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He grinded against her spot, loving the way her body creamed for him. Her hands now pinned above her head, his weight balanced. Maximus put his mouth against her ear and asked, “You gon’ be my home, E?”

Whimpering her response, “Yes.”

“Good, ‘cause I need you to be my home.”

Maximus ushered them both into euphoria and dropped by her side. Eden still moaning softly.

“I’ve got to get to the bathroom.”

“Why?” Maximus tiredly questioned, pulling her naked body into his.

“You’re going to leak out of me all night.”

“Let it. I’ll carry you to the shower in the morning.”

“Who are you?” Eden tiredly joked.

“The nigga covered in you. Go to sleep, baby.”

“You just want to peel me off of you,” Eden quipped, yawning.

“Maybe. Sleep.”

The couple slept half the day away before pulling themselves from the bed, showering, and washing the sheets. In the kitchen, Maximus leaned on the counter and watched as she stood in the fridge with her hands on her hips.

“So, the question is, which one of us is making breakfast? If you choose me, you’re getting toast and a boiled egg.”

“So much for that one cooking class you took,” Maximus joked, earning a birdie from Eden.

“Keon paid for that. Staysha can’t boil water.”

“Oh, I heard. Keon said his kitchen was a murder scene for an egg,” Maximus recalled, laughing. “Nah. We headed out today. We don’t have shit to do until Tuesday so we’re dropping the top and headed toward the beach.”

“Drop the top?” Eden asked, raising a brow.

Maximus scoffed. “Lifting you in the truck was cool, but a drop top ain’t gon’ kill me.”

“Look at frugal Franny spending money,” Eden teased. “The beach is nice, but are you going to feed me?”

Maximus grabbed the seat of his shorts, earning the middle finger from Eden. “Sausage?”

“Actual sausage, I’ve had yours already. And I need some clothes so...”

“They’ll be here in a minute. Clothes and food. We’ll ride down, hit the boardwalk do the beach shit, hit the club tonight?”

“Testing records?”

He bobbed his head. “And showing my face, apparently I got to be outside and shit.”

“That you do. They need to see your face, hear your voice, and think that they can touch you. Key word here is think,” Eden emphasized.

“Ahh that possessive shit poppin’ out. I like that.”

“It’s a problem, Max. Don’t feed into my bullshit.”

He laughed. “Too late. Talk it how you talk it, baby.”

They ate, and Eden straightened up the kitchen before joining Maximus in the room. He stood at the edge of the bed, the aroma of freshly-smoked blunt circling around him as he studied the articles of clothing on the bed.

“I’ve got to do something to your hair before tonight,” she hummed as she entered the room. “You should probably start sleeping with a bonnet on.”

“You got like twenty-five of them in a drawer, bring me one,” he replied, motioning her over.

“Max,” Eden laughed, padding over the floor to him. “You just dropped almost two hundred thousand on an AMG and won’t buy a bonnet?”

“Baby, what I look like walking into a store to buy a bonnet when you got a drawer full? Plus, I got you, I don’t have to buy none.”

Eden rolled her eyes and looked at the shirts on the bed. “Oh, merch! This one must be mine.”

Before Maximus could answer, she grabbed the white Trae Way tee and denim shorts and removed his t-shirt. Thankful for perky breasts, she dressed, tied a knot in the shirt, and combed her hair down.

Maximus, dressed and talked into wearing his hair in a high bun, sat behind the steering wheel, sparking up while Eden captured their moment on her JoyChat story.

A quick, simple video of her shotgun, Maximus’ hand on her thigh, and her tresses blowing in the wind.

The selfies of them she kept for herself, choosing to post them at a later date.

A playlist of Zaim, Cash, the Blues Brothers, Jay Lucci, and Jesipi the Don played, offering up the vibe for half the trip before Maximus changed it to Miles Jones. For her comfort. Eden picked up his tattooed-hand and kissed it in gratitude.

When they arrived at the boardwalk, they fell into their rhythm of comfort.

Eden, draped in his protection, Maximus was vigilant and open to her wants and needs.

They rode rides, played games, took pictures of each other, and with a few fans before they found a quiet spot on the beach to reset in each other’s arms. Maximus, without security, kept his eyes open and his head on a swivel.

“I realized something,” he rumbled, letting her go to look at the waves crashing against the shore.

“What’s that?”

“I busted in your world talkin’ a lot of shit, but I never asked you properly.”

Against the sun, Eden squinted her eyes in question. “Asked me what?”

“If you’d be my lady. I just told you that shit. Climbed in your pretty ass skin and told you that you were mine.”

“I agreed.”

“This is true, but it still feels like I need to cement that shit.” He turned to her, pulling a small box from his pocket. “You’ll be my lady, Eden?”

She giggled, not caring about the diamond hoop earrings he had on display, but at the fact that he was finding new ways to exercise his romantic muscle. “Yeah. Happily.”

“Heard you. Right now, and last night.”

They shared a tender, starry-eyed look, still not saying the words.

“Good, thank you.”

“Nah, thank you. Gimme kiss.”

She kissed him and accepted her gift, then tugged at the chain on his neck. “You’re looking like that nigga.”

He smirked. “You know what you’re looking like.”

She giggled and nodded. “That bitch.”

He smacked her ass and nodded his head. “Heard that. You ready to ride back? I wanna lay in it before we hit the club.”

“And get actual sleep?”

“Hell yeah, you’re wearing my ass out.”

Eden smacked her teeth and waved him off. “You get on my nerves, Max.”

He followed her, picked her up before they got back to the public eye, and kissed her face. “That’s my job.”