Chapter 24
The hangar stayed warm even at night. Summer heat soaked into the metal walls and crawled across the concrete floor in slow waves.
The scent of oil, dust, and steel lingered thick in the air, but Meadow always said this was where she breathed the best, right between the plane and the land that raised her.
Since coming back from Emerald City, two slow days had passed…days filled with Magnolia drifting in and out, Ray stretching himself thin, and Meadow moving through the property like she was trying to catch up to a life that didn’t pause just because she needed it to.
Zaire followed behind her with his hands shoved in his pockets, a lazy grin tugging at his mouth as he watched her walk. He didn’t bother pretending he wasn’t staring. He was in love now, so he stared because he could.
Meadow’s hips swung, thighs moving the way he swore was built solely for the purpose to distract him. She looked over her shoulder once, caught him staring, and rolled her eyes even as her lips curved.
“Light flickering again,” she muttered, hitting the switch. The overhead bulb blinked twice then flared to life. “You can sit your impatient ass over there.”
“I ain’t impatient,” he said, settling onto a crate but still watching her.
“You followed me when I said I needed five minutes.”
“I wanted to be where you were.”
She paused, lips jumping like she wanted to smile but refused. “I’m working.”
“And I ain’t stoppin’ you, cuh,” he shrugged.
“That’s a lie,” she shot back without looking at him.
Zaire smirked. “You real mouthy tonight.”
“I been mouthy,” she countered. “You in love now, so you just hearing it differently.”
That got him. His grin widened.
She climbed into the cockpit, checking switches with practiced ease. The muscles in her legs flexed when she leaned in. He watched her like it was his job.
Meadow felt his gaze. She felt it every damn time. “You good?” she asked dryly.
“Perfect…view nice as hell, too.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Zaire got up and stepped closer, arms still folded. “You always act like you don’t like when I look at you.”
“I don’t,” she lied again.
“Aight.” He licked his lips. “Then why your body heat go up every time?”
Her thighs pressed together on instinct, so annoying. “Zaire, stop talking.”
He kept talking anyway. “It’s crazy how you talk all that shit during the day but come nighttime you turn into a problem.”
“And you gon’ turn into one if you don’t move back.”
She stretched forward to adjust the overhead latch. Her ass lifted slowly…perfect…tempting.
Zaire got up from his seat to get closer to her. There was no way she was bent over around him and his dick didn’t brick up. Hands sliding onto her hips, palms firm and warm.
Meadow froze for a heartbeat. “Zaire…move.”
He didn’t move an inch. “Say please.”
She twisted around with a glare that could stop a car. “I will push you out this hangar and lock the door behind you.”
Zaire laughed under his breath. “You talk all that, but you stay right here with me every night.”
“And you stay right behind me like you allergic to distance.”
“Maybe I am.”
She hated how easy he made things sound.
“Back up,” she tried again, voice weaker this time.
Zaire stepped closer until his chest brushed her back. “You don’t really want that.”
She turned in the cramped cockpit, faces too close, threads of their essence bumping. “You real sure of yourself.”
“No,” he said, lifting her chin. “I’m real sure about us.”
That was all it took.
Her fingers hooked into the collar of his shirt and her mouth found his. The kiss wasn’t angry or impulsive like before. It was hungry…familiar, like two people who’d been starving for each other and finally had the space to say so.
Zaire groaned when she crawled into him. He sat down automatically, hands gripping her hips like he was born to hold them. Meadow straddled him, thighs spreading instinctually, her body folding into his like muscle memory.
His chain tapped her chest.
Her fingers threaded into his waves.
He kissed her jaw, her neck, the soft place that made her tremble.
“Zaire-”
“Say it,” he breathed against her skin.
“I’m not saying shit,” she whispered, even as her hips rolled, betraying her.
He kissed behind her ear, his tongue dragging lazily. Meadow’s head fell back. “Stop,” she whined. “You play too much.”
“I ain’t played with you since Emerald City,” he said, sliding a hand under her shorts. “I’m overdue.”
“Zaire please-,” her voice choked when he found her moist skin.
“You want me to stop?” he asked, voice thick.
She didn’t answer.
Two fingers slid inside her, deep and slow.
Her whole body jerked. “You like how wet I am? Say it. Don’t be quiet now.”
“I love how wet you are, baby.”
“Ooo, shit…Zaire.”
Zaire watched her fall apart, breathing heavy against his mouth. “There it go,” he hummed. “Give me that.”
Her forehead hit his shoulder and her lungs struggled to exhale.
“You been walkin’ around all day like you ain’t missed me.” He curled his fingers tapping on her spot over and over again.
Meadow gasped, the taste of his name still in the air, mixing with the sound of her gushiness.
“That’s it, baby.”
Her hips bucked. Meadow rode the wave of Zaire like the best, most intoxicating ride of her life.
His other hand kept her steady. “Let it go.”
Meadow tried hold her moans in. “You feel too good…”
“C’mon, Marai.”
Her orgasm hit before she could brace for it. Hard…deep…full-body.
Her legs shook as she bit his shoulder…her fingers clawed at his back.
He held her through it, murmuring low things into her neck that made her tremble harder.
When she finally stilled, breath ragged, cheeks flushed, Zaire leaned back and wiped her bottom lip with his thumb. “Get off me before I really get into it,” he warned quietly.
Meadow climbed off slowly, embarrassed at how much her legs still trembled. She fixed her clothes and glared at him. “I don’t like you.”
Zaire stood, crowding her again. “I don’t need you to like me,” he whispered while kissing her cheek. “Just need you to keep lovin’ me the way you do.”
Her breath hitched. “Shut up.”
“Make me.”
She pushed past him, shaking her head as she climbed out the plane. “Don’t touch me in my hangar ever again.”
Zaire leaned against the doorframe, his smirk low and lazy. “Then stop draggin’ me out here with you.”
She walked faster, needing to change her panties.
He followed, laughing.
They were in love and neither one of them bothered hiding it.
Meadow wiped her palms on her shorts as they reached the clearing behind the house. The moment they stepped out from between the trees, she stopped walking.
Zaire almost bumped into her. “What you-” he started, then saw it too.
Ray and Magnolia.
Right in the middle of the yard, barefoot in the grass, swaying slow like they were seventeen again and still sneaking off at cookouts to touch each other.
Voyage to Atlantis floated through the old outdoor speakers Ray swore he was going to replace every summer but never did. The sound was a little fuzzy, a little crackled around the edges, but it fit the moment perfectly.
Ray had one hand on Magnolia’s waist and the other holding her fingers. Magnolia had her cheek pressed against his shoulder, humming along even though she was slightly off-key. The breeze tugged her hair, making her look softer than she had all day.
Meadow covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “They haven’t danced in the yard in years.”
Ray turned just enough to see them standing there, then grinned wide.
“Well hell, y’all gon’ stand there or gon’ join in?” he called out. “Ain’t no cover charge.”
Magnolia giggled like a girl, burying her face in his neck.
Zaire laughed low, shaking his head. “OG somethin’ else.”
“No, he’s embarrassing,” Meadow corrected, but she was smiling hard.
Ray snapped his fingers toward them. “Meadow Rain! Bring that fine man of yours over here and quit bein’ rude.”
“Daddy!” she hissed, cheeks going hot.
Magnolia straightened slowly, her gaze drifting over to Meadow with the softest recognition. It wasn’t full, but it was enough.
“Baby… come dance,” Magnolia called out.
Meadow blinked fast, her throat tightening at the unexpected clarity in her mother’s voice. She reached for Zaire’s wrist before she could think twice. “C’mon,” she whispered.
He followed without hesitation.
Ray stepped aside, still holding Magnolia’s hand. “Y’all take center stage. We retire anyway.”
Meadow rolled her eyes. “Daddy, please.”
“I said what I said,” Ray teased, guiding Magnolia to his chest again. “It’s called passin’ the baton.”
Zaire slipped behind Meadow, hands finding her hips like they belonged right there. The music washed over them, warm and familiar.
“You know how to slow dance?” Meadow teased softly.
Zaire scoffed. “I’m from Cali. We invented slow cool.”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
He nudged his nose against her cheek, voice sliding over her skin like velvet. “It’s this right here,” he murmured, pulling her back against him, swaying them both into the rhythm as if his body had been waiting to align with hers.
Meadow sucked in a quiet breath. His warmth draped around her. His palms were steady. His chest pressed against her back. His chin brushed her shoulder.
She wasn’t prepared.
Ray hooted from across the yard. “Okay, Zaire! I see you tryna show out!”
Zaire ignored him.
Meadow didn’t.
“Daddy, hush!” she yelled, but her voice cracked from how flustered she was.
Magnolia giggled again, holding onto Ray like the world made perfect sense for the first time all week.
Zaire lowered his voice. “You good?”
“Yeah…”
“Lyin’ Ass.”
He nudged her waist, guiding her through a slow turn until she was facing him. His hands slid down and settled on the back of her thighs, pulling her closer. “You blushing.”
“I’m Black, Zaire,” she snapped.
“And?” His thumb stroked her hip. “I can still see it.”
She tried not to smile. Of course she failed miserably.
Zaire dipped his forehead to hers. “Just dance with me, Marai.”
Her knees weakened at the name…they always weakened when he called her that.
She let him take her hands and guide her into a slow, rocking sway that fit perfectly with the Isley Brothers’ harmonies floating across the yard.
There was nothing fancy about the way he moved. It was real, solid...steady…made for them.
They danced the way Black men danced when they weren’t trying to impress anybody, just hold somebody.
Meadow rested her hands on his shoulders.
Zaire slipped one hand up her back and pulled her in just enough so her chest brushed his stomach. The height difference had him bending down to make the dance fit better.
“This your parents’ song ?“ he asked near her ear.
“Yeah…Daddy plays it a lot for her,” Meadow hummed, “says her memory holds onto music better than anything.”
The song was just as memorable to Meadow too. She’d watch her parents dance to it for every occasion. Ray used to play it to get out of the doghouse with Magnolia. Meadow only prayed that one day she’d have a song that played like a time machine in her heart too.
Zaire nodded. “Makes sense, song feels like love.”
She swallowed. “Yeah…it does.”
He leaned even closer, lips brushing the edge of her jaw. “You feel like love too.”
Meadow giggled, swooning on every word Zaire ever said to her. “Stop.”
“I’m not stoppin’ shit.”
“Zaire-”
He squeezed her waist just enough to silence her. “Let me handle this…all of it.”
Her chest tightened. Her eyes stung.
He felt it and pulled her into him even more.
Ray wasn’t paying attention anymore. Magnolia’s eyes were closed. The yard glowed with porch lights. Crickets hummed. The night felt safe.
Zaire kissed Meadow’s hairline. “I’ll always…come back to you,” he whispered.
“Can we go all the way together…” Meadow sung with a smile on her face.
“Sing it, baby,” Magnolia said, turning her head in their direction.
So Meadow did.