Page 42 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
I let her lead me through her house, taking in more details I’d missed earlier, more pictures of her and Samaj at different ages lining the hallway, a bookshelf filled with psychology texts, self-help books, and black romance novels.
Her hips swayed in front of me, that sundress hugging her curves in ways that made my mouth dry. The corner of my lip went between my teeth. That ass was moving like liquid fire, and knowing she trusted me enough to invite me into her most private space - that shit had me ready to risk it all. Ashe was talking about how the pussy wasn’t worth it, and I knew he was a damn lie. Sametra’s ass was round, plump, but still toned. He was a fucking hater, and I’d be the judge of it being worth it or not.
“Yo, you fine as hell,” I said, my voice low and appreciative. I had to let her know. “And you carry? I think I’m in love.”
“Shh,” she whispered, looking back with a playful smile, “before you tell on me.”
I zipped my lips and followed her quietly up the steps.
Her bedroom was exactly what I expected clean, cute, and feminine, with soft lighting from a bedside lamp and the faintscent of her perfume in the air. The bed was unmade from this morning, sheets twisted like she’d had restless sleep, and there was something intimate about seeing this unguarded part of her life.
“I need to shower,” she said, suddenly looking shy. “Make yourself comfortable. There’s water in the mini-fridge if you want some.”
I nodded, watching her disappear into the adjoining bathroom. The sound of running water filled the space, and I tried not to think about what was happening just on the other side of that door. But as water splashed, it became harder.
I kicked off my shoes and sat on the edge of her bed, looking around. A small vision board taped to her mirror caught my attention, pictures of graduation caps, a photo of a therapy office,Dr. Sametra Andrewswritten in her neat handwriting. My woman was really about to make all this happen. That thought alone had me grinning.
When she emerged twenty minutes later, hair damp and skin glowing, wearing an oversized Stormz t-shirt that hit mid-thigh and shorts, I had to remind myself to breathe and be cool. I’d just be sleeping here tonight, nothing more.
“Your turn,” she said, handing me a spare toothbrush still in its package. “Towels are in the linen closet.”
I headed for the shower that she’d left on and stripped. The hot water felt good after the tension of the evening. I used her body wash, Chocolate Amber from Bath and Body Works. That shit was so her. It was exactly what I would say my queen smelled like. When I came out wearing just my boxer briefs, she was already under the covers, scrolling through her phone.
“Come here,” she said softly, lifting the blanket.
I slid beside her, and she immediately curled into my side, her head found its place on my chest. Her leg draped over mine,and I could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt.
“This okay?” she asked, her voice muffled against my chest.
“More than okay,” I said, wrapping my arm around her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “This is perfect.”
She tilted her face up to look at me, and in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, she looked younger, softer, more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her.
“My daddy taught me how to shoot,” she offered.
“As he should have. I like knowing you can handle yourself.”
She smiled and settled back against me, her breathing already starting to even out. Within minutes, she was asleep, completely trusting and relaxed in my arms.
I lay there for a long time, listening to her breathe, feeling the weight of her against me, thinking about how right this felt. How perfect it was to hold her like this, to be the one she turned to. I was making my way through the barriers she had up, and she better hold on because I wasn’t finished.
My mind drifted to her borrowing her father’s car, the anxiety I’d seen in her eyes about driving in the rain. That shit wasn’t happening anymore. Not on my watch.
I slipped out of her arms carefully and grabbed my phone. It was late as fuck, but I needed to cash in on a favor.
Big Bobby: I need a car straight off the lot delivered to me by Thursday. You owe me.
My phone rang immediately.
“What kind of car, bruh?”
“Something fucking nice. What you got, Alicia driving these days?”
“Nigga, what? I gotmy wifedriving a 2025 Lexus GX. What’s that gotta do with you?”
I laughed at him emphasizing his wife because I planned to be the same way about Sametra.
“I need that same one in black. Top of the line, all the bells and whistles. What’s the safety rating? I need my baby to be safe.”
