Page 37 of Free to Fall

She shook her head. “Nope, just surprised. Didn’t think that was how we’d pop out.”

“Well, you shoulda known better than to post them damn thighs in my lap.” We both laughed.

She leaned over and kissed my chest. “Guess it’s official.”

“Been official,” I said, pulling her in closer. “They just finally caught up.”

11

EGYPT

The private jet smelled like money, fresh leather, and expensive cologne—and I was walking onto it hand in hand with Nasseem. The moment we stepped onto the Bradshaw family jet, the applause erupted.

I blinked in confusion until I realized it was our friends. The entire gang was already seated—Serenity and Creed, Arielle and Brodie, Royal and Averi, even Zay was lounging in the back like he belonged there.

“Aww, look at the lovebirds,” Serenity teased, clapping slowly. “It’s about damn time.”

Arielle smirked and leaned back in her seat. “We been knew ya’ll was fuckin’ at the very least, but at least it finally came out. Congrats on finally makin’ it official.”

I laughed, heat rising to my cheeks, but Nasseem just pulled me closer and smirked like he was proud to show me off. We slid into the leather seats together, his hand immediately settling on my thigh like it belonged there. Which let’s be honest, it did.

The flight was filled with champagne, jokes, and warm energy. The vibe was effortless. Free. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn’t hiding behind a mask. I laid my head onNasseem’s shoulder somewhere above Georgia, feeling like the sky wasn’t the limit—it was just the beginning.

An hour after landing, we checked into the W Hotel downtown, minus Royal and Averi who headed to Royal’s condo nearby. Our suite had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the sparkling Atlanta skyline and a separate living space from the bedroom. As I unpacked, Nasseem kept sneaking up behind me, his hands wandering, lips finding the curve of my neck.

“Nasseem, stop,” I whispered through a laugh. “I’m tryna hang these damn clothes.”

“I ain’t stoppin’ ‘til you hang that ass on this bed,” he murmured, flipping me around and kissing me breathless. Needless to say, we barely made it to dinner on time.

Dinner atLegend’swas already legendary before we walked in. The restaurant, owned by Legend and Haelo Giovanni—brother in law and sister of our label mate Heaven—was all gold accents, deep mahogany walls, and soft live jazz drifting through the space. Royal had called in a favor, so we had a private room in the back. We smiled for the cameras as we entered, giving the place its moment. Free press never hurt.

Legend came out personally, dapping up Royal and hugging all of us like family. “I appreciate ya’ll comin through to support my spot. Camera got ya’ll rollin’ in here and the place has been off the hook with new reservations already, that’s love,” he said. “So, the food’s on me. Enjoy.”

He wasn’t playing. A few minutes later, the servers brought out one of everything—the signature lemon pepper lamb chops, crab mac, oxtail ravioli, spicy honey shrimp, short rib sliders, cornbread with peach butter. We feasted like we hadn’t eaten since the plane.

“You know you can’t be trustin’ everybody with peach butter,” I whispered to Averi. “But this one hittin’.” Averi laughed and clinked her glass to mine.

“So, how’s it feel being out?” Brodie asked, looking between me and Nasseem.

I turned to look at him, unable to hide my smile. “It feels amazing.” I leaned over and kissed him gently, the whole room cooing and clapping.

“Oh, we gettin’ soft now Sis?” Royal teased.

Averi shook her head. “I’m just tryna figure out who I’m gonna laugh at now that y’all not pretend-hatin’ each other.”

“That ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Nasseem said. “I still got a smart mouth ass girl who stay thinkin’ she right.”

“‘Cause I am right,” I shot back, flipping him off.

He just grinned. “That’s what she say right before I fold her ass up like a beach chair.”

The room erupted in laughter.

The next day,we were sprawled out in plush velvet chairs atKlawsby Kelli, the luxury nail and beauty bar Averi had insisted we try. The place was giving pure Black girl excellence, rich tones, afrobeat instrumentals vibin’ low from hidden speakers, walls lined with neon signs that read“Acrylic Dreams”and“Polish & Power.”Every tech in here had laid edges and flawless makeup, and they were all treating us like the royalty we damn near were.

Serenity was leaned back getting her toes done in a milky white, her eyes half-lidded like she could fall asleep any second. Arielle was across from me picking out the perfect shape for her almond-set nails, something simple but still bossed up. I’d opted for a long coffin shape in a bold red, same as last time, cause that color on me was unmatched.

Averi, sitting next to me, had her shades perched low on her face and her feet soaking while she scrolled through her phone.

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