Page 13 of Save Room for Us

For the next half an hour or so, I beasted on Milan, getting all my frustrations out in that pussy, and she took it, wetting my dick up and without complaint.

Once finished, I trashed the condom and lay down with her just for a quick second, not wanting to hear shit about me using her for pussy. But I wasn’t staying the night. I didn’t give a fuck about how much she bitched.

My pops, and even my brothers, liked to call me paranoid, but Asif St. Thomas would never spend the night with a bitch Iwas only fucking. Niggas made it too easy to get caught slipping, and I would never be caught up. I moved a certain way and thought before I made any additional moves, to be sure of the shit.

Even something as simple as coming to kick it, I told Milan I’d be here in an hour, knowing that without all the stuffy ass traffic, it’d be more like twenty minutes. Shit like that may have seemed simple, but a minute could make all the fucking difference.

“Hey, so my cousin is having a birthday party, and I wanna go.”

“So go.” I stared up at the ceiling, keeping an eye on my piece that laid on the dresser as Milan lay on me.

“I am, silly. I was saying I want you to come with me.”

“Nah. You know yo’ people, especially yo’ fucking cousin, ain’t my type of people.”

Milan wanted me to go so she could show off, but even if that weren’t the reason, I didn’t kick it with the type of muthafuckas she surrounded herself with. Not only were they rambunctious and over the top like her, but they were also sneaky. Every single homegirl of hers, including her cousins, had tried to fuck me on the low. And while I wasn’t Milan’s nigga, they knew me through her, and that made it fucked up. I didn’t associate with muthafuckas who moved like that.

“Which cousin? I didn’t even say.”

“Bianca or whatever the fuck her name is.”

“Bianni,” she replied somberly, letting me know I’d guessed right. “Please, baby.” She sat up some, looking down into my face like she wanted to kiss a nigga, but she knew better.

“Told you I don’t like that begging shit, unless it’s for some dick, and even then, I ain’t too fond of it.” I sat up.

“But if you’re my man, you should be willing to suck it up, just for one night. I promise we won’t be too crazy, and I swear my cousin Nick won’t ask to be put on this time.”

First and last time I went somewhere with Milan, I ended up having to put my nine in her cousin’s mouth for thinking shit was a game when I told him I wasn’t there for no fucking hiring event. It wasn’t often I got out of character, but occasionally, a fuck nigga could pull it up out of me.

“I ain’t worried about Nick’s muthafuckin’ ass,” I said, grabbing my boxers and slipping them on. “And I’m not ya man, Milan. We cool and that’s it.”

These past couple years of me being in the game had altered a nigga’s perspective heavily. The shit that used to excite me and shit didn’t so much anymore. I learned quickly that witnessing all the death, betrayal, and everything else that came with this lifestyle made you mature much faster than expected. By saying that, Milan was a year my senior at twenty-seven, but mentally, she was immature as fuck to me.

All the shit she liked to do, I’d done tenfold already, and it was old as fuck to a nigga now.

While I liked to hit the club maybe two or three times a month, depending on the scenario, Milan could roll through that muthafucka two, three times a week.

Money and business always came first for me. However, Milan had an online boutique that she often forgot to fulfill orders for, making her gain a reputation as a scammer. She liked to get blackout drunk every Monday night and wake up Tuesday evening when, by that time, I’d already put in fifteen hours or more.

She wanted to spend money like it grew on trees, and floss, while I had several savings accounts—some hidden, some not—and only wore a few things that niggas had to just be up on thatrich nigga game to even recognize. On some if you know, you know shit.

We were worlds a-fucking-part, and the only thing we came together on with no issues was fucking. I wasn’t knocking her; she was young and lively. She just couldn’t be my lady living like that.

She pouted slightly but nodded, watching me continue to get dressed.

“Stay, baby. I won’t talk about the party anymore, and we can go another round.” She rubbed my spot on the bed after letting the covers fall from her naked body.

“Nah, I wanna go home.” I leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“Ple—I won’t ask again, okay?” she called after me.

“Lock up, love,” was all I said as I left out, anxious as fuck to be alone.

ONE WEEK LATER…

“This is also my thirty-,sixty-, and ninety-day plan if you were to hire me.” I handed off the folder with my documents printed on résumé paper to the frumpy hiring manager of the department store.

It was surreal to me that I would have to work somewhere else outside of medicine and nursing. Ever since I was a child, I wanted to be in the medical field and had been blessed thus far that the journey into that had gone smoothly. But now, with my license suspended and me only having my savings to live off, I needed a job. I didn’t care that my mother told me I didn’t need to contribute—I would. Not to mention, Sophie had needs, and I still had to pay the mortgage on my home that, because it was declared a crime scene, I couldn’t even live in.

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