The van rolled to a stop outside Nash's hotel.

Sunset Inn, three stories tall, neon sign flickering blue and pink. The outside was clean but worn, paint peeling slightly on the railings, and the parking lot held a mix of old cars and vans.

Lina, Sarra and Amara had a better place, so it was only normal to get the best possible for Zayela now.

Stepping out, he stretched, feeling the day's weight in his muscles. He pulled out his phone, scrolling to his resources:

Credits: 122,845.

Crystals: —

Rare Boxes: —

Mystery Box (Rare): —

A grin spread across his face. That kind of money could get them a sleek apartment, maybe with a balcony and a view, fit for a woman like Zayela.

On the drive, he'd stopped at a roadside stall, picking up a silver necklace with a tiny emerald pendant for her. It wasn't fancy, but it felt right, a small thank-you for her being there through it all, and to set everything for an definitive change.

He climbed the stairs, each step echoing in the quiet hall, his pulse picking up. Reaching room 214, he pressed the buzzer.

The wait stretched, his worries building. It wasn't any night, it was THE night, it had to be.

The door finally opened, and there stood Zayela.

Nash's breath caught.

She leaned against the doorframe, wearing a burgundy satin dress that clung to every curve. The neckline dipped low, showing the soft fullness of her breasts, and the front carried a slit that showed a deep cleavage, teasing more with every breath.

The fabric hugged her wide hips, ending mid-thigh with a high slit in front that flashed her smooth toned legs with each little shift.

The back was a lattice of thin straps, showing her bare skin, smooth and glowing under the hallway light.

Her body was voluptuous, breasts heavy, hips round, waist tight, all of it shaped to catch the eye.

Her dark hair fell in loose waves, framing her sharp cheekbones and full, red lips.

Her eyes glimmered with mischief, and even the shine on her collarbone made Nash think: she's stunning.

It took him a good 5 seconds of silence to contemplate her, and she enjoyed it.

"Well, well," she purred, "look who's back. Welcome home, champ. You were unstoppable out there."

She stepped aside, gesturing him in with a slow, inviting sweep of her arm.

As she walked deeper into the room her ass swayed in a sensual rhythm, each step deliberate, making the fabric of her dress pull and release in a way that drew his eyes.

Nash couldn't help but stare, this heavenly view inviting a dangerous side of him.

He stepped inside, and the door closed. There was something in the air, a bit of tension, but not a troubling one.

Her welcome felt almost too warm, too eager. She turned, her gaze roaming over him, lingering on his broad shoulders and the sweat still clinging to his neck.

"That match," she continued, stepping closer, her fingers brushing his arm lightly, sending a jolt through him, "you did exactly what you said you would. You owned every second out there. Everyone on social media is going crazy about you, your name's everywhere."

She was proud and excited at once, her hand lingering on his bicep.

"And now… you deserve a reward, don't you, big guy?"

For a moment neither moved. Their eyes locked, holding each other in a long silence, almost hypnotized, like the world outside had slipped away and only the two of them remained.

"Wine?" she offered, breaking the spell, her voice a touch shaky.

She moved to a small table where a bottle of red and two glasses waited, pouring with a steady hand despite the tremor in her fingers.

Nash nodded, following her to the sofa, a plush, worn piece that sank under their weight as they sat.

The room was weakly lit, not by neon but by a few small lamps Zayela had placed with care.

Their warm glow threw soft pools of light across the walls, leaving most corners in shadow.

The curtains were drawn, shutting out the world, making the space feel private and special, almost prepared just for this moment.

It was calm, intimate, so different from the wild chaos of the shower.

They clinked glasses, the wine's rich aroma filling the space.

"To us," Nash said, his voice warm.

She smiled, sipping, and they settled in, knees brushing.

"We've come a long way, huh?" he started. "From the smallest room in hell, dodging rent, and loan sharks, to this... hotels, wins, you keeping me on track."

Zayela laughed softly, her guard slipping.

"Yeah, I was always the one hauling you out of messes. Remember that time with those street punks? You were swinging like a madman, I had to yank you back before you broke your hand. You were weaker back then—if you had tried to pay me back in your way, you probably would've hurt yourself."

Her hand rested on his knee, a familiar touch now warmed by the wine and his presence.

"If we weren't cousins, I'd say you'd owe me a lot more than thanks."

Nash chuckled, leaning closer, his hand covering hers.

"If we weren't cousins, I'd have paid you back with more than words. But if it was the old me, I don't think you would've accepted my payback anyway."

She protested softly, shaking her head.

"Don't say that. You've changed a lot, sure, but what I like about you is that inside, you're still the same Nash."

For a moment they both went quiet, very aware of the weight behind the word payback, and of the fact they were cousins.

The joke carried a sting, a reminder of their bond, and a wish it wasn't so.

She tensed briefly, then relaxed, her fingers tightening on his leg.

"Yeah," she murmured, "that'd mess things up. But growing up together... you were my anchor, Nash. Still are."

He nodded, his thumb tracing her hand.

"And you were mine. Those awful meals you cooked when we were broke, yelling at me to hit the court instead of goofing off. You're my family, Zayela. Always."

The word "family" hung heavy, a line they danced around.

"If we weren't," he added, voice softening, "I'd have swept you off your feet back then."

Her breath caught, her eyes widening.

"Nash!" she said, half in shock, half in laughter.

She shook her head, smiling like she couldn't believe he'd said that, like it was too bold but exactly what she wanted to hear.

For a moment she looked away, cheeks heating, then back at him again.

"Don't say that. It's wrong. But... I think about it sometimes too." Her hand slid up his arm, tentative but bold. "Seeing you today, all strong and sure... it's hard not to look."

She paused, aware of her over-engagement, her body leaning toward him.

"I shouldn't feel this way."

The talk shifted to old times, jokes about their past.

"Remember hiding from the landlord?" Nash said, grinning. "You stuffed me in that closet with the underwears! I smelled like you for days after."

She laughed louder, head tilting back, her hand moving to his chest and staying there,.

"And when you came out you had that weird little erection. Don't think I didn't notice," she teased, eyes sparkling.

He pulled her closer, arm around her shoulders, his fingers brushing her side.

Everything was going smoothly, the system hadn't woke up yet. There was a chance he could pull that that night.

"If we weren't cousins, I'd have kissed you to shut you up right there," he teased, fingers brushing her neck.

Zayela's laugh faded into a soft gasp, her hand sliding to his thigh.

"If we weren't... I might've let you."

This was almost unexpected, everything was going too well.

The only problem was this constant reminder of their tie, a barrier they both wished away.

"We shared everything, food scraps, secrets, fights. You were my little brother in my mind. But now..." She trailed off, her fingers tracing his jaw. "You're not little anymore."

Nash's charm was a deadly weapon, his aura pulling her in.

"And you're not just the bossy cousin. You're gorgeous, Zayela." His hand slid to her waist, the satin warm and smooth. He hesitated, then smirked softly. "Even back then, my first nut was on you. I couldn't help it."

Her breath hitched, eyes wide, then she burst into shocked laughter, cheeks red.

"Nash! You can't just say that!" she gasped, half amused, half excited, swatting at his chest but not pulling away. She leaned closer instead, voice lowering.

"... Well... Maybe my latest was on you."

His eyes widened, pulse racing. The admission burned through the air and he pulled her in tighter. They joked more, about her nagging him to practice, him teasing her strict rules, but the touches grew bolder.

Her leg pressed against his, her hand on his chest sliding lower.

"If we weren't cousins," she whispered, "I'd hate how much I want you now."

Silence fell heavy after the words. Nash's eyes went wide, his chest tight, staring at her like he couldn't believe she'd admitted it. She looked away quickly, cheeks burning, embarrassed by her own honesty.

Inside, Nash begged silently: System, don't fail me now!"

A tension was building between them. Nash smirked, taunting her softly.

"Then show me how much."

She froze, then with a shaky laugh did exactly that, straddling his lap, the dress riding up to reveal more thigh.

They stared into each other's eyes, breaths mixing hot and close, like the air itself was pulling them tighter. Her hands framed his face, thumbs brushing his lips.

"Nash..." she breathed, conflicted but drawn in, her hips shifting slightly. He groaned softly, hands on her hips, pulling her closer.

"You won't get away this time," he murmured.

Their breaths mingled, bodies pressing, the line blurring. Soft moans escaped, as she ground against him, the fabric a thin barrier.

No interruptions came, no excuses left. The realization dawned slowly, years of closeness, taboo desire, now undeniable.

Their eyes locked, hazel meeting his, full of excitation and fear. Then, she surrendered and leaned in, and they kissed.

A deep, slow kiss sealing the new relationship between them.

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