Page 37 of Save Room for Us

“So you just knew I would be willing to see you, huh?”

“Nah, I didn’t. I was in the area with high hopes though.”

“I guess you can come. I will tell my other little friend next time,” I joked.

“You very funny, Anastazia. Do what you gotta do though, and let that nigga know he can’t go. I see I gotta start putting the word out that you ain’t accepting friendships of any kind.”

“Here you go.” I smirked.

“Except I’m serious. I’m gon’ let muthafuckas know the deal.” He didn’t chuckle or sound humorous in his tone at all. “Just in case you try to wild out, I won’t feel bad about laying a nigga out if he already knew what was up.”

Was he serious? I’d never dated a real hood nigga before, so I wasn’t exactly sure how shit went. Cedric was a fraud, but he was the closest thing to street that I’d engaged with.

“I thought we were just being friends, Asif.”

“We are, but I’m that possessive ass friend. The kind that get upset when you try to add muthafuckas to the clique.”

“I see.” I giggled. “Text me when you get here.”

“Aight, baby.”

We hung up, and I went to let my mother know I was able to get Sophie down and was about to head out.

I searched through my garments for something cute, flattering, and comfortable to wear, which was more difficult than it sounded. While I’d lost majority of my baby weight, I wasn’t as toned and taut as I used to be pre-Sophie. Therefore, my tight lounge dresses didn’t look as flattering as they once did. Where I used to sport a flat stomach, I now had a slight pudge.

Realizing nothing I chose would do, I decided on the dress that stopped mid-thigh. I would just wear one of my oversized jean jackets to shield my insecurities.

I hated that I even thought this way, but after spending years with a man who talked down to you, it was hard not to develop a complex. Additionally, my body had changed from carrying and giving birth, so that didn’t too much help. Then, I almost always ate out after having Sophie, too afraid that Cedric would drug anything I cooked at home like he used to.

I’d seen the women Asif surrounded himself with, and they were video vixen worthy, even Milan. Her body was stacked in all the right places and slim in other right places. Where I had a nice helping of ass, thanks to my baby, other parts of me weren’t as enticing to the eye. I’d began to feel like my breasts had shrunk due to all the breast feeding.

Combing my silk press down, I picked my vibrating phone up off the coffee table to see Asif telling me he was pulling up. The doorbell sounded off, and for a minute, I froze, wondering who the hell it was. Upon peering through the peephole, I saw Asif. I hadn’t expected him to get out of the car.

“Hey.” I tugged the door open and went outside.

I moved past him, but he grabbed my hand, tugging me back gently and embracing my body. He smelled so good, and his hard body felt amazing against my… much less hard one.

Keeping me close to him, he tilted my head back some and then pressed his lips to my forehead. I loved the way his beard scratched against my face. It’d been a minute since I was this close to an actual man and wasn’t trying to defend myself.

“Don’t walk past me without some type of greeting, Anastazia.” He trailed me, and I felt like he was looking at my ass.

When I glanced over my shoulder, I was able to confirm that he was, as he dug down into the pocket of his Rhude shorts for his keys.

“Duly noted.” I half smiled.

“Asif!” some nigga shouted and threw his hand up.

Asif returned the gesture, though quietly, keeping his head on a swivel as he opened the door for me. His arms were so big and strong, making me want another hug, but I felt like I would ruin my panties if I got it a second time.

“You look pretty, love,” he stated, somewhat absentmindedly as his eyes darted up and down my outfit, landing on my toes peeking through the Dior sandals I had on.

“I do?” I asked, surprised a bit, and when he nodded, I said, “Thank you.”

“Aight, so where we going first?” He buckled up as I took in his Lamborghini truck.

It looked custom made and smelled just like him. His car was clean, not littered with fast food papers, cups, or weed crumbs in the crevices like my ex.

“Ooh, a chauffeur. Let’s see, for starters, I need to go to the bank to put some money in my accounts and… Sophie’s.” I was thrown off by him reaching over and fastening my seat belt for me. “Thank you.”

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