Being the daughter of an NBA legend meant two things: basketball was in your blood, and your future in the league was practically written in the stars. The fame, the money, the pressure—it was all growing, but none of it really fazed you. You were made for this. And right now, you were proving it, out on the private court of your mansion, playing a one-on-one game with your dad, sweat clinging to your skin under the sun.

Cairo, on the other hand, had a much different afternoon planned. She was stretched out on a lounge chair by your pool, sunglasses shielding her eyes, one of your oversized jersey wearing on her bikini, one leg lazily dipped into the water. Being the daughter of two high-profile lawyers meant she was used to structure, debates, and negotiations. But here? Here, she could just exist, watching you move across the court with effortless skill.

The ball hit the backboard with a sharp sound before dropping cleanly through the hoop. You turned, slightly breathless, only to see Cairo lazily lifting her sunglasses to glance at you, a smirk playing on her lips.

“You know, I think I like this whole ‘rich basketball girlfriend’ thing. Very relaxing.”