Page 44 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
“I’m not nervous,” I said, then immediately contradicted myself by smoothing down my dress again. I fluffed my curls and snapped a picture. The moment felt it needed to be captured. I looked good as hell in this peach. I felt alive. I felt how I did when I went into a burning building. All giddy.
Headlights swept across the restaurant windows, and I checked my watch. My heart damn near beat out of my chest, and I had to grip the edge of the table to keep from meeting him at the door like a teenager waiting for their prom date.Through the glass, I could see a familiar silhouette stepping out of what looked like a sleek black car, not his motorcycle this time, thankfully. Even in the parking lot lighting, I could tell he’d put that shit on, his gait told me all I needed to know. My mouth went dry.
“Damn.”
The door opened, and there he was. White tee under a light blue zip shirt, gold chain, light washed skinny jeans, white forces, and a smirk that said he was happy to see me. My heart did that thing it had started doing around him, fluttering and bracing for impact at the same time. My mind would go haywire the minute his scent hit my nose.
I met him halfway, ignoring the way Lorana stared at our eyes connecting. In his hands he held a beautiful bouquet of white roses for both Lorana and me.
“Hey Rommy Rome. You look good with your extra smooth ass,” I said, stepping into his arms. I no longer cared who was in the room. Around him, he made me want to come further out of my shell. Puppy love ain’t have shit on this. This was the kind of love songs were written about—deep, consuming, and worth every risk I’d been too scared to take before.
He chuckled and leaned down, brushing a kiss across my cheek. I inhaled as it messed with my whole equilibrium.
“Hey, beautiful, this dress,” he whispered with another kiss to my cheek. He hummed as he inhaled my scent. I stepped back and took the roses from him. “I like this one. What is it?”
“Bitter Peach, Tom Ford,” I mumbled getting nervous because he was obsessed with my scent. He was about to respond and probably say something out of line when Lorana walked up and led us back to the table.
“Malik, this is my stepmom and owner of Sheena’s, Lorana Andrews.” He extended his hand, and she pulled him in for ahug. I knew she would do that. She was a hugger and part of the reason I wasn’t for a long time.
“It’s nice to meet you. These are for you. I couldn’t show up empty handed.”
“Wow, thank you, they are gorgeous. Dale,” she yelled behind her to my father, never taking her eyes off of Malik.
My dad stood and extended his hand.
“Malik Holloway,” he said, offering that deep, smooth tone that made me swallow and push a piece of hair behind my ear. I’d decided to wear my hair in body wave curls tonight with a middle part.
“John-Dale Andrews,” my daddy returned. “Appreciate you joining us for dinner. I imagine you’re a busy man.”
“Glad to be here, sir,” he said it with ease. “And never too busy to give her a yes.”
His eyes landed on me, and I smiled. His words were always perfect. He could sell ice to a polar bear.
“Maj, my man. What we know?”
“We know we got this. What’s up, Lik?”
“Already.” They shared a dap, and he slid into the booth beside me. He smelled so good, good enough to eat. But it was a combination of things that had me biting my lip and praying I didn’t ruin my panties. This blue looked so damn good on him. Even though he looked his age, I liked that he had swag and wasn’t an old man trying to be cool.
“Aye, you doing that not breathing thing again. LT, you good?” he whispered in my ear. I snapped out of it and cleared my throat. He smiled as he looked down at me. I got lost anytime he did that.
My dad leaned back, watching him carefully. “So, Malik, tell me about yourself. What brought you to Colorado? I can tell by that twang you aren’t from here.”
“Work, originally,” Malik said, his voice smooth but grounded. “I’d been making moves in Tennessee, and they called and offered me the head of trauma and physical therapy department. I took the job thinking I’d stay a year, maybe two. Give myself time to get settled, see if the place stuck.”
“And?”
“It’s been five years. Guess it stuck.” He glanced at me then, and something in his smile made me shift in my seat. “Place grew on me. People, too.”
My daddy nodded slowly. “You married to your work, Malik?”
“I can be. It’s easy to do when you love what you do. My job is personal to me. So, I take it very seriously. But it doesn’t run my life.”
“So, you’d pick it over anything it if necessary?” my daddy asked, picking up his sweet tea. His voice was casual, but his eyes weren’t.
Malik didn’t even blink. “Sir, are you asking me about Sametra specifically?”
“Yeah, I am actually. Will you leave my baby and grandson high and dry when another opportunity presents itself? Or when something goes wrong?”
