Page 47 of My Only

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“What the hell is that monstrosity by the coffee bar?”

He snorted a laugh, still not looking away from the screen. “It’s art.”

“It’s ugly.”

I caught his side grin just before he turned his head.

“Jaleel Gordon has one just like it in his house.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh my God.”

“I read about it in Architectural Digest.”

“Mm-hmm…?”

“It’s a D-Slam original.”

I squinted. “A D-Slam original?” I rubbed my lips together before continuing. “You mean that expensive, controversial stuff that retired basketball player makes and calls art?”

“He’s an artist now, A.”

“Oh, he’s definitely something.” I pointed behind me. “And that thing in there is something else. It doesn’t go with the aesthetic at all. I thought we talked about this.”

“It looked too good not to get it, though,” he said, finally abandoning the keyboard to swivel his office chair and face me.

“How much was it?”

He gestured casually with his hands. “Not that much, you know… Just a little 15K.”

My eyes ballooned. “Fifteen thousand?—”

“It was a limited-edition piece,” he said, leaning toward me. “Only a few were made.”

“None of that should have been made, if we’re keeping it real.” I stepped closer. “Fifteen thousand dollars is insane, Hassani.”

“You can’t really price art.”

“I’m sorry… is the art in the house with us?” I folded my arms. “Because I’m not sure we’re looking at the same thing.”

Hassani shrugged. “I think it’s beautiful.”

“Shit.” I released a scoffing laugh. “You call me beautiful all the time. Should I be worried?”

He barked a laugh, and I tightened my lips to keep from laughing with him.

Hassani grabbed my hand, pulled me onto his lap, and pressed his lips to my shoulder.

“Why didn’t you talk to me before getting it? Like we discussed?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

I sighed. “Well… goal unlocked.”

His lips trailed against my skin, his hand caressing my thigh, sending that familiar stir through me.

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