Page 25 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
Malik: Insubordinate. Doesn’t answer questions. And doing too much would’ve been me staying for dinner. Let me make it before I turn it up a notch.
Me: We are getting ready for dinner. Walkin Tacos. Happy? Wyd?
Malik: Eat. I’ll hit you later.
I slid the phone back onto the counter, hiding the smile on my face. This was insane. I was too old to have a crush. But Malik didn’t give off reckless or fast, but something about him screamed he’d put me through a mattress and coach me through it. Real soft talk, locked eye contact, can’t-feel-your-legs-after type energy.
The way he looked at me while he massaged my neck sent flames through my body. The massage felt so damn good. Malik knew exactly what he was doing. That nigga wasn’t slick. When I kissed him, His mouth was soft but confident, like he knew exactly what I needed and wasn’t in a rush to give it all at once. He kissed me like he’d been thinking about it all day, thorough and focused in a way that made my toes curl.
And God, he smelled good. Like fresh laundry, spice, and cocoa butter. The nigga smelled like black excellence.
He didn’t just kiss me, he dominated every sense I had. The hand on my hip said so much. Malik said what he wanted, called me his lady, and didn’t leave room for second-guessing. It felt good to be wanted like that. No games, no confusion. Just a man making his intentions clear with his mouth, his hands, and that damn voice.
And the worst part about all of this I needed that in my life. Bad. I wanted it even more.
But life was complicated as hell right now.
The episode at the hospital wasn’t a one-off. Being in a car scared the fuck out of me. Seeing all that rain come down, fucked with me and I didn’t like it. My hands still shook when I thought about the rain. Every time I gripped a steering wheel, I braced for impact. That crash rewired something in me, and I hated it.
So yeah, Malik had me feeling things, but I was still fighting to feel safe. That’s what made everything so damn confusing. But I needed to pull it together because I intended to talk to Samaj tonight about his father.
We sat at the table with our walking tacos while SportsCenter played on the TV.
“How you feeling about being home?” I asked, breaking open my bag of Doritos.
“Good. Real good.” He spooned meat and cheese into his bag. “PT with Dr. Holloway is helping a lot. He’s different from other doctors.”
“Different how?”
“He doesn’t talk to me like I’m a kid. Tells me straight up what’s gonna hurt, what’s gonna help, what I need to do to get better. He even likes some of the same music I like.” Samaj took a bite, thinking. “And he cares about you, too. I can tell.”
My cheeks warmed. “Samaj...”
“I’m just saying, Ma. I see how y’all look at each other. And honestly, I’m cool with it. You deserve somebody who treats you right. College or not, I’ll be leaving soon. I want you to have someone to do life with.”
“Speaking of people who treat me right...” I set down my food. “We need to talk about your dad.”
His expression shifted, became more guarded. “What about him?”
“About what you want to do. About him wanting to be in your life now.”
Samaj set down his bag of chips and looked at me. “You mad about me inviting him?”
“I was. I’m not gonna lie to you about that.” I took a breath. “But I also owe you an apology. I went too hard at the hospital. That was between me and him. I shouldn’t have put you in the middle of it.”
“Ma, you were protecting me. You always do. I should’ve told you, but so much has been going on.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before, earlier, that you were talking to him? We could’ve navigated it together.”
“Because I knew you would blow up. And I didn’t know if he would show up, so I never mentioned the hospital. He said he lived out of state, but he never said where.”
“Yeah, but protection and control are two different things. And what I did the other day was more about control.” I leaned back in my chair. “You’re seventeen, Maj. You’re old enough to make some decisions for yourself, even if I don’t agree with them.”
He nodded slowly, but I could see something building behind his eyes.
“But here’s what I need you to understand,” I continued. “If you decide you want a relationship with him, it has to be real. Not some fantasy about who you want him to be.”
“I know that.”
