Save Room for Us (Crenshaw Kings Book 7)

by Shvonne Latrice

You not like any woman I’ve ever met.”

“You selfless, beautiful, you got ya own shit going, don’t seek attention wherever you go, but you definitely get it. You loyal, maybe even when you shouldn’t be. My favorite is that as soft and womanly as you are, you strong. You don’t sit up and whine about shit. You either deal or handle it.” “Thank you. That was sweet.” I couldn’t stop smiling, so I focused on my food. “I don’t need you handling shit from here on out though.”

“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.”

“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.”

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.

I often forgot Asif was younger than me and would only remember when I kept trying to remember all the reasons why I couldn’t move forward with him.

“I must be special then.” “Very, love.”

“Future Mrs. St. Thomas, cuz.”

“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.

“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.”

Nipsey’s “Status Symbol 3”

“Who is this one, Sif?” “The missus,”

Asif laughed even harder, making me chuckle at how happy he looked. He was handsome all the time, but when he laughed, showing off that perfect smile, slight dimples, and pretty eyes, it was mesmerizing. I loved his laugh—deep, raspy, but with a good youth to it.

“Happy mothers raise happy children, love,

“Hit me if you need anything, love.” “Like what?” I frowned, truly wondering. “Anything, even if it’s wipes and Pull-Ups.” “Okay.” I nodded, knowing I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing such a thing. “Or shit, just to kick the shit, vent. I don’t really care what it is long as I see ya name on my phone. I know shit can get lonely being in the space you in, feeling like everybody hate you and shit or got some opinion about you.”

“Will Milan be on the phone too?” He chortled deeply, too, making me do the same at the fact that he found what I said to actually be funny. “Nah, she don’t wanna witness that shit.” “Witness what?” “Us.”

“I know we friends, but I want you. Long as I ain’t making you uncomfortable, let me do me. A nigga can’t see something I want and be idle, baby. I’m a go-getter.”

“I’m yours and you been mine since you walked into that fucking office. When I thought you was happy, I was willing to suffer and be a homeboy or some shit but now that you free, love, I gotta do what I gotta do; go for what I want. I’m ready to lock you down, ice out that finger, put Sophie on a nigga’s taxes, and take care of you. When you ready, of course.”

I peeped the scene, looking for Anastazia. We hadn’t talked much since our outing, and though I wanted to smother her ass, I didn’t at the same time.

I wasn’t selfish enough to not understand that she was going through a lot. Only reason I wasn’t putting as much pressure on her as a nigga wanted was because I did understand.

I’d preferred being patient, allowing her to naturally fall into this relationship versus being forced. I didn’t want her thinking shit was now or never ...

“Where big sis?” I questioned, trying to be nonchalant about the shit, but the way Analicia smiled like she knew a secret I didn’t let me know I hadn’t played it cool enough.

“So you don’t like her?” Analicia quizzed, brows kissing like she was readying to punch me if I said the wrong shit. “Nah, I do. This stupid ass nigga just be doing too much.” I nodded to my brother.

You interesting as fuck to me so I’m into what you be into.

I grinned, typing my reply, but looked up for a second to see Analicia glaring at me. I was confused until I realized Milan was in my lap, grinding hard on a nigga.

Me: You the only woman I would ever let pee on a nigga. Can I at least taste the pussy first?

Baby girl: They claim squirting is pee so if you can make me do that then…

“You got a boutique that can’t even send out orders, but she got several nursing degrees. You gotta have ya ass out to get niggas to pay you any attention, and all she gotta do is walk by, maybe smile if she want to. Yo’ five-year plan is having a baby by a nigga with clout so he can take care of you, while hers involves another degree and making sure her daughter is set.”

“Asif, I didn’t mean⁠—” “Nah, you did.” I pulled over in front of her building. “The biggest thing, though, is how basic yo’ thought process is in comparison to hers. You almost thirty, still thinking a fat ass and pretty face can’t make you basic. You got that fat ass, you got that face, and I still don’t fuck with you like that.”

“I ain’t mean to make you cry, love, but understand some shit. Don’t you ever call that woman basic in my presence. And if you do it behind my back, make sure word don’t get back to me. “You jealous and you hatin’. That’s normal ’cause yo’ feelings is involved, no matter how much you say they ain’t. But I ain’t the nigga that’s gon’ allow you to disrespect anything or anyone I got the utmost respect for.”

If sexy and soft was a person, it’d be Anastazia.

“Don’t be scared when it comes down to it, baby. I’m very dedicated to foreplay, so I’ll make sure you nice and wet before I even attempt.” I exhaled heavily. “I wanna fuck you bad too. But I’m chilling, love. I like yo’ pacing. Just know when you give a nigga that access, I’m gon’ take good care of it. Only murderin’ it in the best way.” “Okay.” She giggled softly again. “So you like foreplay?” “Love Foreplay. Need Foreplay. A nigga invented foreplay.”

“You gon’ be taken care of period, though, not just in the bedroom, baby.”

My family always fucked with me on how I was suspicious of everyone, everybody and their intentions who didn’t rock the Compton and St. Thomas name, but I didn’t give a fuck. Niggas and bitches alike couldn’t be trusted.

I want her to be respected and for them niggas to understand that she’s knowledgeable, she deserves the position, and she’s not to be disrespected. She’s not some pretty nurse that they could potentially get their dick wet with. Or some pretty chick fucking the boss.”

“I want her, but I wanna protect her more. Don’t want her thinking she gotta come to work with electric fence material on her panties.”

When I’d asked her to come work for a nigga, her main gripe was that she didn’t want to be thrown into a lion’s den of salivating street niggas.

Just keep shit separate if you can. When she working, treating her like an employee, mainly in front of them. When she clock out, shit, do you, young nigga.”

I wanna see about implementing a scholarship program for black underprivileged kids so they can go to school. Only stipulations will be shit like grades, not no unattainable shit like straight A’s though, and they have to attend a black college.” “I like it. But what if they don’t wanna leave home, assuming they’re from LA. Ain’t no black colleges here.”

“Majority of the black race that’s here migrated from southern states anyway. They need to take their asses over there and learn about the roots most of us got down there any fucking way. Then, bring their asses back home when they finish.”

“That and something for black homeowners. We gotta get our people some more fucking property ’cause all that shit contributes to generational wealth.” “You just might be the better version of me, young nigga.” He patted my back with a grin. “Ain’t no might.” I smiled. ...

Anastazia caught on and stood upright, clearly frustrated by the little joke these niggas thought would be funny. As she turned, Don’s eyes dropped to her round ass, licking his lips. “You can go. I don’t have time for this.” She sighed, smoothing the edges of her bun that had unruly curls coming from it. She was so fucking pretty. No matter how stressed she was, that honey brown complexion was always luminous and buttery.

“Fuck you looking scared for? I’m applauding yo’ fucking performance.” I clapped a bit more while staring at Don. “Nah, I was just kidding, boss.” He tried to laugh, but he was too terrified. With the quickness, I snatched his ass up by that minimal ass hang time he called braids, making him call out. “Asif!” Anastazia shrieked as I made Don face her, his face balled up in pain.

“I’m gon’ only say this shit once. The next time, I’m gon’ let this shit on my waist do the muthafuckin’ talking. If any one of you niggas make unwanted advances at Anastazia, I’m gon’ put you down quicker than a three-legged racehorse. “She. Not. Here. For. That. I don’t give a fuck if you playing, serious, or think she the one God sent into yo’ life. If I catch you trying to make a pass, I’m gon’ make sure you pass. Anybody got questions?”

“That goes for niggas who stand by and watch too. You see a nigga on bullshit and don’t step, I’m gon’ step.”

“Apologize to Anastazia.” I shook him a bit, making him yelp. “I—I’m sorry, Stazi.”

“My bad for what he did, love.” I tried to reach for her hand, but she stepped back a bit. “You didn’t have to do all of that, Asif. It was just a stupid joke.” She frowned up at me. “Yeah, it annoyed me, but what is he, nineteen?” “He twenty-six, but that’s not the fucking point, baby. You let one nigga get away with some shit, and next thing you know, everybody doing it.”

“With all due respect, baby, the way I did it is exactly how you have to. Let one muthafucka get off with mild repercussions, and they all gon’ think shit is a game. I run shit with an iron fist. I ain’t the big homie ’round this bitch. I’m the boss. I’m a cool ass nigga so long as you do what the fuck you ’posed to and don’t cross me, but I ain’t for the disrespect. “This a fucking job, and on top of that, you not here for their amusement or to feed their sexual appetite.”

I wanted to keep it real with Anastazia and tell her that while all I said was true, a part of me didn’t like the shit that just happened because she was for me. I didn’t want other niggas taking her for a joke, and I especially didn’t want other niggas trying their hand with her. If Anastazia was gon’ be single, cool, but if she wasn’t, she needed to be with me.

So, me telling her I went all out, not only because I demanded her respect from these niggas, but because in my head, she was mine, might not sit well with her. I had to ease my way in, making sure she understood I wasn’t that coward ass nigga she was used to and that our ideas of possession meant two different things. I wanted her to be safe. I wanted all her fucking time she didn’t spend working or with her family and friends to be mine. I wanted to wake up to her, go to sleep next to her. Listen to her tell me about all the weird types of treatments and cures she found from the seventeenth century. I wasn’t interested in keeping her locked up, depressed, and scared like that mark ass nigga.