Page 85 of Quasim II: King Inferno

I folded my arms. “If staying up means snoring, snatching my bonnet, and farting… then I guess you did that.”

Elijah smirked. “I didn’t wet the bed.”

“Word? Proud of you, Eli.”

Elijah got down from the couch and ran to use the bathroom while I kissed Sim’s lips. “I was tossing and turning all night, thinking about you.”

He puckered his lips, and I kissed them. “Elijah wasn’t the only one that was snoring, Anjo. you sounded like the engine of a damn train.”

“Don’t even do me like that. What time did you come in?”

I watched as he lifted my night shirt and looked at my stomach. “Can’t wait to see your stomach grow… stretch marks and all on it.”

“Wait a minute now, I can wait for the stretch marks… don’t be wishing that on me.” I laughed, knowing that I would take every stretch mark in the world if that meant my baby was safe and here in the world.

“Doctor appointment when we back home… no more stalling on it, Blair.”

Quasim got up from the couch and went to get into the bed. I followed him into the bed and pulled my legs under me. “Simmy, I’m scared.”

He yawned and looked at me. “Tell me.”

“Everything that Bento told us, then the baby… I’m scared that my cancer can return. I don’t know what’s going to happen with my studio, not to mention Augusta Mae. I don’t want to stress you out because you have so much going on, so I try to keep it to myself. You lost your home, and I’m here complaining.”

Suddenly he wasn’t interested in sleeping anymore. “Don’t say that shit, Blair.”

Whenever he said my name, I knew he was serious. Although, he was always serious with me. “What?”

“That you’re complaining. Your fears are fucking valid, and I wish you would tell me about them. Stop letting it fester, and then you’re stressed out while carrying my baby.”

Tears fell from my eyes. “I worry a lot about Elijah and wondering if someone will take him from us.” It had been added to my long list of fears, and it was something I couldn’t think about long because then my heart would break.

He was comfortable with us, and I had a feeling that Lucia wasn’t going to let this go. Whatever Elijah knew was big, and they wanted him. “What kind of cake are we having?”

“Don’t try and distract me, Quasim.”

“I want a banana cake… with that good frosting, too, none of that whipped shit.” He kissed my head, as he continued to pull my thoughts away from all the stress going on in our lives.

“I do like banana cake, and I hate whipped frosting.”

He kissed me again. “Which is why I’m marrying you. I knew the minute I laid eyes on you that you hated whipped frosting.”

I pulled away from him and slapped him with a pillow. “I don’t like you, Quasim.”

He laughed. “You don’t even believe that shit you just said out your mouth.”

I couldn’t help but to laugh because he was right. This man meant everything to me, and I loved his dirty draws. “We really gonna get married?”

“Always been the plan since I bought that ring in Italy.”

I gasped and paused as I looked down at my ring. “You bought this in Italy?”

I watched as he nodded his head and got his hands comfortable behind his head. What I learned was one of his favorite sleeping positions. “Yeah.”

Grabbing the pillow, I smacked him in the face a few times before he opened his eyes. “The fuck is that for?”

“You had me thinking I was crazy, and you bought me an engagement ring while we were there?”

“Never had you thinking you were crazy.” He defended.

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