Page 59 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
“Is it too soon for the ‘what are we’ conversation?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“MiMi, all you gotta do is tell me what you want, and that’s what we are. I don’t need some big dramatic moment or timeline.” His hand found mine, fingers intertwining. “I like you and I want to be with you, but I don’t want to rush you into feeling the way I already do.”
“And how do you feel?” I asked, turning to face him fully.
“Like I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to be the person you call when something good happens or when everything goes wrong. I want to keep sweeping you off your feet until I’m six feet in a cemetery. I feel like I’d do anything for you,” He paused, studying my face. “Is that what you want?”
His lips pecked mine, and I pecked his back. And then naturally we met in the middle, our heads turning side to side, tongues dancing, hands roaming. Until we pulled back.
“Hell yeah, I do,” I whispered, looking into his eyes. His smooth face slowly moved into a grin.
“What do you want to call this?” he asked, bringing our joined hands to his lips to press a soft kiss to my knuckles.
“I want to be your girlfriend,” I said, the words feeling both foreign and natural on my tongue. “Officially.”
His smile was brilliant in the string light glow. “Then you’re my girlfriend, my yeah yeah, my pookie butt, my ole lady, my LT, my sun, my moon. Should I keep going?”
“I’m almost curious to see how long you can go.”
“My first, my last, my everything, my sand at the beach, my salt of the ear?—”
“Okay, okay,” I said, blushing, moving to get up and turn the music up some more, but he pulled me back into his lap. I leaned my head back on his shoulder, and he looked in my eyes again.
“I’ll chill, you blushing, and I don’t want you to get lockjaw. I need it in tip top shape. I’m your man, though. Simple as that.”
“That easy?”
“That easy,” he confirmed, his arms tightening around me. “Now, what else is on that mind of yours? Because I can see those wheels turning.”
I took a breath, gathering courage. “Where do you see this going? I mean, really. Because I need to know if we’re playing house or if you’re serious about building something.”
I took a breath, steadying myself before speaking. “Where do you see this going? I mean… really. Because I need to know if we’re just playing house or if you’re actually serious about building something with me.”
The words sat heavy between us, but I couldn’t take them back—and I didn’t want to.
Maybe it was the sex that cracked something open in me, made things feel more urgent. Or maybe it was my need to protect myself, to control what I could before things spun too far out of reach. But deep down, I knew the truth.
I was in love with him. And not the soft, fleeting kind either. The kind that made me think about forever, about merging routines and raising a son and healing the parts of me I thought I had to live with broken.
So yeah, I needed to ask. Not to rush him, but to see if we were looking in the same direction—because my heart wasn’t built for halfway.
“Sametra, we just made it official, and you already want a ring?” he asked. “Damn, what size?”
He was joking, making me smile, but I was serious.
“Seriously, Malik. Like do you want more kids? Are you worried about your job for real and just not telling me? Do you want to get married one day?”
“Baby,” his voice taking on that serious tone that made my stomach flutter, “I don’t play house. I’m thirty-seven years old. I know what I want, and what I want is you. In my life, in my house, in my future. All of it and then some.”
“Even with all my shit? Samaj, school, crazy baby daddy, the whole package?”
“Especially with all of that,” he said firmly. “First off, fuck your baby daddy. Secondly, that’s not baggage, baby. That’s your life. And I want to be part of your life, not some separate piece you keep in a box.”
I blinked hard, trying to keep the emotion from spilling over. The certainty in his voice always forced butterflies to dance in my stomach. “You really mean that.”
“Every word. And to answer your questions…yes, I want more kids. With you. Yes, I want to get married. To you. And no, I’m not worried about my job because I don’t put all my eggs in one basket, and I won’t let anyone tell me who I can love. I’ll deal with the consequences. I’ll bounce back.”
My heart was beating so fast I was sure he could feel it.
