Page 40 of Save Room for Us

As frightened as Cedric had me, I wasn’t so sure he could’ve had me behaving like Milan. However, I had to know. I wasn’t trying to fall back in or even entertain a crazy, possessive nigga again.

“She not my woman.”

“She surely acts like it. And her eyes told it all; she’s in love with you.”

“You jealous, Anastazia?”

“No!” I laughed, realizing I said that a little too excitedly. “I’ve had my fair share of a man talking down to me.”

“I feel it.” He nodded. “You ain’t deserve that shit.”

“But Milan does?”

Shrugging as he seemed to ponder, he replied, “You only deserve what you allow. In yo’ case, you allowed the shit out of survival, so nah, you ain’t deserve it. Milan allows it because she don’t wanna lose that imaginary ass spot she believe she got in my life. She don’t give a fuck how I treat her long as I’m still digging her out and letting her sit in my lap in public.”

I nodded, appreciating his mindset. Analicia was right that Asif didn’t act his age or even talk like the niggas his age. I was twenty-six not that long ago, and most niggas had just gotten their first car, still lived at home, didn’t know the first thing about dating, and acted like they couldn’t live without weed andCall of Dutyor2K.

Asif wasn’t like that at all. He was smart, perceptive, thoughtful, respectful, and focused. He might’ve been very suspicious of people, but I was sure something had happened to make him that way. Most importantly, he was far more mature than Cedric, despite the latter being almost ten years older than him. In fact, I often forgot Asif was younger than me and wouldonly remember when I kept trying to remember all the reasons why I couldn’t move forward with him.

“Makes sense,” I finally said.

“I hope that shit ain’t turn you off of a nigga.” He held out the bag the food came in, awaiting my trash.

“Maybe,” I half joked.

“Then I just gotta work harder. I ain’t no stranger to that shit.” He opened the door and stepped out to throw it away. I took that time to hopefully stop blushing. “You know I don’t usually eat in my whip,” he stated, reversing once he got back in.

“I must be special then.”

“Very, love.”

The ride home was eventful in a way. Every light Asif stopped at, niggas would run to the car to slap hands with him through the window. I’d never seen anything like it.

“Who dis, Sif?” a guy asked as we sat at the red light on Florence and Crenshaw. He was ducking a bit, trying to see me in the dark car.

“Future Mrs. St. Thomas, cuz.” Asif hit the car light, making me drop my jaw in shock at him as he and the man laughed.

They both looked at me, admiration in both of their eyes.

“How you doing, beautiful?” The man cheesed.

“Just fine. You?” I smiled.

“Better now.” He then looked to Asif. “Where y’all be finding these pretty ass bitches?”

“This a woman right here, dog. Keep it respectful.” Asif waited for the man to acknowledge what he said with an apologetic nod before continuing. “The pretty ones like this are rare as fuck, but they def’ not on the streets like you, muthafucka.”

The man and Asif laughed before slapping hands, the former saying goodbye to me as Asif turned the light off.

“He was funny.” I cheesed.

“He not that funny.” Asif squinted his eyes playfully at me as he pulled over to a liquor store.

“You jealous?”

“Always. Forever.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a wad to peel off some cash. Grabbing his gun, he secured it in his waist, then got out of the car, the engine still running, and Nipsey’s “Status Symbol 3” bumping. “Come with me.” He opened my door to get out of the car.

“Shouldn’t you cut the car off?”

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