Page 57 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
“Details, heffa,” Winnie demanded.
So I told them. Not everything; some things were too sacred, too personal to share even with my girls. I couldn’t tell them I ate his dick whole on the first night. I definitely couldn’t tell them he ate my ass, and I ain’t never had no shit like that done to me before. But I told them enough. About how gentle he was, how he took care of me, how he made me feel like the most desired woman in the world. Because, as nasty as he was, he still made love to me.
I bit my lip, trying to hide my smile, but my girls caught it immediately.
“Oh, you got it bad,” Winnie observed. “Like, completely out of your damn mind.”
“This is beautiful to witness,” Halo added. I’d known Halo since she started at the fire station. We both decided that as the only two Black women, we would stick together. We’d been attached at the hip since then. She had definitely seen some low moments.
“Okay, maybe a little crazy about the nigga, but not full blown, give him a threesome crazy.”
“So glad you clarified that,” Winnie joked, making us laugh loud as hell.
“Just promise us something,” Winnie said, her tone growing more serious. “Don’t let fear make you push him away. It’s time to put yourself first for once.”
Winnie was different but just as important. She’d been my friend since grade school until her family moved away due to military orders. We’d stayed in contact through letters, then emails, then texts, and video calls. When she told me she was moving back to St. Ambrose after her husband’s retirement, I knew I was about to be blessed with having my day-one best friend back in my life. Having both of them here now, watching me finally find real love, felt like everything was coming full circle.
I nodded, emotion thick in my throat. “I promise.”
“Good,” Winnie said, raising her mimosa. “To our girl, finally getting the love she deserves.”
“To Dr. Big Daddy,” Halo added with a wicked grin, “for knowing how to treat a queen.”
“To Dr. Big Daddy.”
I couldn’t wait to see him again tonight. It was as if I hadn’t just seen him this morning. I think I was at the beginning stages of being dickmatized. I hadn’t thought about cooking for a man in ages, but tonight I was about to be a domestic goddess, feed my man pasta, rub his belly, and then sit on his face if the night permitted.
After the girls left, I threw myself into cooking with an energy I hadn’t felt in years. I put on my old-school playlist and danced around the kitchen while browning Italian sausage, ground beef, and the ricotta mixture, coming together perfectly. The smell of garlic and herbs filled the house as I stuffed the shells, adding extra cheese because Samaj was a cheese fanatic.
I was sliding the dish into the oven when I heard the front door open.
“Ma, I’m home!” Samaj called out, the sound of his wheelchair rolling across the hardwood following his voice.
“In the kitchen, baby!” I called back, wiping my hands on a dish towel.
He rolled in looking tired but happy. “Smells good in here. Stuffed shells?”
“Yes, and uhm, Dr. Holloway, Malik’s coming for dinner.” I tried to keep my voice casual, but the smile threatening to break across my face probably gave me away.
“Oh word?” Samaj grinned, parking his chair at the kitchen island. “So it’s like that now? Y’all a thing?”
“What you mean, ‘like that’?” I asked, pointing my finger at him playfully, though we both knew exactly what he meant.
“You invited him to dinner and you’re making the meal you love but hate to make because it’ssoootime consuming.” He shook his head, still smiling. “I’m happy for you, Ma. For real.”
“You sure? Because if this makes you uncomfortable?—”
“Ma, stop.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I told you yesterday I want you to be happy. And if Dr. Holloway makes you happy, then I’m team Malik all the way.”
“And what about the car? Should we give it back?”
“Ma, be foreal. I don’t think he would take it back anyway. I know enough about Dr. Holloway to know he doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to. I enjoy our chats. That’s my dawg.”
“Heard from Ashe?” I asked, wondering if he’d told his son I denied him the chance to see him at ten at night. Ashe was a master manipulator, and I hoped my son was back in his right mind and seeing straight through his bullshit.
“Nah, barely. He’s still in town, but I don’t know. Lately I’ve been feeling like he ain’t being honest with me. I know I got some siblings or something. What do you think?”
“Nope, I’m not touching that baby. You wanted to learn, so I’ll remind you…a hard head makes a soft ass.”
