After fleeing Colorado, Zayne finds herself on a familiar faces doorstep with nothing but secrets, a pretty smile and nowhere else to go.
Will Playboi accept Zayne back into his life after her, Ari and Rosie ghosted him over 4 years ago? Or will hi...
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Why the fuck wouldn't this nigga tell us his daddy is a fuckin' cop?! A state trooper at that! I'm pissed as fuck.
Only thing I can think as I stand next to Sahara's lil ass is hell nah!
"Your mom said you stopped by there first." His dad puts his big burly arms around Playboi and squeezes him into a tight hug before he shifts his head and opens an arm out for us next.
So his family is touchy, gotta get used to that.
"Zayne and Sahara, right?"
"Dang, can't I introduce them before you and mama get to plottin' behind my back?" Playboi jokes with a tender smile.
"I'm Zayne." I blush when he takes his hat off and whistles.
"Zayne and Sahara. Bet you got your hands full with them, dontcha? Wow, good job, son. Welcome to the family. Cookie will be home in a lil bit, everyone else is still out until later. Make yourselves at home, there's ya mama's tea and lemonade in the fridge. I'm gonna catch the news."
Playboi raids the pantry absentmindedly, like it was somethin' he's used to doin'. After openin' a bag of Lay's potato chips, Sahara reaches in the bag and steals a couple.
"Show us yo room." She says, before tossin' a chip in her mouth.
"One of y'all always stealin' my food." He laughs and then leads the way up a flight of stairs just outside the large kitchen.
I like the homey vibe in the air as we walk up the stairs, passin' by more family pictures than I've ever seen in one house.
We pass three bedrooms before reachin' his at the end of the hall. When he opens the door and reveals what high school Playboi was like, a smile spread across my face.
There's Kobe Bryant and Tom Brady posters scattered around the walls, kept company by different athletes in all kinds of sports. Some I recognize and some I don't. There's more than ten trophy's with his team pictures spread out throughout the room, and they aren't all in football jerseys.
Playboi was an active boy.
"You grew up in this room?" Sahara asks as she walks around the big ass room, bigger than any room I've ever owned, even as an adult.
"Yeah." He nods and then sits down on the black couch.
"I wish my room was this big when I was growin' up." I comment as my eyes land on the King sized bed near the window. "Damn, yo. You really came from money."
