Page 7 of Free to Fall

She smiled, knowing exactly what I meant. She always did. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t even be here. Wouldn’t be in these rooms. Wouldn’t have a name. Creed had told her about my ambition with boxing and she relayed the information to her pops then her he opened the doors for me. He put me on in Vegas for a while before I moved to LA and then he let me live in their house when I had nowhere else to go. I owed her more than she’d ever know.

Giovanni leaned his head against my shoulder, eyes already drooping. “Damn, lil’ man,” I said softly. “You knockin’ out on me already?”

He mumbled something incoherent before snoring gently, his big ten-year-old frame leaning into me like I was his whole peace.

“Let me get him upstairs.” Creed stood from his seat and lifted Gio’s big ass without much effort. “I’ll be right back after I get them settled.”

“Take your time Bro.” I replied. With Gio in his arms, he and Serenity walked their kids back to the stairs. I looked at them,him, Serenity, Gio and Cree—and felt it. That ache. The quiet reminder of what I wanted. Not just the belt. Not just the legacy. But a family. A place to land. And God help me, the only one I wanted to build it with was Egypt Armstrong.

3

EGYPT

“You off today,” Averi said, not even looking up from her laptop.

I rolled my eyes and leaned deeper into the couch; legs tucked under me as I scrolled my phone for the third time in the last two minutes. “I’m fine.”

“Mm.” She didn’t believe me. Of course she didn’t.

She knew me too well. Knew the difference between my focused and locked in mood and whatever the hell this was. I’d opened the same voice memo three times and hadn’t played it once. The beat was fire, the lyrics were there... but my head was a million miles away. To be specific? My head was about twenty-five minutes away in Beverly Grove with Nasseem.

He had texted me earlier:

Nasseem: Same time. New spot. Come to me tonight.

Attached was the pin to his condo, his home. That wasn’t part of the agreement. We didn’t do homes. We didn’t do overnight bags. We didn’t do anything that felt like more than skin-on-skinand mutual release. And yet… here I was, wondering if I should break my own rules.

Nasseem: I’ll cook. Bring a bag. You not leavin’ right after this time.

I stared at the text like it was written in another language. He had never invited me to his place before. Not once in the months we’d been sneakin’ around. It was always Pleasure. Always Room 34. Private, detached and safe. But his home? That was personal. That was real. That was him trying to blur the lines. I wouldn’t bring a bag. Hell no. I’d pull up, maybe, but I wasn’t spending the night… Couldn’t.

“Egypt.” I blinked and looked up. Averi had turned her body toward me, legs crossed, arms resting on her lap. She looked concerned. “You good, for real?”

I nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“Nah. Tired don’t look like that. You movin’ like your mind’s in ten different places. You barely touched the track I sent. Ain’t laid a hook, ain’t hummed a melody. What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing,” I said, a little too fast.

Averi’s brow lifted. “Don’t start lyin’ to me. If something is wrong, talk to me. If it’s a man, blink twice.”

I scoffed, grabbing a bottle of water from the table. “It ain’t a man.”

She tilted her head. “So, what is it?”

I hesitated. My phone buzzed again. Nasseem. I didn’t look at it. “It’s just… stress,” I mumbled.

Averi leaned forward. “Egypt. Don’t bullshit me.”

I snapped. “Damn, Ave! I said I’m good. Mind your fuckin’ business.”

The silence in the room got heavy. Like air sucked all the way out. Averi sat back slowly, blinking at me like I’d slapped her.“Oh, wow.” I instantly regretted it. She stood up, unplugged her hard drive, and started packing up her laptop.

“Where you goin’?” I asked, sitting up.

She didn’t look at me.

“Home. I got a husband I could be spending time with instead of sittin’ in a studio with somebody who wanna act like I’m the enemy.”

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