Page 93 of Anything Necessary for Her
“I need you to come to more of my practices, if you can. I know you’re gonna be at my show, so if you can . . . attend maybe two a week. If not?—”
“I can.”
“But you’re busy.”
“I’m also the boss. The boss can delegate shit so that he can do what the fuck he want to do,” Low explained, and I nodded, moving toward him to stand between his legs to admire his features, his bone structure, his scent, and everything in between.
I felt like I was in love with him, but I didn’t want to speak on it too soon in fear of sounding like the stupid bitch who fell in love with her first real boyfriend—by choice, don’t get it twisted—who had also taken her virginity.
Deciding against speaking, we fused our lips together, kissing passionately for a nice while before I pulled away to go through the solo a few more times with Low’s eyes on me.
“Can I show you my room?” Waverley exclaimed as soon as we walked through the front door of Low’s home.
Because his mama was in rehab, he had no qualms about inviting me over. I still wanted to meet her, but it may have been best for me to do so while she was sober and recovering.
“Wave—”
“It’s fine. Just take my bag to your room.” I nodded and slipped my hand into Waverley’s so she could lead me through the nice house.
It was cozy and lived in but not dirty at all. It was obvious Low took good care of everything, having to basically parent three children, one of them being his own mother.
It made me thankful for my parents but also made me want to commend my mother the next time I saw her, having been a mother to three kids by the time she was twenty-one. When Iwas twenty-one—just last year—my days were filled with school, ballet, parties, and laying out either by the pool or at the beach with Kailey. It was still like that, only now Low had come in and sprinkled gold on my already nice life.
I played with Waverley for a good while, dancing with her and showing her some harder moves we didn’t show in our junior ballet class. She had a lot of potential, and I hoped she took it all the way.
Low offered to order food, but I chose to cook some hot honey chicken thighs, loaded mashed potatoes, and green beans. I listened to how he interacted with Waverley while I made my way around the kitchen, and it reminded me of our kid conversation. Low would be a great father, and that thought alone made me fall even more in love with him.
I just needed my brothers to get on board and my father to treat him the way he did my brothers’ wives and ASAP.
After a while, Wyatt had come home just as I was finishing up.
“Hi, Banks.” He gave me a stiff nod, eyes slightly wide, letting me know he was still scared of me.
I kind of felt bad for how I’d threatened him, but then again, I didn’t, because according to Low, he’d pretty much been on the straight and narrow since.
“Hi. Are you eating?”
“What is—yeah.” He altered his question into a statement quickly.
“It’s almost done, so you can go put your stuff down and wash your hands.”
Wyatt did as I’d told him to, and moments later, Low and Waverley came into the kitchen.
“That nigga listen to you better than he listen to me, and I thought I was scarier.” He sat down at the table, adjacent to his little sister.
“I could’ve told you that you weren’t. Sorry.” I began piling the plates with food, and by the time I had one for Wyatt, he’d returned.
Low could only chuckle at my response, eyeing me with a look I couldn’t quite read.
I’d made extra food for them to have tomorrow night when I wasn’t here, but Low and Wyatt peeled off all six of the extra chicken thighs, the whole pot of loaded mashed potatoes, and half of the green beans, so there wasn’t anything left.
While I took a shower, Low put Waverley to bed, and just thinking about it had me smiling the entire time I cleaned up. The night as a whole had me wondering what it would be like to live this way with Low except for with our own children. Before him, I saw motherhood as this faraway thing I would once conquer possibly in my thirties but now it felt like a closer goal.
Low returned to his bedroom to take his own shower by the time I was laid in his bed flipping through channels on his TV that clearly got no watch time. Nothing was logged in, and it took forever to work smoothly and run the Wi-Fi it was linked to.
“Thank you for the food.” He got in bed next to me, smelling extra good.
“You’re welcome. Wish you and your brother hadn’t eaten it all so you could have leftovers.”
