Chapter Five Xalori Carson
“Mommy?”
Nasir’s soft voice pulled me from my thoughts, and when I looked toward the doorway, the sight of him nearly shattered me.
He stood there—small shoulders slumped; eyes filled with the kind of sadness no child should ever carry.
I tossed my phone aside, forgetting all about the job applications I’d been filling out. Nothing mattered more than my baby. I would always drop everything to be the mother, the superhero, the nurse, and the protector he needed.
“Yes, baby. Is everything okay?” I forced a smile, patting the space beside me. “Come sit and tell Mommy what’s wrong.”
Dragging his feet across the floor, Nas climbed onto the bed, his body settling into mine like he needed to soak up my warmth. The second he finally spoke, my heart clenched.
“I miss Eason, Mommy.”
And just like that, my entire body went still.
His name alone lit a fuse in me—set off every alarm, sparked every nerve ending, had my heart doing flips and my thighs clenching on instinct.
It’d been a week since I opened the door and saw that man standing on my porch like death dressed in designer sweats. A week since I watched him handle Prime like he weighed nothing and dare me—with nothing but a look—to stop him.
I’d been trying to block him out ever since.
His voice. His scent. The heat of him. But Eason Storm lived in my head rent-free.
And of course, he wasn’t making it easy. This man had been sending flowers, gifts, and notes scribbled in that cocky-ass handwriting like he was writing chapters in a love story I never agreed to.
Everything he did was loud, possessive, and calculated. He wasn’t just trying to make me fold. He was trying to make me crave him. And the worst part is, it was working.
I wanted him. I wanted the man who stepped into my storm and looked like he’d been built to stand in it. I wanted his mouth, his hands, his eyes locked on mine while he ruined every excuse I had for keeping my walls up.
And I hated him for it.
“Are we gonna see him again?” Nas asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Or is he gonna disappear… like my dad?”
The ache in my chest twisted hard and deep. That question wasn’t just curiosity—it was pain.
Prime’s sorry ass had abandoned us when we needed him the most. That man didn’t even show up to say goodbye to his own daughter. Knowing him, he probably didn’t shed a single tear. Just sent a check in the mail and one of those generic condolences cards he didn’t even bother to sign.
And as if that wasn’t enough, when we got home from Aaliyah’s memorial service, we were locked out of the house. The same house Nas and Aaliyah had grown up in. The house filled with her laughter, her scent, her drawings taped to the fridge. The house I thought was ours.
And when I tried to call Prime, that bitch ass nigga had changed his number.
After all that, this man had the audacity to pop back up on my doorstep like none of it happened.
Like he didn’t shatter everything we were trying to hold together.
He better be grateful Eason’s stalking, obsessive, and possessive ass got to him before I did.
He better be grateful Eason’s stalking, obsessive, and possessive ass got to him before I did.
“Oh, baby,” I whispered, brushing his curls gently. “I don’t know if we’ll see Eason again. But I do know he’s not like your father. Your daddy missed out on something amazing… but Eason? He sees you.”
Nas lifted his head, that sweet little smile creeping across his face. “Maybe Eason can be my new daddy.”
My whole body stiffened. The fuck he just say?
I forced a soft laugh, even though my insides were spiraling. That man would eat this shit up. He was already too damn territorial, and if he heard Nas say that, he’d run with it, and turn that shit into law.
I kissed Nas’s forehead. “I don’t know about all that, baby. I like having you all to myself.”
And just like that, my heart cracked all over again.
“You’ll always have me, Mommy. But it’s okay to share me with a dad too. I need both.”
That one sentence shattered me. I held him tighter, nodding even though my throat was tight. I couldn’t cry. Not in front of him. Not again.
“How about we shoot some hoops?” I asked quickly, needing the distraction. “Just me and you.”
His eyes lit up. “Really?!”
“Really.”
The court was our escape. It wasn’t much—cracked pavement, a crooked rim but it was ours. A place where I could forget about the stress, the bills, the grief, and the bullshit that came with being a single mother. It was just me and my son, the way it was supposed to be.
At least, that’s what I thought. Until I saw Eason.
Leaning against the gate, arms crossed, smirk wide like he’d been waiting.
My stomach dropped. “The hell…”
Nasir didn’t even hesitate.
“Eason!”
He bolted across the court.
I stood frozen, watching the man I’d been trying to forget catch my son like he’d been doing it forever.
Eason ruffled Nas’s curls, grinning down at him. “You ready to show me that jump shot you been bragging about?”
Nas nodded quickly. “My mommy helped me practice!”
Eason’s gaze slid to mine. “That right?”
“Yeah,” I said stiffly. “That’s right.”
His smirk deepened.
“Guess I should see for myself.”
I glared. “Didn’t know you were the stalker type. I assumed panties flew your way, but you’re looking real thirsty right now.”
He stepped toward me, hands in his pockets, cool and cocky like always.
My heart beating faster the closer he got.
Then he kissed me. Quick and Soft. Just a whisper of lips on lips. But my body felt it. Deeply.
“Hmm,” he murmured, licking his bottom lip. “Just as soft as I imagined.”
He leaned in, breath hot against my ear.
“I wonder if those pussy lips match. Bet they’re sweeter than the words that come out your smart-ass mouth.”
My thighs clenched. My breathing hitched.
“I can smell her from here,” he whispered. “And I swear to God, Muffin, all I wanna do is bury my face between your legs and have that pretty pussy moaning in different languages.”
His lips grazed my earlobe, voice turning to velvet.
“Tratterò bene quella figa, tutto quello che devi fare è ammettere che sei mia e papà ti libererà dalla tua miseria.”
My knees immediately buckled.
“What the hell did you just say?” I breathed.
He smirked. “Don’t worry. You’ll understand when I’m speaking it into your soul.”
“And I’m not stalking bitches, Muffin,” he added, voice laced with dark amusement. “I’m watching my wife and son.”
My eyes narrowed. “How did you even know we’d be here?”
His lips curled into a devilish smirk. “I heard you mention it on the camera.”
I blinked. “You put a fucking camera in my house?” My voice rose, fury and disbelief crashing through me. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Eason shrugged, calm as ever. “Technically, I didn’t put the camera in the house,” he said. “I put the camera in the flowers. You put the camera in the house.”
I stared at him. This man was insane.
And I was wet.
“That’s fucking psychotic.”
He stepped closer, his lips hovering near mine. “Call it whatever the fuck you want,” he murmured. “‘Cause I’ll be whatever when it comes to you. Just know I’m watching my wife and my son.”
“I’m not your anything.”
He tilted his head, grinning slowly and knowingly. “You keep saying that. But your body disagrees every time I get close.”
Before I could fire back, Nas tugged on his arm.
“Eason! Come see my shot!”
Eason grinned, turning his back on me completely. “Bet. Show me what you got.”
Just like that, I was forgotten.
I took a step back, arms folded, watching as Nas grabbed the ball, his little arms barely strong enough to hold it. He dribbled twice, lined up, determination carved into his features.
He missed. The ball clanked off the rim, bouncing off the pavement.
Nasir’s shoulders slumped. “I suck.”
Before I could move, Eason was already there.
“Nah, you don’t,” he said, grabbing the ball. “You just need a little help. Let me show you.”
He knelt beside my son, his hands guiding Nas with a gentleness that knocked the breath from my chest.
Eason adjusted his grip, fixed his stance, and spoke in that calm, steady voice.
“Aight, lil’ man. Bend your knees a little. Keep your elbows tight. Aim right at the center of the hoop.” He gave Nas’s back a light tap. “Now follow through. Take the shot.”
Nas nodded, tongue poking out in concentration. He took the shot.
Swish. The ball sank clean through the net.
Nasir turned, eyes huge. “Did you see that?! I made it!”
Eason grinned, holding up his hand. “Hell yeah, I saw it! That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, lil’ man. Give me some.”
Nas slapped his hand against Eason’s, joy lighting up his whole face. While I felt like I was drowning. Because it was happening. Nas was bonding with him, trusting him, and looking at him like he was his.
And the scariest part was, Eason looked like he belonged there. Like he was meant to be there.
I sucked in a shaky breath, arms wrapped tight around my waist as I fought the storm rising in me.
This was dangerous. This was what I’d been afraid of.
Eason wasn’t just stepping in. He was claiming his place. And from the look of it, Nasir was letting him.
I needed to stop this. Before it went too far. Before we got in too deep.
Before I got in too deep.