part, since I’ve been living in New Jersey, we usually never get as much as they say we are. Sometimes, I anticipate one of those historic blizzards and the concept of being snowed in the house but the reality of the headache that is the clean-up process settles in and my mind swiftly changes. Also, being snowed in the house is only a cool situation depending upon who you’re snowed in with.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit too cold out here for them?” I glanced back to find Sarai halfway outside of the sliding glass door fully dressed, but without the barrier of a coat or shoes. Just as I’d been doing, she quietly glanced up at the sky to assess the shift in the weather.

“It’s not too cold for them. It’s too cold for you. Get back in the house.”

“Did you forget that I was born and raised in Brooklyn, Nola man? I’m not fazed by the cold.”

“Yeah, but you’re not completely better yet. Don’t mess up your progress. What’s with the clothes? I thought you were just going to throw on something from my closet to longue around in.”

“I was, until I realized that it’s going to snow tomorrow. I’m going to have to drive to Brooklyn to make sure the ground is salted in front of my mom’s house. Actually, I’m probably going to have to go to the store to buy the salt. She never remembers to get any. Then there’s my house. That’s the part about being a homeowner that sucks. Usually my neighbor is kind enough to help out without me even asking him to, but I don’t want him to feel like I’m depending on him to do it.” To further disregard my request for her to go inside, she stepped out of the door just a bit more and summoned Mowgli to her with two pats to her lap.

“Your neighbor?”

“Yeah, he lives a few houses down from me. He’s damn near sixty-five years old and has a wife, who he’s been married to since he was twenty. It’s admirable.”

“Forty-five years of marriage? Wow.”

“Exactly. They’re still super smitten by one another too. He looks out for me from time to time when it comes to stuff like shoveling snow or putting ice down because he views it as a man’s job. He has that old fashion aspect to him, although I think it’s silly.”

“It’s not silly. It’s proper. I can go to your house and put the salt down. Just give me the keys. You can go to do what you need to do for your mom, so that you can come straight back here.”

“Don’t worry about it. The last thing I need is you getting hurt trying to pour salt everywhere. I have it under control. Besides, you need to spend some time with your friend. I’m sure he’s tired of seeing my face around here. I’m not one hundred percent but I feel a lot better. We can switch back to our normal roles of me as your nurse and you as my defiant patient now.”

“Ben doesn’t pay bills in my house.” My response wasn’t amusing to me, but it certainly was to her. Her laugher was loud enough for both myself and him to hear it, if he’s nearby. Last I remembered, he was sitting in the kitchen, frowning, and complaining about sometime. I wasn’t listening.

“Yeah, but he’s here visiting you. How fair is it that I’m intruding on that?”

“Intruding? I want you here.”

“And you want him here too. Be fair.”

“So, you’re going home?” I knew the answer to that question and yet I still asked though it’s the last thing that I want to hear. I thought she’d be here until she goes back to work. We don’t ever get stretched of time to be around one another in the manner that we’ve had this week and to say I’m spoiled is an understatement.

“I’m like ten minutes away. If the snow isn’t too bad tomorrow, come and see me. If not, I’ll come to see you.”

“Or you can just stay.”

“Don’t be stubborn. You’ve had me for days.”

“Hmm.” Khan darted off to retrieved the nearly deflated football I threw off to the far left. It was in a good condition days ago, before he sunk his teeth into it and put tiny holes around its perimeters.

“Don’t be like that. Come and give me a kiss.”

Rather than walking in her direction, I remained in place to purposefully taunt her with my slight irritation and pigheadedness. She remained just as amused as she’d been when I mentioned who pays my bills. It wasn’t long before I felt her warm body wrapping itself around me. Her giggles were muffled as she pressed her face into the back of my coat while clutching my as tight as she could.

“You are so stubborn. Kiss me.”

“No problem.” I lifted my arm so she’d be able to swing around to be in a closer proximity to my face and I pressed my lips into her forehead.

“Kiss my lips now.”

“Take off your pants.”

“Not those! Come on. I want to get to the store because people are ridiculous when winter storms are coming.”

To oblige her plea, I finally leaned down to give her the “see you later kiss” she needed before parting ways with me for the day. If she just stayed, we could be kissing all day long.

“I’ll call you when I get in the house.”

“Alright. Drive safely.”

“Will do, handsome. Eris, you want to come home with me?”

“No, she does not. Leave my child right where she is.”

“You’re so petty. She loves me. They all do, actually.” Though I waved her off, I know they do. She spoils them whenever she’s around and she’s starting to get them accustomed to jumping up on my furniture. We’re going to have to have a talk about that though, because they know better and they’re going to continue to know better.

“If you’re going to be a momma to my dogs, we’re going to have to split their bills. The vet, grooming, and feeding them isn’t cheap.” We smirked in unison. “I can do that, for as long as daddy is splitting momma’s bills.”

“I can do that for as long as momma is splitting on daddy’s….”

“Okay, okay, shut up! I’ll call you.” Her hands flew up in surrender at the shift in the conversation and she blew me a kiss before stepping back inside.

Aside from rehab, I really haven’t done anything this week other than shack up in the house, as old folks call it. That’s never been me. Since coming into the league, sitting still hasn’t been something I’ve been able to do and I’ve gotten so accustomed to constant movement, that I’m even doing so when I’m on my own personal time.

Whether it’s New York or L.A., there’s always something going on and I somehow find my way being a part of it. Most would attribute it to my age and lack of a personal responsibility aside from myself, but there’s also an aspect of loneliness to this life that you don’t realize until buying anything that comes to mind starts getting old, visits from the family aren’t as frequent because they have their own lives, and having your friends in your face twenty four seven isn’t as entertaining anymore.

My first three years in the league was filled with more partying than I ever experienced. I went from being a young twenty-one-year-old thinking I was coming into this solely to focus on playing football and to provide for those that I love, but that catch exposed me to a totally different aspect of all of this and I definitely got wrapped up in it. A lot of analysts now reference to me as a superstar celebrity who just so happens to be a great professional football as either a deliberate insult or as an unnecessary excuse for the poor attitude, they believe I have. I’ve had fun for sure, but there’s been something about being under the radar while dealing with my injury that has not only humbled me, but also exposed me what I wasn’t seeing in the midst of the partying and drinking.

I don’t miss it at all. It sounds crazy to even say or contemplate, but I don’t. I guess that’s what meeting the right one does to you? It’s a joke that I even laughed at Shep for the way he quickly became head over heels in love and obsessed with everything about Chanel. We used to tease him as a collective whenever he raved about her and humorously dismissed him from our childish Apex Predator’s Club but it’s really starting to feel like I’m dismissing myself too. Am I really clocking the fuck out?

Sheesh.

“Aye. Struggle Face. What the fuck we getting into now that you decided to bring yo ass up for air?”

“I’m about to make some calls for invites. Game night. Order some pizzas and wings.”

“Or we can all just go to Bowlmor Lanes.”

“That’s cool too.”

I guess getting out for some air in Manhattan could be good for me.

I pride myself on my capability to be well rounded in most sports, but bowling is equally a hit or miss. On a good day, I’m embarrassing anybody who steps up to the lanes, but tonight, I’m getting by ass handed to me by both Shep and Ben’s asses. I won the first round and I’ve been in a slump ever since. Maybe it’s because I mentally clocked out an hour ago.

“I’m so mad that we didn’t bet money. I could have been blowing a bag over at the Supreme store right now.” Because I drove, I passed on the alcohol. I’ve been babysitting this glass of strawberry lemonade for a while now. The ice already melted in it.

“I’m letting your ass win.”

“Aye Shep, you hear this sore loser?”

“You know O hates losing. He doesn’t even mind that he’s a sore loser. He’ll tell you that he’s one himself.”

“I will. I don’t mind losing here though, because this shit doesn’t count and I’m not going full out.”

“Now he’s not going full out. Man, whatever. I’m kicking your ass fair and square. You lucky I ain’t put it on the ‘gram and embarrass you even more.” Ben stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth and stuck up his middle finger at me as he chewed them. His lead isn’t even that impressive for him to be talking all of this smack, but I’ll let him have it.

“What’s been up with rehab bro? I know we touched on it before, but how’s it been going since I was last over there?”

“It’s been good. We ramped it up some more and we’re incher closer to working on stamina and agility. I still have those sore days but it’s nothing that I can’t handle. I’m just glad to be back on my feet.”

“Word. We ready for you to bring your ass back. The locker room’s been dulling without you. I been trying to hold it down, but it’s not the same.” It’s always good to hear that. This season has been a tough one to watch from home. The possibility of making it to the playoffs was nowhere near possible. Lost wise, it’s the Giants’ worse season yet. It’s been frustrating to even think about. We were already zero and four going into the game where the injury happened and not much momentum picked up from there.

“I’m working. Can’t wait to be back brother.”

“Yeah, he’s working, playing nurse, and practicing how to make kids all at once. That’s one multitalented mu’fucker.” A bit of Shep’s drink slipped out of the side of his mouth as he snickered at Ben’s slick ass commentary.

“Wait. What you mean?”

“Sarai moved in.” As soon as the lie left Ben’s lips, I sucked my teeth.

“Damn, y’all moving like that already?”

“You really believe this dumbass? She caught the flu and stayed with me until she was feeling better. Since she wasn’t going to work, it just made sense.”

“So, you’ve hung up your cleats to become a nurse now? Okay, house husband. I see you.” Their laughter came with justification. I deserve that. I did it to him for a while, so it’s only right that he does it to me. I can be a sore loser, but in this case fair is fair. The joke’s on me.

“Real funny.”

“You should have seen him. He had Renee in there making all these soups and teas and shit. He was bringing that shit upstairs to her, giving her medicine, and rubbing stink ass Vicks on her.”

“Did you do the choo choo train or the airplane when you were bringing the spoon of medicine towards her mouth?” If Victor was here, he and Shep would have been going back and forth with the jokes endlessly. I definitely miss having his guidance around. He’s still my family nonetheless.

“Ya’ll done?”

“You called me high maintenance for dating a supermodel but you’re with a sports analyst.”

“He’s dating the enemy Shep. I thought you hate the media.”

“I don’t hate the media. I just think the media doesn’t give people the opportunity to grow; well at least some of them don’t. They stick to one narrative about you no matter what you do. Other than that, it’s whatever. I have a lot of respect for plenty of the sports reporters. I love Kim Jones. Kobe and Chad are great additions. Cris Carter is cool. We speak from time to time.”

“But everybody loves Sarai Nazaire though. I’ve never anyone say a bad thing about her. If anything, dudes have been plotting on ways to get at her. You saw Otto at Chanel’s party.” Of course, he’d bring that up. He’s just as entertained by it now as he was that night.

“That’s not important.” I’ve heard more than enough of it. She’s locker room talk no matter where you go. Her name will randomly come out of someone’s mouth at a social gathering and most of all, when I’m surrounded by a bunch of guys who can’t help but to shift the topic of conversation to women they’re trying to turn into another notch on their belts. It’s no lie that she’s a popular name within those conversations, but the part that always remained interesting was her lack of acknowledgement and attentiveness to it. It’s what made them deem her to be intimidating and arose questions of whether she’s a “bitch” in person or not. Of course, she’s never been anything of that sort, which worsened plenty of desires.

I get it. When I was sitting across from her during the interview we did up in Bristol, I could barely focus on what she was saying. My mind was on everything about her other than her words, but by the grace of God I was able to pay attention just enough not to expose myself. Granted, I made the running joke of a video about guys who lust over her, so I wasn’t as composed as I wish I was.

“Does your mom like her?”

“Yeah, she loves her.”

“Yeah, probably because she has a legit job. I can’t say the same thing for all of your past situations.”

“Keep talking shit and you gon’ have frost bite all over yo’ ass from being kicked out in the snow.”

I finally gulped down enough of the watered-down lemonade to leave the glass half filled. My phone vibrating in my pocket captured my attention next.

I miss you.

I wasn’t expecting that. I figured she’d had enough for me for the week, hence why she left but clearly not. I can’t suppress my smile even if I tried to.

I miss you too.

I missed her as soon as she left me standing outside with the dogs.

I grabbed a couple of things from the grocery store and couldn’t help but to grab your favorite snacks. Maybe you can stop by for a little while?

Sarai’s about to have me go out like a sucker in front of my friends. Shit.

I’ll be there in less than an hour.

“I know that look. That boy is out of here. Ben look at him. He’s about to bail out.”

“We’re done playing anyway.”

“We paid for two more games. You really about to leave? If you do, I’m never going to stop making fun of you. Oh, and I’m replacing you with young Shep as a friend. This man is getting married and he’s sitting right here.”

“By the time you get back to the house, I’ll probably already be there. Don’t sweat it. I’ma bust your ass in Call of Duty before the night is over.”

“Nah, we done. I’m never coming back up here again. I’m keeping my ass in Florida.”

“You’ll be back.” I had to laugh. His over exaggeration never ends.

“Yeah, but not to visit yo’ sucker for love ass.”

“Shep, I’m gon’ plan something at the house right before Christmas. Maybe two or three days before. Come through.”

“I’ll be there.”

“You want me to drop you off at the house or yall gon’ stay and play those games?”

“I got him. We’ll play and head back.”

“I’m bringing a gang of bitches back to your crib with me.”

“Whatever.”

As soon as I pulled my hood over my head, I stood up from the table and began to quickly make a dash towards the exit. The pending snow fall left the place without as much of a crowd as they usually have, which allowed me to not be approached by anybody for anything. I usually don’t mind it, but sometimes people don’t understand when you want to have a moment of normalcy without having to stop for pictures. It almost starts to feel like you’re in a fish bowl or like you’re a zoo animal caged in with all of these spectators just looking at you and waiting for you to do something to entertain them. Any moment where I can be out on the scene alone or with people without much hassle is a moment that is appreciated tremendously. I already have slight paranoia of what that type of stuff will be like when I’m a parent and I’m out somewhere with my kid or kids.

Rather than taking the Henry Hudson Parkway straight to Fort Lee, I took New York-495 West into New Jersey 495 West because it was the better route and had no traffic whatsoever. That less than an hour time frame I gave her was a promise kept because I was parked on her street no more than thirty-five minutes after my departure from the city. Yet again, my hood was over my head as I jogged up her steps. Aside from the elevator, another great aspect of Sarai’s house is the view of the river. I always take a glance at it while I’m standing outside. Tonight, it looks even better with all of the holiday lighting covering all of the houses. Her banisters are wrapped with white lights and there’s a wreath perfectly hanging on her door.

“I didn’t think you’re get here this fast.” Our kiss was short and sweet. I could taste whatever chocolate she was enjoying. “And you drove the Rolls Royce. Really?”

“It’s usually the only one I drive.” It’s always funny to see her in Giants gear. It takes me back to when she questioned me about my assumptions of her being a fan or not.

“In front of my door though?”

“Sometimes you’re a bit too humble about who you are. It’s never going to be a surprise that you know people with money. Something smells good. You cooked?”

She stood there and continued to eye my car as I followed the fume of whatever was coming from the kitchen. I had wings while bowling but I have more than enough room for whatever that is.

“Shrimp alfredo. I made a Caesar salad too. Wine is on the counter.”

“I’m on it. Thank you, baby.”

“Uh huh.”

She stood at the door for as long as I was in the kitchen it seems because when I was on my way to the living room with my plate, she was entering with me. The dim lighting set the mood for whatever movie she had on pause.

“What were you watching?”

“The Preacher’s Wife. Whitney is so flawless in this.”

“This is a good one. I’d probably say The Grinch is one of my favorites, but I just enjoy watching A Christmas Story with my step-father Derek because he laughs at it like he’s never seen it before. I mean, he laughs until he has tears in his eyes and it just makes me laugh.”

“I laugh at it too. Ralphie is hilarious. My dad loved that movie.”

In the midst of me stuffing my face with arguably the best alfredo I’ve had aside from my aunt’s; Sarai became one of those people who everyone hates to watch a movie with. If she wasn’t mumbling along to every line that came out of Whitney Houston’s mouth, she was singing along to the songs while bopping that small head of hers. I had to tune her out when she began to rave about how fine Denzel Washington is because I’ve heard enough of that from my momma. He’s absolutely one of the elite actors’ period, I don’t even need to mention his blackness, but there’s a universal attraction to him amongst women of all age groups. He and Idris Elba are always the ones being mentioned.

“Baby.”

“Hm?” I noticed it when I sat down earlier, but it became all I could focus on once I returned from putting my empty plate into the kitchen. While her porch looked as festive as it needs to be, the blandness of the Christmas tree sitting in the corner of the room didn’t make much sense. Around it is boxes of what I’m assuming are the decorations that are supposed to be on it and rather than having the Christmas stockings hanging from her fireplace, they’re randomly piled up together on top of it.

“Why haven’t you decorated the tree? The porch looks great, but what happened in here?”

“I don’t know.” It was mumbled dismissively. She didn’t even bother to look in the direction of the tree.

“You didn’t have time or something?”

“I guess not.”

“Or you didn’t remember to do it?”

“That too.”

“Or you were planning to do it right before Christmas Eve?”

“Exactly.”

“Sarai.” I used the tips of my fingers to turn her head towards me. I kept her jaw lightly in my grasp to stop the frivolous lies in response to my questions. Eye contact became a challenge because she chose to look past me instead of looking directly at me. The once joyous expression on her face as she did her best to match Whitney’s unparalleled tone morphed into an anguished that she did not want me to see or experience. The glossiness in her eyes stifled me.

“It was a tradition between my dad and I. We used to do it together every year. I lost interest in it.” Guilt punched me in the gut at full force.

Her answer was already playing in my mind before she said it. Sorrow only fills her eyes at the subject of him. Typically, she grimaces in frustration when speaking about her mother. The strain between the two of them is a subject she tends to avoid but I’ve picked up on bits and pieces of it. For her sister, she’s usually rolling her eyes and scoffing at the manner in which they’re polar opposites. For her father, his death still torments her as if it happened just a few months ago or less. There’s a void within her life that leaves the pain of his loss weighing on her shoulders and hanging over her like the darkest cloud. The avoidance makes sense.

“What if you and I make decorating the tree our tradition? We’ll continue it together. The memories of you and your dad will always be special. I’d like to honor that with you by breathing life into the tradition again.” The questioning glare she held eased into a quiet contemplation with her own thoughts about my suggestion. If she turns it down, I’m okay with that. I’ll never force it.

“You can say no. I’m okay with that. I won’t push it.”

“There has to be hot chocolate with a lot of marshmallows in it. I’d usually bake cookies. I don’t have any cookie dough in here but I do have those butter cookies that comes in the tin can. You know the ones black moms keep everything but cookies in? Motown Christmas has to be on. My mom isn’t biased and can listen to anyone sing holiday music but for him, it always had to be Motown. Oh, and hats. They’re a must.”

“Okay, I’ll put on the water for the hot chocolate and I know Apple Music has to have the Motown stuff. We can do all of that.” A rush of excitement urged me to leap off of the couch and dash towards the kitchen.

“There’s no need to put water on. I have a Keurig. The box of Swiss Miss k-cups is in the first cabinet. The marshmallows are in there too.” We were a distance away but I heard her loud and clear. While the first cup brewed, I used my phone to look for the music we’d need to really set the mood for what we’re about to do. I don’t know the first thing about decorating a tree because my momma always does it for me, but I’m about to make Sarai’s look like something out of a catalog for the sake of seeing her smile.

“I found a bunch of albums baby. Which one?” “The one with the purple cover. It should have clouds and flowers on it too with something like a picture frame in the middle. I think that’s one of the better albums.”

“The one with The Temptations, Stevie Wonder, Smokey Robinson and The Miracles, and Diana Ross and The Supremes?”

“That’s the one.”

I connected my phone to the Beats Pill she keeps in the kitchen to use while she’s preparing for something and hit play on the album she specifically requested. Michael Jackson’s childhood voice blared into the kitchen’s space immediately. As she dug through the boxes, I left the speaker and my phone in the living room so I’d have free hands for the cups of hot chocolate. Within minutes, I returned with those, with marshmallows spilling over just how she requested it.

“So how do we start this?”

“Well, we don’t have to worry about lights because it’s already pre-lighted with color and clear LED lighting, so I guess we just have to put the other stuff on.”

“Why do you have an artificial tree instead of a real one?”

“Because they shed and I’m not a fan of the smell.”

“Not a nature kind of a girl huh? Noted.”

“No, so don’t ever think you’re taking me camping.” Aloofly, her fingers scratched at her braids while we stood in place attempting to visualize exactly how this tree is supposed to look. I guess you just throw garland on it or something, right?

“Well, maybe we should figure out the color scheme first?”

“I have red and white ornaments, red and gold ones, or red and green. They’re sets and they’re all separated. Which set?” Is this supposed to be so complicated?

“All of them?” Our eyes met while I shrugged. It makes sense. They’re all Christmas colors.

“Okay. I guess it could work.”

Her once tidy living room began to look like a holiday catalog vomited in it as we dumped boxes of decorations everywhere in an attempt to figure out what we were going to do. Once those hats were secured on our heads, we frolicked in silver and gold garland while vocally butchering one song right after another. I didn’t realize I knew so many holiday classics until now.

“Alright, so these are tree picks. You just randomly place them anywhere. Just make it look good, I guess.”

“So, in here?” I stuck one in the velvety red petals into the tree and slapped my hands together to rid them of the gold glitter that donned the edges of the petals.

“Yeah. Like that.”

“Baby, what’s that Run DMC Christmas song?”

“Christmas in Hollis.”

“That’s the one.”

I grabbed my phone to make the switch and just as she knew I would, I start dancing around the living room. I hit any old school dance that came to mind with my camera on to capture it as I did so. She didn’t leave me out to dry. Once all of her laughing was over with, I had a dancing partner yet again. She one upped me by knowing the lyrics, so I had no choice but to go harder in the dancing area.

“Mariah! We have to hear Mariah next.”

“You have to perform it though. Lip sync battle.” “Put it on.”

She may not be able to sing like Mariah. That New York Giants may not be what anyone would consider holiday comfort wear. The sloppy bun she pulled her braids up into may not be what most would consider an ideal hairstyle. They can all go to hell too. All five foot five inches of her danced around the living room in what is by far the most flawless performance of the infectious song. An empty tube that once held golden ball ornaments was her microphone and I was the affection of her eye. I drowned into her essence so much that every lyric suddenly felt like they were written for and about me. The gleam in her eyes illuminated the living room far more than the lights beaming from the tree and the heated glare of the fireplace. Her smile? Infectious. My cheeks were beginning to ache because of my own. I’m never doing karaoke with her.

“Your turn!”

“Nah, you got it.”

“Oh, come on. Pick a song.”

“I’d fall flat after that”

“You better not show anyone that video either. I know I look dumb as hell.”

“You look adorable.” A light mush to my head came instantly.

With an arm hanging over her shoulder, we stood together and observed the work we’d done on the tree. I’m not sure what else we could add. We’ve been at it for hours, putting stuff on, taking some off, and replacing it with what we thought would look better. A little bit of this, a little bit of that, and whatever else.

“Wow.”

“Right.”

“That looks…”

“Like shit.”

“Right.”

We cackled knowingly. It looked like crap all along and yet we continued with carelessly placing all that she had anywhere we saw fit to place it. We had no real strategy or methodology. We sought out fun and that’s what won in the end.

“It’s our shit though.” That prompted me to kiss her forehead. “I needed this. Thank you.”

“I don’t need a thank you. I’m just glad we did it. We can fix it in the morning.”

“No, it’s staying just like that. It’s so funny.” I think Charlie Brown’s struggle tree might look better than the clutter we have sitting in the corner of the room.

“What would happen after you finished decorating the tree?”

The curtains were drawn back just enough to display the falling snow outside. The flakes were thick and beautifully cascading to the thin sheet covering ground.

“A movie; usually my pick.”

“Well, what’s your pick.”

“A Miracle On 34th Street, with ice cream.”

“We’re going from hot chocolate to ice cream?”

“Yes. I’ll fix it. You put the movie on. It’s already in my purchases on the Apple TV.”

Under a red and black flannel throw, we closely curled up on her plush couch with chocolate fudge sundaes. Mine was practically melting as the bowl rested on the coffee table near the sectional. Our legs intertwined at random points while she laid back against my chest savoring every remaining bit in her own bowl. As if she’d never seen it before, her concentration on the film never faltered but I was only able to massage her scalp through her braids while mentally reliving this entire week, including tonight’s festivities.

Shep’s question at Chanel’s birthday party came to mind. I couldn’t and didn’t answer it then.

New York has never felt like home until now. Everything I feel is so peculiar and yet so addicting. It’s absolute, with indescribable and infinite measures. In the midst of a time that I thought would be traumatic and chaotic, I’ve found an unimaginable peace that I have innately gravitated towards and come to cherish more than just about anything else going on in my life. What felt like a bleak future beyond my professional life has now opened up sharp visions of a path to take that will ultimately lead me to a fulfillment. I’ve gone from dreaming about what life would be life with the woman I came to admire on my television screen to now never wanting to envision life without her.

I’ve always heard to love is to genuinely want more for someone than you could ever want for yourself and there’s nothing more that I want than for her to have all of the goodness this shallow world has to offer.

Without being hesitant or unnerved I can confirm his question. It’s without a doubt.

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