Zaniyah’s POV (Leaving Yannie’s House)

“I’ll text you later, Roro.” I wave as I leave Yannie’s apartment building.

I pull my phone out, nearly dropping it when a car horn startles me. I look up.

“Texting your man?” Michael smirks.

“Oh, he wishes,” I tease, climbing into the passenger seat.

The delicious smell of his cologne hits me immediately.

“You always smell so damn good.”

“Just for you, babygirl.”

I lean over, whispering in his ear as my hand slides down his pants. “Mmm, what about this? Is this just for me too?”

He bites his lip, his breaths getting heavier.

“Can’t wait, can we?” I kiss his ear softly before abruptly pulling my hand away.

“Something like that,” I smirk.

“Such a tease,” he chuckles.

I pull out a spliff and motion to him. “Light that, lil’ momma.”

I waste no time sparking up, leaning my seat back to get comfortable. I take a few hits before passing it to him.

“You staying with me tonight, or your lil’ boyfriend gonna be mad?”

I roll my eyes playfully. “Damn, everyone missing me today, huh?”

“Damn, I got competition?”

“None yet, I fear,” I say, taking the spliff back.

“Bet. Pack for the week.”

I raise an eyebrow. “A week? You’ve never asked me to stay that long before. You falling for the kid?”

“Maybe I am. Or maybe I wanna assert dominance in this love triangle.”

“More like a pentagon, hun,” I shrug.

He cocks an eyebrow. “Oh? You got it like that? Make it a month then!”

I laugh. “Pleaseeee. You don’t like people in your space that long. I doubt you’ll last a week, let alone a month.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Aight. If I last a week, you gotta post me and clear a drawer for me.”

I smirk. “Fine. If I win, I get posted too — plus a shopping spree.”

He extends his hand; I grip it firmly. Shaking it with the utmost confidence. Easiest shopping spree yet.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

He pulls me in for a kiss, but my phone rings, interrupting us.

He peeks at the screen. “If it isn’t your lil’ boyfriend,” he teases.

I roll my eyes and answer. “Hey, T... No, I’m busy tonight... I might be, why?... I—”

“She’ll let you know when she leaves my house, bro bro,” Michael butts in.

I slap my hand over his mouth. “Yeah, I’m with him... That’s my business... You knew what it was when we met... Loud and wrong, I knew him first... Yeah, I’m finna hang up, you tripping.”

I shoot Michael a look. “Ughhhh. Why must you do this EVERY time?”

He laughs. “Why must he call EVERY time you’re with me? Nigga needs to learn his place.”

“You know, for someone who’s not my boyfriend, you sure love ‘marking your territory.’ Which I AM NOT.”

Still laughing, he licks his fingers and slips his hand down my pants. “I know my place, baby, don’t worry.”

I try to contain my moan. “Y-you are a pain in my a-a-ahhh—”

“Mmm. Tell me more.”

He pulls over a few doors down from my house. Before I know it, my pants are at my ankles. He glides over my clit before slowly sliding his fingers in. He bends, kissing my clit softly. Slightly pausing between each kiss.

“Stop playing,” I breathe heavily.

Looking up at me with a devilish grin, he lowers himself above me, whispering in my ear, “Say please.” he demands, kissing down my neck. His fingers still caress my insides

“P-Please...”

“Please what?”

“Please, baby.”

“Mmm. I like the ‘baby,’ but that’s not what I meant. Say it. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Please...” I moan, grabbing his hand. I bring his face to mine, kissing him deeply. “Please suck on my kitty,” I mutter before pushing his head down.

He kisses my clit again, flashing that devilish grin at me one more time. “My pleasure.”

Those were the last words I heard before I drowned in bliss.

He tosses the wipes back in the glove box and shoots me that famous cocky grin that got him added to my roster.

“Shut up,” I roll my eyes, fixing my jeans.

He puckers his lips. I pinch them before giving in. “You’re lucky you’re such a good eater,” I say, kissing him one last time.

“And I’m picking dinner tonight. Hmph.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I close the car door as he chuckles. I hold my keys tightly, trying to slip inside quietly.

“ZAYNE!”

I roll my eyes. Great. He’s home.

“For the last time, my name is Za-ni-yah!”

“Well, your mother and I named you Zayne.”

“UGHHHH!”

I rush up the stairs, bursting into my room. IDGAF what you named me. This is who I AM... why can’t you just accept me for me?

I sigh, blinking away the tears before they fall.

You know what? A week it is.

“ZAYNE!”

I hear him stomping up the stairs.

“ZAYNE. I’M TALKING TO YOU!”

“I don’t know who Zayne is. Maybe you should leave a message.”

“Why do you have to be so difficult?!”

“WHY MUST YOU CONSTANTLY DEADNAME ME?” I snap. Me, difficult? Is he serious?

My dad sighs. “Zayne, I’m calling you by the name your mother picked. How do you think she’d feel, you killing off the name along with her, huh?”

“DON’T. Don’t you dare. Mom gave me her blessing. Even on her deathbed, she saw me for me and nothing less.”

He shakes his head like he’s trying to physically shake away the idea that his wife loved me as I am.

“I’m not having this conversation again.”

“So don’t.”

He sighs again. “Zayn— Za— I... I’m going to be gone for a few weeks. I got an opportunity overseas. It pays well, and it'll help me pay off some debts.”

“Ok.”

“I’m leaving in two days. Picked up a shift at the hospital tonight, so I won’t be here. I’ll leave you some cash just in case.”

“Ok.”

“Y—” He stops himself, like always. Just say it. You never hold back when disrespecting me.

“I... I’m going to get ready for work.”

“Cool. Safe trip. I won’t be here when you get back. I’ll be at Aurora’s for the week.”

“Alright. Tell her I say hi.”

“Mmhm.”

He walks out, looking defeated. Don’t. Don’t feel bad for him.

I take a deep breath and finally let the tears fall. I wish you could understand me… I wish I could understand you.

My phone buzzes, snapping me out of it.

#1EATER 🖤🔥 -  “Don’t tell me that nut knocked you out.”
“As if.” 

I chuckle, packing my bag. Maybe a week won’t be so bad. I can always run to Roro’s if needed.

I throw one bag over my shoulder and hold another on my arm.

“I’m leaving.”

“Later. I— Um... be safe.”

.

I turn the knob, pausing for a moment. I love you, Dad, I whisper in my head before walking out. Sometimes I wish I could hate you .

I exhale deeply, shaking off my feelings as I swing open the car door.

“I have arrived.”

Michael turns to me with a smile. “My queen.”

I chuckle, tossing my bags in the backseat before climbing in. I pick the spliff up from the ashtray, relighting it.

“So what are we eating?” he asks, sliding his phone into my lap.

“Hmmm... I’m in the mood for seafood. You feeling a boil?”

He nods. “It’s whatever you want, babygirl. Imma stop by the gas station on the way, so wait like 10–15 minutes before placing it.”

“Ouuu, can I get snacks?”

“What did I say?”

“Whatever I want,” I grin big.

At the gas station

Mikey hops out. “I’ll fill the pump. You go get the snacks.”

I kick my sneakers off, tossing them in the back before digging in my bag for my slides.

I hop out and lean on the hood. “What you want?”

“Surprise me.”

As I peel off, he slaps my ass.

“You know what I like,” he winks.

I smirk, texting the group chat as I walk inside.

I glance up at the counter — a pretty Asian girl behind the register. Oh she Brave. I could never work a late shift, especially at a gas station.

Lost in the options the sound of door chimes causes me to jump a bit. Mikey’s head pops over the shelves.

“Scaredy cat,” he teases.

“I was immersed in the snackage! Hush.”

He takes my basket and starts digging through it.

“Hmm... after reviewing your selection, thine immersion is excused.”

“Why, thank you.” I curtsey.

He laughs, grabs another basket, and we fill it together.

“I think we have enough to last a few days,” I say, examining the overflowing baskets.

“We definitely do,” he agrees.

The cashier asks, “Is that all?” staring directly at Mikey, ignoring me completely.

He looks over at me.

“Yeah, we’re good,” I say, replying to both — but mostly her.

“You smell really good,” she says, voice dripping with ‘fuck me’ energy.

“Thank you—”

“Jaime,” she interrupts, pointing to her name tag.

“Thank you, Jaime. I make sure to wear her favorite,” he says, wrapping his arm around my waist.

She bites her lip and looks me dead in the eye. “You have great taste.”

I smile big, barely hiding my annoyance. “Thanks. Jaime.”

“Your total is $52.78.”

He taps his card and grabs the bags as a man should.

“Have a good night, Jaime,” he says.

“You too, handsome,” she flirts boldly.

“Aww, no good night for me?” I tease, nudging him.

“I always give you a good night,” he smirks, throwing his arm around my shoulder.

As soon as we close the car doors, laughter erupts.

“Here we go,” I brace myself.

“I don’t ever wanna hear you complain about me interrupting your phone calls again.”

“Uh-uh! That doesn’t count. This is different. She didn’t even know what our relationship was, and even after assuming, she still had the audacity to flirt in my face. Weird asf.”

He grabs my chin. “Awww, babygirl. I like this jealous look on you.”

I shake my head free. “Yeah, yeah. Just you wait. I’m gonna make this week a living hell for you. Get ready to take me shopping.”

“I live to serve you,” he laughs, kissing my cheek before pulling off.

A few days later (Wednesday & Thursday)

I wave my hands in his face to distract him as the hit combo builds.

“Shouldn’t have run from Big Poppa, baby,” he teases.

“I wasn’t running! I was going after #1!”

I glance at my screen, waiting for my ult to load. Just a few more hits...

Suddenly, I’m slammed into the arena wall. TF?! Another player starts fighting Mikey.

I check the rankings. When the hell did he get Rank 2 and I’m 5?! The audacity of #6 to skip me and go straight for him… Strategically smart, but HOW DARE THEY.

I let them fight it out and start hunting for #1. MeiKami, I’m coming for you, hoe.

Mikey’s phone rings. Annoyed, he answers on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon. Is this Mr. Ram?”

“Yes, this is he. May I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Mrs. Hanson. I’m just about finished with the paperwork and was wondering if I could fax it to you?”

“I’m actually out of the office today, so that would be perfect. Should I email you?”

“No, you can text the info to this number. I don’t mind.”

“Copy that. Sending it now.”

“One last thing… I checked yes to the online picture, but I have a personal request… if that’s okay.”

“Of course, Mrs. H. Anything you need.”

“Well… This house was a dream for me and my late husband. I know I told you before — it was our goal together. I was wondering if I could send you a picture of us, and you could photoshop him into the one we take?”

“I knew about your late husband. When you signed, seeing my name and achieving this goal probably made you emotional. I didn’t know how to console you. Of course, I’ll honor your request. Send me your preferred picture — I’ll work my magic and even make you a personal copy. Thank you for the opportunity to make it up to you.”

You can hear her getting emotional on the other end.

“Uh, hey. Carys here. My mom’s a blubbering mess, but we’re grateful. Thank you for everything. I’ll make sure she sends the paperwork before the day ends.”

“It’s okay, Carys. You guys have until Friday. Enjoy your day and your new home.”

Carys?!

“Fraternizing with the enemy, are we?” I joke.

“I know that was your dream home, baby, but a man’s gotta pay the bills,” he laughs.

“And take me shopping,” I add, smiling.

“Eh eh eh, this week has been far from hell. I might just be in love,” he nudges me.

“Well, if you’re in love, even more reason to wine and dine me. Don’t you agree?”

“Touche.”

Thursday

“Boy, if you don’t get out the damn kitchen — you’re in my way!”

“I didn’t hear you complaining about space when I had you bent over this very counter last night,” he smirks, rubbing the counter.

“That was different.”

“Was it now?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

He pouts. “Why can’t I be in here with you?”

“You’ll see when I’m done.”

“What if I wanna make sure you’re not burning the Alfredo?”

“Nigga, I ain’t making no fuck-ass Alfredo. AND if I was, it. would. be. phenomenal.”

“Ok, ok. I’ll stop bugging you. Call me when you’re done.”

He grabs my ass, kisses my cheek, and heads to the living room.

“Dinner is served!”

Look at me, all wifely — setting the table, making his plate. This is basically my man… Ew. Am I… enjoying this?

“It smells good as fuck in here,” he says, rubbing his hands together.

I stand like a chef on FirePit Kitchen presenting to Gordon Ramsay.

“Tonight, we’ll be having creamy Tuscan salmon with sautéed garlic spinach and quinoa,” I say confidently with a big smile.

“Keep this up and I’ll never let you leave,” he says, sitting down.

I sit next to him happily, but my smile quickly fades. He chuckles, almost choking on his food.

“Remembering that bet, huh?”

I nod, pouting as I chew.

“I can’t help that I’m naturally amazing at what I do,” I reply dramatically.

“That you are, my dear. That you are.”