Chapter 15 #2
Juniper was only a short drive to the city where it was booming with a melting pot of people and the fast life people in Juniper hated.
Meadow loved having the best of both worlds.
She shook her ass in the city now and then, but smiled like the sweet girl Ray and Magnolia had taught her to be when she was in her small town.
“Hey,” she waved to the people she knew, her cheeks puffing her eyes tight.
And at the far end of the bar, leaning against a booth, fitted tee on, gold chain glinting stood the other man in her world.
Brent spotted them as soon as they stepped in. He lifted his chin smirking cheekily. “Well, damn.”
Meadow groaned under her breath. “Here we go.”
Zaire smirked. “Who that?”
“Brent,” she muttered. “And don’t start.”
Zaire ignored that.
Brent walked over. “Well look who decided to step out.”
Meadow plastered on a polite smile. “Hey Brent.”
He looked cute and on a regular night when Zaire didn’t exist, he looked great. But standing next to Zaire, Brent just didn’t compare. His presence didn’t shake her in a way that made her want to double check that she looked good.
Zaire cut in, tone smooth and disrespectful in the most charming hood way. “You sell?”
Brent blinked. “Sell what?”
“Weed, cuh.”
Zaire was from the slums and he could spot a lame ass dealer a mile away. In Juniper, Brent was probably revered as a better man…a man with funds. But where Zaire was from, Brent would be nothing but a nigga making just enough money.
Brent looked him up and down. “You the golfer right?”
The small town talked and Zaire’s name had floated around.
Zaire shrugged. “Sometimes. You got somethin’ or not?”
Brent smirked. “I might.”
“Cool.” Zaire nodded toward the back booth. “Let’s do business, then.”
Meadow grabbed his sleeve. “What are you doing?”
“Handling something… Relax, baby.” Zaire winked.
Brent nodded toward the table he came from. “Y’all can sit with me... I’m in town to make a few drops.”
Meadow shook her head. “We’re good.”
Zaire’s grin sharpened. “Nah, let’s go. I wanna see this through.”
Meadow whispered under her breath, “Lord give me strength.”
Brent smirked because he heard it but loved a challenge too.
Zaire followed Brent with a slow swagger, Meadow trailing behind, already knowing this night was about to get complicated in a way she did not have the patience for.
Brent’s table sat in the back, lit by neon beer signs and the glow from the jukebox that hadn’t worked since 2017 but still looked important.
Zaire slid into the booth like he was good anywhere he went. Meadow sat beside him, inside the booth. She was sandwiched between the two of them but she sat closer to Zaire than Brent.
Brent clocked it.
Zaire knew he clocked it.
But nobody said anything.
Brent pulled a small vacuum-sealed pouch from his jacket. “This good. Came straight from the city.”
Zaire nodded, took the pouch, cracked it open and inhaled. “It’s straight. You got cigars or you expecting me to ask the bartender for paper?”
Brent smirked and reached into his pocket again, tossing a pack of Backwoods across the table. “Dark Stout.”
Zaire caught it mid-air, one-handed. “Attaboy.”
Meadow choked, her eyes bulging because Zaire was a menace. She knew he had a hood edge but sitting in the bar with him, she could tell it was still in him more than he wanted the world to know.
After unwrapping the package, he cracked the leaf open with his thumbs. Meadow pretended not to watch, but her eyes refused to mind their business.
Zaire shifted the pouch closer, tapping a few buds out, breaking them down with his fingers, and rolling the leaf between his palms to soften it.
Then he leaned over the table, forearms bracing, and started rolling.
His fingers were steady…his movements were smooth…his lips were ridiculous.
And she was mesmerized by the sexy way his tongue slid across the paper seal before he tightened it with two twists.
Meadow had to look away but her pussy had already seen it. She purred louder than she’d ever purred and it was like Zaire heard her because his eyes found hers, which seemed to be begging Zaire to put his lips on it and swirl his tongue against it like he’d done the blunt wrapping.
Brent caught her watching. He smirked. “He do that too good, huh?”
Meadow shot him a look. “Brent, please.”
Brent laughed. “My fault.”
The bartender slid over, wiping her hands on a towel. “What y’all drinkin’?” She shifted her hips. “Hey Meadow.”
“Hey, girl.”
Brent answered before Meadow could. “Rum punch for her. She always gets that.”
Zaire didn’t look up from the wrap. “Put it on my tab,” he told the bartender. “The whole table.”
Meadow kicked him under the booth.
He didn’t lift his eyes…just smiled.
“I’m good, Hayley,” Brent declined the generous gesture.
Zaire chuckled under his breath. He didn’t care one bit if Brent paid for his own drinks. All he knew was, that nigga wasn’t paying for Meadow’s.
Hayley popped her hip again. “And you?” she looked at Zaire, smiling at how fine he was.
“Anything brown and from the top shelf, baby.” Zaire was still focused on the task at hand. “Would you happen to have a lighter for me?” He finally gave Hayley his eyes.
Much like Meadow had, Hayley had to blink a few times from how sexy he was.
Zaire had a double take type of fine. But it went beyond the physical.
It was he way he talked, the way his lips always looked moisturized.
Just everything about him that made you confident in yourself, when you had his attention.
Hayley nodded absentmindedly, reaching in her apron pocket. “Here you go.”
“Thank you,” Meadow pushed herself forward, just enough to remind them of her presence as if that mattered. Zaire was not hers to claim but she’d be damn if he flirted with anyone when the seat of her panties were soaked.
Hayley rolled her eyes once the ember of the flame brushed across Zaire’s blunt. He passed it back just as charming as he talked to her. “I’ll have your drinks right up.”
“Bring me another one,” he tapped his glass. Brent reminded her he was still at the table. It wasn’t top shelf but no one would know that.
“Gotcha,” Hayley cheesed, switching her hips as she walked off hoping Zaire was watching the handful of ass she had.
“Well, well, well…ain’t this cute?” Rena swayed over in a tight skirt, her face curved up into a grin that meant trouble. She leaned on Zaire’s side of the booth without shame. “Hey, Zaire,” she flirted, eyes dragging over him like she had the right.
Zaire was poker-faced.
Meadow was annoyed.
But Brent was entertained.
Meadow sighed. “Rena…”
Rena popped her lips. “Meadow.”
Brent gestured to the booth. “You can sit with us if you want too Rena.”
“I ain’t moving the the inside. Pull up a chair or somethin’.” Zaire offered.
Rena did what he asked, pulling a chair up to the end of the table as close to him as possible. Zaire shifted half an inch…not enough to be rude…just enough to keep some between them.
Meadow grinded her teeth and she huffed out air but kept her words to herself.
Brent leaned in. “So what’s the deal? Y’all on a little date?”
Meadow scoffed. “Brent please shut up.”
Zaire looked at Meadow instead of Brent. “We out…that’s all.”
The way he said we made Meadow’s cheeks warm.
Rena caught it. “So, Zaire…you famous-famous or just Instagram famous?” She knew the answer but wanted to make conversation with him in any way she could.
Zaire shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”
Rena sucked her teeth. “Well, I ain’t never seen you till the other day.”
“Damn,” Meadow muttered. “Try again, girl.”
Brent choked on his drink.
Zaire chuckled under his breath. “She always talk like this?”
Brent nodded. “Every day.”
Meadow tossed her hair. “And y’all keep coming back.”
Zaire inhaled the blunt and leaned back, admiring his work. “Like clockwork.”
The bartender returned with their drinks. “Rum punch for the lady…top shelf bourbon for you, Zaire and Hennesy for you, Brent.” Hayley looked at Rena. “Tabs on him.” She pointed her head towards Zaire. “What you getting Rena?”
Rena eyes lit up. “Oh, something fancy.”
Hayley chuckled. “I gotcha boo.”
“What does that even mean?” Meadow chirped. When the question rolled off her lips, Meadow and Zaire cracked up.
“Little inside joke?” Brent looked between the two of them, confused on what was so funny.
“Just a joke.” Meadow rolled her eyes.
Zaire slid Meadow’s drink closer to her without looking. “Hold that.”
She rolled her eyes but took a sip. A hefty sip, knowing she was gonna need it to get through the night.
Zaire inhaled the mid weed slowly, then passed it to Meadow.
Brent leaned back laughing. “She don’t smoke.”
Meadow glared. “I do what I want.”
She snatched the blunt, determined to prove something. Maybe to Brent, probably to Zaire, definitely to herself and ended up inhaling it way too fast. The smoke hit her lungs like fire.
She tried to play it off but failed. She coughed so hard the table shook.
Rena shrieked with laughter and concern.
Brent nearly spit out his drink because that was what she got for trying to show out.
Zaire took the blunt back, shaking his head. He pushed her drink to her lips. “Here, baby.”
Meadow moved on auto pilot, chugging the sweet drink like her life depended on it. Some of it dripped down the corner of her mouth.
Zaire reached forward, his thumb brushing the drop away, slow and warm. “Let me handle that,” he murmured.
Meadow became flustered and gulped the lust that clogged her throat.
Rena blinked like she’d been slapped and Meadow was trying to steal her man when she had another great candidate next to her. It felt selfish to Rena knowing men were few and far between in Juniper Falls.
It didn’t take long for the weed to have Meadow feeling like she was floating…warm, dizzy, and giggly. Her shoulders dropped…her cheeks flushed…her smile widened for no reason.
“What you laughin’ at?” Zaire asked, leaning into her space.