Chapter 7
SEVEN
leo
I turned my head to peer through the glass windows of the house. The lights were on, which meant Ivy was up—not surprising.
The woman didn’t sleep. I knew she worked hard, but damn, I hardly ever saw her resting. Especially not after we accepted guardianship of Baby Love.
I scoffed a laugh, leaning my head back against the headrest. We still hadn’t decided on a name. Every day, every time Ivy laid eyes on that baby, she was trying out names like she tried on designer heels at a boutique.
It was funny—and kind of cute.
I sat in my car, my eyes volleying between the house our friends left us and the empty streets of the neighborhood we now called home.
When Tyrell told me about the land and house he bought in a village outside New York City, I thought he was crazy.
“Couldn’t be me,” I said to him as I shook my head for emphasis. “The house, the wife, and the baby? Man.” I blew air out my mouth. “Miss me with all that bullshit. Please.”
“You’re just out here, 30 years old, big as all hell, and scared of love,” Tyrell chuckled beside me. “How sad.”
“You damn right I’m scared.” I leaned forward in my seat to snatch up a shot of Jack. “So scared, my ass needs to take a drink to calm my nerves that’ve been rattled just at the thought. Fuck that.”
Tyrell and I were in the VIP section in the club he had accompanied me out to in Queens for a special appearance I had.
It was rare for Tyrell to join me for something like this.
Since he and his wife, Kendra, got married, Tyrell didn’t make it out as much.
We used to hit up a concert at least once a year, 90s themed, and then the club after, but I was pretty sure that next year, hitting up the concert with him, his wife, and her best friend Ivy and then the club, wasn’t going to happen with this new baby on the way.
But that night, he insisted we chill since we hadn’t seen much of each other since he and his wife announced their pregnancy earlier in the year. The basketball season had just started for me, and I was either training for games or away playing in another state.
“You know,” I started, “you should probably scoot your ass over a little on this couch so I don’t catch what you got.”
Tyrell tossed his head back in a laugh.
“I’m serious, Rell, please.” I shoved him away playfully. “Move over that way.”
Tyrell shoved me back, which made me laugh.
Club music reverberated off the walls around us. It was loud as hell in the club, but for me, this was my natural habitat. I loved everything about the nightlife.
“The wife already gives me life, and this baby is about to do the same,” Tyrell started. “And the house?” He smiled big like a man who just won the lottery. “The house already is feeling like a home I can’t wait to get into permanently.”
It had only been a month, and it still didn’t feel like home… or anything like what Tyrell was looking forward to experiencing.
For one, Greene Gardens was quiet. Sure, it was a new development, a new town, with very few residents calling it home.
But it was more than that—it was too quiet.
No honking horns, no kids playing on the newly paved sidewalks.
No smells of nicotine or street meat sizzling on grills that probably hadn’t been cleaned in months.
It wasn’t New York City. It wasn’t home to me.
Sometimes it felt like I was driving through a movie lot after hours—that’s how quiet and empty it was.
I did this every night I came back—sat in the car long after I arrived.
Most nights, I wasn’t even coming home from a game or practice.
Any reason to leave the house, I took it.
Club appearances. Grabbing something from my loft in the city.
Hell, even just driving to Manhattan to smell smog or catch a whiff of a dirty tailpipe.
Any excuse to escape Greene Gardens and delay the reminder that my life had flipped upside down, I took it.
Like now.
The only thing that eventually got me out of my car was knowing Ivy was inside.
She’d given up just as much as I had—and then some.
She was in there right now, taking care of a baby she never planned to have.
I was sure she missed the city as much as I did, but she didn’t get the same opportunities to escape it.
That thought—and my mother’s voice in my head—finally got me moving.
“You better not leave Ivy to do everything, Leo,” my mother, Cheryl, had told me when I showed up unannounced at her place.
It was late—almost ten—and instead of being happy to see me, she wasn’t even letting me in.
“It’s just as much of a shock and adjustment for her as it is for you,” she said, standing in the doorway.
“Are you gonna let me in, Ma?”
“No.” She shook her head, leaning against the doorframe. “Because if you’re here, that means Ivy’s home with that baby—alone. And I’m not aiding and abetting.”
I chuckled, shifting my stance on her doorstep. “Excuse me?”
“Go home, Leo,” she said with a knowing smile. “Go be the man I raised you to be.”
I closed my eyes now and inhaled deeply. When was this going to feel like home? When would it click for me to be as hands-on as Ivy? When did it click for her?
My gaze fell to the bags of takeout sitting on the passenger seat.
At the very least, I could bring home dinner.
Since moving here with the baby, I’d taken on the task of getting food from the city—a convenient excuse to escape to Manhattan.
Ivy wasn’t much of a cook, and while my mother made it a priority for me to learn how to cook growing up under her roof, I simply didn’t feel like cooking as an adult.
Between caring for the baby and everything else, we barely had time to figure out a proper meal routine.
We were still sorting through profiles for housekeepers and possibly a cook.
It was a lot.
I sighed, grabbed the plastic handles of the takeout bags, and pushed open the door to step out.
The night was cold. We’d had our first snowfall recently, and people I knew who lived in Upstate New York said it could’ve been worse. They told me I should be grateful for how mild this first winter in Greene Gardens was.
When I stepped into the house, the scent of lemon cleaner hit me.
Everything was in its place—nothing on the floors or surfaces within view.
I snickered as I unlaced my sneakers. I was seconds away from kicking them off when I remembered my promise to Ivy.
I set the takeout bags on the small table by the front door, then removed my sneakers and placed them neatly on the shoe rack she had bullied me into using.
Cleanliness wasn’t my thing. It just wasn’t.
My mom had always cleaned up after me without complaint.
In college, my roommate was just as messy as me, so we only cleaned when we had company—which was often, but it didn’t make us any less messy.
Once I got into the league and started making money, I hired someone to handle it.
And they didn’t complain either—because I paid them well.
Seeing Ivy get all upset over me leaving my stuff wherever it fell was both comical and sobering.
Speaking of which, I didn’t see or hear her or the baby anywhere on the ground floor.
I glanced at my watch, noting it was about the time Ivy would usually be in the office we’d set up after the baby nurse left—or maybe in the kitchen.
Like I said, she barely slept, so the last place I expected her to be was in bed.
Still, I wanted to make sure everything was good before I sat down to eat.
Kendra and Tyrell had done a great job getting this property together before… well, before everything happened. Ivy and I had added our own touches since moving in—our way of trying to make it feel like our own.
I was still waiting for it to actually feel that way.
On the second floor, where all three bedrooms were, only one room had its light on: Baby Love’s nursery.
I hadn’t spent much time with the baby, to be honest. Between games in the city and away, and my own need to escape this new reality, I wasn’t home much. And when I was, I found it hard to be around him.
Every time I looked at him, my heart hurt.
It wasn’t just the weight of being responsible for a life when I could barely keep myself together. It was the way he reminded me so much of what I’d lost.
My best friend, Tyrell.
Ivy always said Baby Love looked like Kendra—and he did. But to me, his mannerisms were all Tyrell. Even as a baby, he was alert like his dad. He smiled like his dad too. His essence, his presence—it was all Tyrell.
And every time I looked into that baby’s eyes, it felt like hearing the news for the first time all over again.
When would that get better?
Because shit—it had been an entire month.
I approached the nursery’s door, which was slightly ajar. The plan was to poke my head in just long enough to let Ivy know I was home. It was quiet. No crying or even cooing from Baby Love, and I didn’t want to risk waking him.
That was another thing I struggled with—being quiet enough not to disturb him. Somehow, everything I did seemed to make him stir. Walking around the house. Greeting Ivy in the mornings. Hell, even breathing.
Ivy, on the other hand, had become a ninja. She could leave a room without making a sound after putting him back to sleep, and even make her coffee quietly in the mornings. She’d adapted. I hadn’t.
And that was just another reason I found myself out of the house as much as possible.
When I leaned in and peered through the door, I glimpsed the peaceful woodland mural on the accent wall. Raising my hand, I prepared to get Ivy’s attention—but instead, I froze.
Ivy stood in the middle of the nursery, cradling Baby Love in her arms. Her long hair, which she usually wore in a neat, slick bun, was down and flowing.
In all the years I’d known her, I’d only seen her hair down twice—once at Kendra and Tyrell’s wedding, when Kendra had bullied her into wearing it loose, and now.
I always knew her hair was long from the volume of her buns, but I didn’t know it was this long now. The ends were just inches above her waist, making her figure stand out more—her curves, her ass, her legs.
She wore a patterned designer robe I hadn’t seen before, one that showed off her full legs and her bare feet. When she turned her head slightly, glancing over her shoulder, my jaw nearly dropped.
Now, hear me out.
Back when Kendra and Tyrell first started dating in college, Kendra had introduced me to Ivy. She’d sworn up and down I would fall for her best friend. And I’d thought Ivy was beautiful, no question.
She had that 90s Jet Beauty of the Week kind of appeal. Ivy resembled the late singer Aaliyah. Light brown complexion, communicative eyes, and picture-perfect smile and all. So, yeah—I knew she wasn’t some ogre. But we’d friend-zoned each other so fast it was like a reflex.
We were too different.
She was uptight, particular, and rigid. Everything I did during our one and only date was an issue.
My jokes? She turned her nose up at them.
My charm? Didn’t work. The small sliver of cleavage peeking out from her blouse?
She’d covered it the second I noticed it.
It was like going on a date with one of my mother’s friends.
Beautiful, yes—but not my type.
Now, though? Seeing her standing there in that robe, her face completely bare—no lashes, no makeup, no lip gloss, just her naturally pink lips and glowing skin—I was rethinking all of it.
“Gahdamn,” I muttered before clearing my throat. “I mean, what’s up?”
She lifted a finger to her lips, signaling for me to keep quiet.
She repositioned Baby Love, laying him against her shoulder and gently patting his bottom to soothe him.
I pushed the door open slightly, taking in the scene as she rocked him for a moment longer. Then she leaned over the bassinet, carefully placing him inside.
My eyes followed the curve of her waist to her round ass, then down to her legs—where they stayed. Legs were my thing. Always had been. And Ivy? She had some sexy legs.
How had I not noticed before?
I must’ve gotten lost in my stare because I didn’t realize Ivy had closed the distance between us until she pressed a finger to my forehead, forcing my gaze back up to her face.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” she whispered, her brows raised in mock annoyance.
I let out a scoffing laugh as she pushed me back and out of the nursery.
She turned to close the door, slowly and carefully, so the lock wouldn’t click.
My eyes wandered again, tracing the strands of her hair to her ass, and then settling back on her legs.
“Did you just get in?” she asked, flicking on the hallway light and turning to face me.
“Yeah,” I said, forcing myself to focus on her face. Not that it helped. Under the light, her features looked even softer.
She stared at me for a moment before asking, “What?”
“Huh?”
“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked, her voice low. “What’s going on with you?”
My gaze drifted off again before she snapped her fingers in front of my face, pulling me back.
When I refocused, I saw the furrow in her brows and the faint smirk tugging at her lips.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, a small smile forming. “You just… you look nice.”
Her brows knitted further in confusion.
“Your hair,” I said, reaching out to take a strand between my fingers. “And this whole look—dressed down. I’ve never seen you this dressed down before. And so… relaxed.”
She giggled softly. “What are you talking about, LV? I look a mess. Please.”
That made me smile wider. “LV. Feels like it’s been forever since you’ve called me that.”
She dropped her gaze to her feet, then glanced toward her bedroom. “I’m going to put something on.”
I wish she wouldn’t.
“You’re good,” I insisted. “I brought food. We should head down and eat.”
She scanned my face for a moment, a smirk still tugging at her lips.
I nodded toward the stairs. “Come on. I got your favorite, too.”
She studied me for another beat before nodding. “Okay, cool.”
I gestured for her to go first. “Ladies first.”
She laughed quietly, obliging as she headed downstairs.
Little did she know, I didn’t insist she go in front of me just to be polite. I just needed another look.
How had I not realized how fine she was?