Page 52 of Save Room for Us

“You don’t.”

“How you know?”

“I saw you change to another top before. You forgot?” He whipped the car. “I don’t want no buff ass female; I want something soft. You perfect. I like to see shit move, not stay still.” He licked his sexy lips at the thought.

“Well, you got a bag of gelatin over here, so…”

He laughed again, and so did I. I liked making him laugh, I guess because not only did it make me feel like I was actually funny, but I enjoyed the sound.

“I got something stiff to hold you together, baby.” He gave me a look, eyebrow raised, and I simpered, giggling some. “Real shit, though, you look good. You carried and birthed a human, though, so don’t beat yaself up over that shit. Hard to focus on certain shit when you in a stressful environment as well.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, watching us cruise through the city. How he knew exactly what I was dealing with was crazy.

All I cared about was Sophie and surviving while with Cedric, not eating right and working out.

We ended up on Sunset, where Asif pulled into a huge parking lot. Stepping out, he came to help me from the car, keeping my hand in his. It felt nice walking along the sidewalk of the busy ass street, seeing other couples hold hands, just as we were, even though we weren’t a couple.

We ended up at this comedy club, which I hadn’t expected.

“You come watch live shows?” I questioned, surprised.

“Sometimes. I like seeing them unknown niggas perform. They be funny as fuck.” He smiled, leading me down the slim hallway. “Nothing like taking ya mind off shit with some good laughter.” He led me to our half booth table, all of them decorated with tiny lamps with lampshades atop.

A man came by once we were seated in the dimly lit room, with the stage facing us, to take our drink orders. I got juice while Asif ordered Hennessy.

“I’m actually excited. I’ve never been to a comedy show, but I like watching them on TV.”

“Who’s your favorite?”

“I would say Chris Rock’sNever Scaredor Martin’sYou So Crazy.” I laughed just thinking about it.

“Martin’s is mine too.” His eyes lit up as the man returned with our drinks. “No matter how many times I watch that shit, it’s funny as fuck. I gotta watch Chris’s.”

“I know. It doesn’t matter that I know the joke front to back; I crack the hell up.”

“We gon’ have to watch that shit together.” He took a sip. “Chris’s too.”

I nodded, unable to hide the giddiness I felt. As nervous as I was at the start of the night, Asif had made me feel comfortable. I noticed hewaslike his father, in some aspects, having thatwelcoming trait. I guess it depended on the scenario and the person.

We ordered some food which I thought was dope, considering this was a comedy show, and whilst we waited, the comedians started to come on and perform.

I’d never heard of any of them, but they were hilarious, for the most part. I noticed these underground guys didn’t care about being politically correct, saying whatever they wanted about whomever, just like back in the days.

I also noticed over time, Asif and I had gravitated closer and closer. It started with his hand on my thigh, then slight adjustments here and there before we were shoulder to shoulder. Then, his arm rested behind me while part of my back was against a part of his chest.

When one of the guys made a joke about gelatin, I laughed, turning to Asif and not realizing how close our faces would be. He was closed-mouth smiling, too, and it was so mesmerizing that what was supposed to be a quick glance turned into a lingering, smiling, blushing stare.

He pressed his nose to mine, then his soft lips, tilting my head back some. His big hand went under my jean jacket, running across the exposed portion of my stomach as we started to suck one another’s lips.

The room was dark, people were laughing uproariously, and the comedians were yapping, but all I could think about was his soft lips and rough hands causing a dampness in my panties.

His hand moved down a little past the waistband of my shorts, and when I tried to move back slightly, he whispered in that deep, raspy tenor, “Come here.”

Like I was under a spell, I listened, falling back into the kiss as his hand traveled deeper, right down between my legs.

His mouth moved to my neck, sucking in a way that had my clit hammering hard enough to overpower the sound of all the laughter, clapping, and even the yelling of the comedians.

I turned to face the man on stage telling some story I couldn’t pay attention to because of Asif sucking on my neck and playing with my clit through my lace underwear. Swiftly, he moved them to the side, capturing my mouth with his again, before toying with my bud.

---