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“I have to get some things from my house,” Legacy said, coming into my office. I closed my laptop and gave her my full attention. She’d just come from practice and was sweaty and more than likely funky, but that didn’t stop my dick from bricking up at the sight of her.

“What you need?” I questioned as I watched her.

“Clothes,” she answered as she sat in front of my desk. “And to check on my house. I haven’t been there in almost two weeks. I want to show my face.”

“For what?” I leaned back in my chair and swayed. “It ain't like you live in the hood and need your neighbors to see your face so they know you’re still around.”

“Aceyn–”

“I’m spoiled, Point Guard,” I shrugged. “The thought of you going home doesn’t sit right with me. I want you with me all the time.”

“You’re going to get tired of me eventually,” she said, shaking her head. “We see each other at home and in the office, too.”

“Never.” I waved her off and shook my head. Wasn’t no way that shit would ever be true. I was addicted to being in Legacy’s presence. I was itching to get back to her when she wasn’t around. She kissed her teeth, and I smirked. “Alright, how about this? We will go to your house, grab you some clothes, and then we will go back home.”

“That was my plan the entire time,” she smiled. “You just wouldn’t let me say it.” She stood, rounded my desk, and kissed me. “You’re spoiled.”

“My mama tells me that all the time,” I laughed. She tried to walk away, but I grabbed the bottom of her shorts and pulled her back to me. “Easy or hard way, Point Guard.”

She tilted her head, and a wave of emotions flooded her face before she schooled her features and nodded. She kissed me again and then left my office.

* * *

“Everybody is good,” I said to Pyrite. He dapped me up and stepped to the side to let me in his house. The smell of freshly baked bread hit my nose, and my stomach growled. “Nigga, you in here baking?”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s my unwanted guest.” He pointed to the kitchen, and I laughed. Nigga was fronting hard as fuck with that unwanted line. This was the first time I’d seen him in over a month, and my nigga looked content as fuck. “Every fucking morning, she walks her big head ass in there, bakes something that smells like heaven, and I let her.”

“You sound pissed about it,” I laughed. Pyrite grilled me, and I shrugged because that nigga knew I wasn’t afraid and I was telling the truth. “What, she ain’t feeding you or something?”

“Aint no way I’d eat that shit ever again!” he turned to the kitchen and yelled. “I’d rather starve to death.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” a short woman said, approaching the door frame. I don’t know what I was expecting to see, but her short ass wasn’t it. Her skin was the color of melted chocolate, with a round face, plump lips, rounded nose, slanted eyes, and a head full of wild curls. She was curvy in all the right places, and the fire she had in her eyes told me she was a handful and was driving my nigga crazy. She pointed the red spatula at Pyrite and glared at him. “I’ve been trying to make that happen for the last month, but the Lord hasn’t answered my prayers yet.”

“That nigga don’t answer demons’ prayers,” Pyrite snarled at her. “Now, take your imp ass back in the kitchen and do what you are doing.”

“Make me, hoe,” she rebutted as she crossed her arms over her chest. The way she went back and forth with Pyrite had me cracking up. Shorty did not have any fear in her heart for my boy.

Pyrite stepped toward her, and I grabbed his arm to stop him. “My nigga, we got work to do. Fight with her ass later,” I said, laughing.

“I swear on everything, I can't stand her ass,” Pyrite said, continuing to stare at her. “You legit work my fucking nerves.”

“Good,” she smirked. “Because, I'm out of here the second I pay off my brother’s debt.”

“Your little ass bakery better turn a profit, or I’ma burn that bitch down and collect the insurance money.”

“Fuck you, Pyrite, “ she said, then stormed off.

“My nigga, that girl has been here a month, and y’all hate each other like that?” I laughed as we walked to his home office.

“Nah, we weren’t always like this,” he denied as he sat at his desk.

“What happened?”

“I let her little ass out of the basement,” he answered with a shrug. “Since then, I have been fighting for my damn life.”

“What?” I laughed. “Wait, nigga, you had her locked in the basement? Why the fuck did you do that?”

Pyrite wiped his hand over his mouth and let out a deep breath. He sat forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “Her little ass is a fucking demon. She tried to kill me.”

“Nigga, you did kidnap her.”

“Nah, I collected a fucking debt,” he denied shaking his head. “I gave her the option, come willing or come.”

“Nigga, that’s kidnapping,” I replied, and he shook his head. “Call Earth and see if he agrees.”

“That nigga fell in love with the woman who kidnapped him, he ain’t gonna agree to shit you saying,” Pyrite replied. “But, that’s not the point.”

“Then, what is?”

“She's here. Paying off a debt her daddy and brother couldn’t.” A smile appeared on his face, and I shook my head. “Until that shit is paid, she’s mine.”

I laughed and leaned back in my seat. This nigga didn’t even realize it yet, but I could tell he had no intention of letting her go, even if she was able to pay the debt.

“Man, let’s go over these reports so I can get home to my woman,” I said, shaking my head. I nodded to the files I’d handed him earlier and waited as he looked it over.

“Bet,” he nodded, then closed the file. “Tell me what the fuck this report doesn’t tell me.”

“You’re about to own an NBA and WNBA champion team,” I answered, and he smiled. Glass breaking echoed through the house, and Pyrite jumped from his seat.

“If her little ass is trying to escape again, I’m going to tie her ass to a chair,” he said as he made his way out of his office. “Itty Bitty, your ass better not be doing nothing stupid!”

“Go to hell, Pyrite!” she yelled back just before more glass breaking sounded.