Chapter 16
Like always, Zaire was up bright and early, hitting ball after ball.
It was like rapid fire because he wasn’t doing it to practice.
He was just hitting the balls to clear his head.
It had been four days since he had his dick buried deep inside Meadow and he still dreamed of the feeling.
He still tasted her on his lips and he was still walking lightly around her.
They still talked, but something was off.
Their rhythm had changed. Their jokes didn’t land the same.
Their silences were too heavy. Zaire didn’t know how Meadow wanted him to move in front of her people, and Meadow didn’t know if Zaire regretted everything the second the sun came up.
She’d replayed it a hundred times - her hands on him, the way he came back to kiss her after telling himself not to.
And after all that? He didn’t say a word about it, didn’t even bring it up.
So she told herself maybe it was just sex…
maybe she was the only one who felt the whole world shift under her feet.
Zaire thought about it differently. He felt like she was waiting on him to speak first, but he didn’t know if Meadow wanted that.
He didn’t want to embarrass her or move too bold on her land, with her people around, not knowing if she wanted him to stay in his lane or not.
He’d been taught his whole life not to disrespect nobody’s house, don’t make nobody’s daughter look bad, and don’t cross a line you can’t hold up.
But every time she walked by, his stomach bubbled like he was seventeen again.
Now, Zaire was in his head. He tried to keep things cool, but how could he when he had a strong interest in her outside of just sex.
Meadow was soft, beautiful, and sharper than people gave her credit for.
She was the type of woman who walked into a room and made everything in it rearrange itself for her.
She had a mouth on her, talked shit like it was a sport, but underneath all that spark was a tenderness she tried to hide.
A tenderness he’d felt, literally felt, with his hands, with his mouth, with every damn inch of himself that night…
and that was the problem. He hadn’t just fucked her.
He’d felt her, and Zaire didn’t know what to do with that.
He planted his feet and swung again, sending the ball flying into the gray-blue morning. His muscles pulsed, released, tensed, and released again. He kept going until his palms stung and his shirt clung to him, trying to burn out whatever this thing was sitting in his chest.
Every swing, she was still there.
Every exhale, her voice still moved through him.
Every pause, he remembered the sound she made when his mouth was on her.
And every time he glanced toward the house, he wondered if she was awake, thinking about him too, or if he was just another moment she tucked away so she didn’t feel stupid for wanting more.
He hated the thought…hated how it clawed at him…hated how he couldn’t read her as clearly as he wanted to because Meadow was a walking contradiction.
She flirted with him boldly and fearlessly then avoided him like looking at him too long was dangerous.
She teased him, then pulled back like she was scared she liked him too much.
She fed him, laughed with him, worked beside him, but still acted like the night they shared was some accident she didn’t know how to explain.
In Crescent Park, if you wanted somebody, you said that shit. You didn’t dance around it…you didn’t pretend, but this wasn’t Crescent.
This was her land, her life, her rules. And although he hated playing by the rules, he’d humbly concede to hers.
So he moved quietly and he was careful, trying not to show how bad he wanted her.
Zaire was lining up another shot when he heard the sound of shoes crunching against the gravel that lead up to the green.
“Well, well, well…” Rena called out, dragging the words. “Ain’t this the sexy-ass sunrise I didn’t know I needed?”
Zaire closed his eyes. “Good morning…” he muttered.
Rena smiled like he’d said the best thing ever. “What you got going on?”
Zaire looked at her like she was dumb. Instead of answering her, he just lifted his club and swung.
She snickered. “Not a morning person, I guess.”
“You’re here early,” Zaire finally looked down at her.
She was short compared to him, though taller than Meadow. But then again, some of her students were already taller than her. She was truly a short thing.
Rena touched his arm. “You be keeping up with me?”
“More like Magnolia,” Zaire said.
“Oh,” she shrugged her shoulders. “I know Meadow brought you downtown but let me show you how we really party. We can go to the city…it’s way more to do there.”
“Oh, yea?” His brow lifted.
The sound of a low rumble cut Rena off and made Zaire stop pretending to be paying attention. It was so loud, it shook the ground and made his ears ring a little. Craning his neck, he looked up to the sky for it.
Rena squinted. “Oh hell no…not again.”
Zaire dropped his gaze and looked at Rena before the sound pulled his eyes up too.
A small crop duster plane was circling low…really low.
His brows pulled together. “What the hell-”
Rena sucked her teeth. “Meadow…swear she a damn pilot.”
“You lyin’?”
“NO, I wish I was.” Rena pointed as the plane dipped lower, swooping across the tree line. “She waters the grass with that thing and sometimes flies it for the annual Juneteenth gathering. The kids love it.”
Zaire stared, jaw unhinged. “She flyin’ that?”
“Yea,” Rena huffed, “to water the grass.”
“Why?”
“She’s crazy, and bored, and she like showin’ off. I don’t- ”
WHOOSH
A waterfall of cold water dumped directly over them, drenching Zaire from scalp to socks. Rena screamed, stumbling backward like she’d been assaulted by the Lord Himself.
“AHT -AHHHHT - MEADOW!!!”
Zaire stood frozen for a full three seconds, water dripping off his eyelashes. “Cuh,” he doubled over, cracking the hell up.
Rena slapped his arm. “IT AIN’T FUNNY! SHE TRIED TO DROWN ME!”
The plane dipped even lower this time, close enough that they both ducked. Instinctively, Zaire covered his head and Rena dropped into a crouch like she was avoiding gunfire.
“Damn!” Zaire yelled. “She tryna clip us!”
Rena screeched, running behind him. “WHY SHE THAT LOW?! SHE GONNA HIT SOMETHIN’!”
The plane leveled out, then angled toward them again, its engine roaring so loud for a small aircraft.
Zaire put his hands on his knees, laughing so hard he had to breathe through it. He could already tell she was coming back for another round. “She petty as hell!”
SPLASH.
Another sheet of water slammed downward, hitting Rena dead-center and knocking her wig slightly crooked. “MEADOW RAIN GREEN!” she screamed.
Up above, Meadow leaned halfway out the cockpit window, headset on, her pineapple curls blowing wild in the wind. “You in the way!" she yelled down.
The simple saying serving as a double entendre.
“I am going to kick her ass,” Rena groaned, shaking water off her arms. “It’s cool out here too…I better not hear nothing when I’m calling out next week cause I’m sick.”
Zaire could only laugh, but when he looked up, he noticed her wig had slid back a little.
But he was a gentleman always and would always look out for Black women, even when they were thirstily throwing themselves at him.
Reaching out, he pulled the front of the wig back to its rightful place, at least the place he thought it should be.
Rena smiled up at him, hearts in her eyes and gratitude in her heart. “Thank you, Zaire.. I knew I was wearing you down.”
Smirking, he only winked at her.
Meadow brought the plane up, looped the field, and cut the engine noise down as she lowered toward the landing strip behind the barn.
Rena stomped her feet splashing water up. “I’m telling Ray, too.”
“Ahh,” Zaire shook his head, a smile still on his face. “You be snitchin’?”
“Whatever you wanna call it.”
“Yea, I knew you couldn’t be my passenger, baby,” he played hurt, still cracking up and in shock.
“She really flew that damn plane,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Rena glared at him. “You still laughin’? My whole body got soaked! My edges gone! My lashes hangin’ by a prayer…look! LOOK!”
Zaire snorted. “Man, go inside.”
“I AM! And when I get dry, I’m whoopin’ Meadow ass!”
He couldn’t stop laughing. “No you not.”
“WATCH ME.”
Rena stormed off toward the house, squishing with every angry step.
Zaire watched the plane glide down and roll toward its shed.
He watched Meadow climb out, still laughing to herself.
Still glowing with that wild, unbothered energy that made him feel alive.
And all he could think was…He was falling for her… hard…stupidly…against all logic.
And he was in so much damn trouble because Meadow wasn’t impressed by the flash. He knew he had to come hard behind her. But like all things, he loved a challenge.
He walked back inside to change, peeling off his soaked shirt. His phone buzzed on the dresser. He grabbed it without looking.
“Ma?” he answered.
Lesha didn’t miss a beat. “First of all, why I hear water fallin’? You takin’ a shower with your phone on?”
He snorted. “I ain’t in the shower but I was ‘bout to hop in.”
“You been hitting?” Lesha asked referring to him getting up at the crack of dawn to hit the ball.
She hated that her son barely slept and hoped he wasn’t drowning in the need to take care of her.
Because for her son’s sanity, she would happily go back to home health care.
It never paid much but it kept her baby fed and a roof over their heads.
“Always, lady. You good though?”
“I just miss my baby…this big ass house is too damn quiet.”
“The cleaners should’ve still been coming,” Zaire searched the drawer for a change of clothes. He’d put his things up soon after he got to Juniper Falls. He loved organization, it kept his mind calm.