Page 8 of What the Leos Burned (BLP Signs of Love #6)

The glow from Princess’s desktop lit up her bedroom and cast a soft shimmer across the walls. The night air drifted in through the cracked window, and the buzz of crickets hardly competed with the sound of two teenagers that held their breath.

Zay leaned forward with his hands on his knees and his eyes locked on the screen.

“Two hundred and one,” she whispered and refreshed the page for the third time.

Zay leaned in closer. “You serious?”

“Dead serious. It was like . . . one-fifty not even three minutes ago.”

They both stared at the screen and watched the view count climb.

Although the video wasn’t The Ether Division’s first—not even their best—it was the one .

The one they’d shot with a borrowed camcorder in a half-lit parking lot behind a strip mall on Detroit’s west side.

No choreography, no budget—just verses, truth, and cold breath in the air.

Grainy footage, real emotion, but honest bars.

The people watched, and they loved it.

“This one hittin’ different,” Zay said, unable to look away. “It got energy.”

She grinned. “I told you to trust that spot by Dexter.”

Zay laughed and leaned back. “You did. That echo off the wall was crazy. Made it feel like a cypher.”

She blushed then hit refresh again.

“Four-twenty,” she whispered.

They both screamed into her pillow to muffle the excitement.

Zay snatched it away from her. “Nah, you don’t get to hide the joy! This is our win!”

She grabbed the mouse to the computer again, then froze.

“Oh my God.”

He leaned forward. “What?”

She pointed at the screen and her jaw dropped. “Royce 5’9 just commented.”

“Nah, . . . not Royce 5’9?” he asked, blinking rapidly.

“Yes!” She bounced in her chair. “That’s his real account! He said, ‘Y’all got that raw Detroit sound. Keep pushin’.’”

Zay stood up and put his hand on his head. “Ain’t no way. Ain’t no way!”

“You said he’d never see it!”

“I said I ain’t think he’d see it tonight!”

They both jumped up, laughing and shouting, and spun around in the room like he just got handed a deal.

“Princess!” Suddenly, the voice boomed through their joy like a record scratch.

She and Zay both froze as they listened to her father’s footsteps thunder down the hallway.

“Closet,” she whispered. “Now!”

Zay quickly turned, leaped twice toward her closet, and ducked. Princess trailed behind him and pulled the door shut just as her bedroom door flew open.

Her father stood at the frame with one hand on the handle. He had that same look he always wore after a long shift: pressed shirt loosened, tie in his pocket, and his eyes sharp as a tack.

“What in the world is all that noise up in here?”

Princess stood in shock at her closet for just a moment before she quickly improvised and backed toward her bed. “Sorry, Daddy. I was . . . just watching a video.”

He remained at the door but frowned. “What kind of video?”

She hesitated again. “It was a rap video. A friend of mines.”

He stared at her for a moment, his expression blank. Then, he dropped his head and chuckled. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

Princess’s heart beat fast then. She just knew she was caught and prepared herself for the worse. He still smiled as he slowly walked around her room. He circled around her bed, then stopped at the desktop that was looping T.E.D’s video.

She held her breath. Her father squinted at the screen. “Well, which one is your friend?”

“Uh, . . . that one.” She pointed at Zay. “With the black hoodie.”

He looked closer, then formed a slow, amused curve across his lips. “Mm-hmm.”

He laughed under his breath and shook his head and folded his arms. “You love the bad boys, huh?”

She laughed nervously. “He’s not really a bad boy. He just . . . He’s been through some things. He’s actually a good one at heart.”

Her father turned and looked at her with adoration. Then he walked forward . . . and stood directly in front of the closet door.

Her heart dropped.

He stayed there for a moment, then leaned his shoulder against the wall and settled in for something serious.

“Look,” he began, voice low and warm, “I know you’ll be eighteen in August. I see you growing up. I know you think you’re grown.”

Princess smiled faintly. “I don’t think I’m grown.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t lie.”

They both laughed quietly, and the tension eased just a bit.

“But I also know,” he continued, pausing as he chose his next words carefully. “I know all about boys. I’ve been one before. With your mother. I don’t even want to think about how they look at you. Or about how you look back.”

He paused again and glanced over the room—the soft lighting, the Bath & Body Works bottles neatly stacked across her dresser, the pink hoodie draped over the chair.

“I named you,” he said suddenly.

She blinked. “What?”

“I named you. Princess Love Melendez. Everyone said it was too much. Too long. Too dramatic. But I didn’t care.”

He leaned off the wall, walked to her bed, and sat right beside her. “You came out, and the second I saw you, I knew. You were my firstborn. My little girl. My princess . And you deserved to be loved like royalty. I wanted your name to say it before anyone else ever could.”

Princess swallowed hard, and her eyes burned a little with tears.

“You’ve always been precious to me. Still are. Always will be. I know I can’t protect you from everything. But if I can give you one piece of advice, it’s this.”

He shifted his body to face her fully.

“You’ll know when a boy is the right one.

It won’t be through flowers or the little lies they tell to get close.

It’ll be how you feel when they leave the room.

How quiet everything gets when they’re gone.

A good man won’t just pull you in—he’ll make you feel safe.

He’ll make you want to be better. Not perfect, but better. ”

She stared at him. She didn’t speak, but she took it all in.

Because every word he spoke in that moment felt like it had described how she felt about Zay.

The way her body calmed when he was around.

The way he showed up even when he had nothing.

The way she saw the world differently when he was in it.

How she wanted more just because he inspired her to believe she could have it.

She realized then, in that moment, that she loved him.

Her father opened his arms and pulled her into a hug. She sank into it.

“My job,” he whispered against her hair, “is to protect you, but I know one day I’ll have to let go. I just pray the person you hand your heart to is worth everything I tried to build inside of it.”

“I know, Daddy,” she whispered. “I know that.”

He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her in a tight hug. Then, he stood, walked around her bed, and paused at her bedroom door. She remained seated but turned her body to look at him fully.

“Get some sleep,” he said gently, then added with a smile, “and tell your little friend, that boy, that if he breaks my little Princess’ heart, I’ll break his fucking legs.”

“Jesus, Daddy!” she exclaimed.

“I’m serious,” he continued. “Don’t let the suits and the nice home we live in fool you, baby girl. I’m still from the east side. Warren and McDougall. Better ask these niggas about me.”

She stood then. “Daddy! Oh my God, I get it. I said I get it!”

Her father turned the knob, walked out the doorframe, then stood and faced her.

“I hope you know how much I love you, baby girl.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

Her father then smiled, put his head down, and closed the door.

Princess stood in the middle of her room with her heart pounding.

She hadn’t realized she shed a tear until she felt the wet stream that flowed down her cheek.

She wiped the tear from her cheek, walked to her bedroom door, then pressed her ear to the door.

She heard her father’s faint footsteps near the end of the hall, turn the corner, and waited for the sound of her parents’ bedroom door to shut.

The second she heard it, she clicked the lock button on her door, walked across her room, around her bed to the closet, and yanked the door open.

Zay tumbled out with his hands up. “Yo-yo. I thought he was gonna open it at first. I was about to pass out in that damn closet.”

She pulled him forward and clutched his arm. “Shut up, you’re fine.”

They laughed quietly for a moment, then stared at each other.

Zay broke the awkward glance first and grabbed his flip phone out of his coat pocket. “I gotta call the guys.”

He stepped into the corner, pacing with excitement as he dialed Marcellus first and whispered that Royce 5’9 had just commented on their video. Princess sat on the bed and watched him light up.

She admired how his joy made her feel full. After that talk with her dad, everything clicked. It wasn’t some little crush. She knew Zay was the one.

He turned around and looked at her, still grinning as he spoke to his boy, and she knew he felt something too.

Once he finished, he sat beside her. He flipped his phone closed. The room suddenly seemed dim again.

“You good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I’m just proud of you.”

Zay stared at her for a moment. “I’m proud of us.”

She leaned in first and brushed her lips over his.

It wasn’t rushed like she’d imagined it would be. It wasn’t loud. It was gentle and knowing. It was the kind of kiss that came after months of trust, quiet glances, and shared dreams.

That night, Princess gave herself to him.

She believed, with all her heart, that Zay would handle her love with care.

And, he had, but only for the next few weeks.