Page 16 of A Kingpin’s Weakness

“Stormi.”

I said her name low, tapping her arm gently. I had already parked, killed the engine, and hopped out the car. Now I was standing on the passenger side, door open, looking down at her slumped in the seat.

She didn’t move much, just groaned. “Seth, I just wanna sleep.”

“You gotta actually get out the car and go inside the house to do that.”

She let out a little whine. “Piggyback ride.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Give me a piggyback ride,” she mumbled, eyes still closed. “I’m tired and my feet hurt.”

I let out a low chuckle. “All that damn twerking, and now you talking about your feet hurt?” Still, I knelt down in front of her. “Come on.”

She climbed onto my back like she’d been waiting on that moment all night; her phone and tiny-ass purse still in hand, legs wrapping around me like second nature. She laid her cheek against my shoulder, her weight comfortable against me.

I carried her to the front door and leaned into the sensor, letting my fingerprint unlock it.

“Oh, you fancy,” she mumbled, her laugh warm against my neck.

“Damn right.”

We stepped inside, the soft glow from the hallway lights lighting the path upstairs. I took the steps slow, careful not to jar her too much. When we reached the bedroom, I walked straight to the bed and let her slide down easy.

“Where’s S3?” she asked, stretching out on my bed like she belonged there.

“With his mama,” I said, glancing over at her.

“Damn.”

“You came here to see him?”

She smirked. “Maybe.”

I shook my head, then reached down and grabbed her feet. “Let me help you out.”

She looked at me, confused, until I started unbuckling them high-ass heels. The straps looked like they’d been cutting off her circulation for hours. I slid them off slow, one by one, then rested her feet in my lap and started rubbing.

Her toes were perfect white French tip, fresh. I had a thing for pretty feet, and Stormi’s was top-tier. Soft, smooth like she didn’t walk on anything rough a day in her life.

“Mmm,” she hummed, eyes fluttering a bit. “How you know I needed a foot rub?”

“I had to carry you in the house,” I said, lips twitching. “You damn near dead weight.”

“Thank you for that,” she whispered.

I pinched her chin gently, just because I could, then stood up and headed into the bathroom. Started running the water.

Mom had put me on game about Dr. Teal’s, said it helped relax your body, ease your stress. I found the lavender one and dumped some into the tub. The scent filled the room quick; clean and calming. Felt like the kind of thing Stormi needed after a night like this.

I stepped back out. “I gotta carry you to the tub too?”

She laughed, sitting up. “Aww, you ran a bath for me. Look at you being sweet.”

I shrugged. “I just don’t want the smell of the club in my sheets.”

“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes.

She got up and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I let her have her space. She was that type, soft but private. Needed time to breathe.

I headed down the hall to the guest bathroom and hopped in the shower. Quick, just to rinse off the night. The heat helped settle me, gave me a second to think.

When I came back to the bedroom, Stormi was still in the bathroom. She must’ve been soaking for real. I dropped onto the edge of the bed, grabbed my phone, and dialed Rich. I needed to check in make sure him and Southside weren’t getting into anything stupid without me around to play referee.

While it rang, I leaned back and stared at the closed bathroom door, thinking about how wild it was to have her here, in my space, making everything feel less cold.

“Yo,” Rich answered on the first ring.

“What up, Mr. Commitment?” He spoke.

I stretch out on the bed. “Nigga, you been in a relationship for what five years now?”

“I don’t leave my homies at the club for Lia, though.”

“Maybe you should.”

He paused. “I hear you.”

“Where y’all at now?” I asked, eyes flicking up just as Stormi stepped out of the bathroom. She was wearing my Polo boxers and the tee I left out for her. Her legs looked long as hell, skin soft and still damp from the bath. I had to glance away just to keep my mind right.

“Headed to Joe’s. Grabbing some breakfast,” Rich said.

Stormi climbed into bed next to me, but not close enough. I needed to feel her, her warmth, her breath, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. I reached over and pulled her in, tucking her against me until her body fit just right.

“Stay safe,” I told Rich before ending the call.

I put the phone down and turned my full attention to Stormi.

“How you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“So go to sleep.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

She paused, like she was choosing her next words carefully. “Because I have questions.”

I brushed a hand down her arm. “What’s on your mind?”

“Why am I here?”

My brow lifted. “You don’t want to be here?”

“I mean.” She sighed. “It wasn’t in my plans tonight to be in your bed.”

“Better than Jo’s house,” I said with a small smirk.

She gave me a look, but didn’t argue. “You have a point there.”

“Let’s just go to sleep.”

“Wait, you know I’m leaving once Noah’s home and better, right?”

“Okay,” I said, trying to sound chill, even though I felt that shit in my chest.

“Long-distance relationships don’t work.”

“Then move here.”

She scoffed. “Have you met my mama? No thank you.”

“Then we’ll make long distance work,” I said, voice dropping as sleep started to weigh on me.

There was a beat of silence.

“Are you falling asleep on me?”

“Stormi, a nigga tired. You were snoring all in the car, now suddenly you up like you ain’t just pass out on my shoulder.”

“I do not snore.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said with a lazy grin, then grabbed her face and kissed her. Deep. Slow. Tongue tracing hers like I was tasting every question she hadn’t asked yet.

She let out the softest moan and that was my cue to stop before this went somewhere we both might not be ready for.

I pulled back, kissed her forehead. “Goodnight.”

“You’re such an old man.”