I was in and out of the conversation, not really adding much to it.
When I heard my name.
“Islah, girl, are you okay for real?” Deja asked.
I shrugged. “I’m trying to be, but I just can’t stop thinking about Gio.”
All of them nodded.
“Listen,” Kenya said, reaching across the table, placing her hand on top of mine. “If that nigga can find you in the A, then yes, the nigga is crazy. But when you have a crazy nigga on your hands, you have to have a real one that will put him in his place, and you have that.” She paused while Deja and Renee nodded, agreeing. “The way Love steps for you, I’ve only seen it in the movies. That nigga gonna take care of you.”
I took a deep breath. What Kenya said made a lot of sense. As I looked down at my ring, a smile came over me.
By the end of my shift, I was ready to get in bed, maybe have a body rub if Love could slide through. I changed my clothes and gave each of my girls a hug before heading out.
I made it to the main floor of the hospital, talking to different people in passing. Just as I was about to walk through the sliding glass door, I called Love.
The phone rang longer than it normally did when I heard, “Wussup, Mamas,” coming from behind me.
I turned around slow and saw Love smiling at me with his nigga in the passenger seat. They both hopped out. I gave my keys to his nigga, already knowing the routine, while Love pulled me into his arms, kissing me and squeezing me tight.
“You okay?” he asked, brushing my hair outta my face.
I smirked. “I am now.” Feeling every ounce of worry leave my body.
Love walked me around to the passenger side and helped me in while looking around.
Well, pulled off fast, and he took me out to dinner, to a restaurant he had been wanting us to try.
Dinner was quiet, not awkward. I was just quiet, letting Love carry the conversation, talking about what he created and what he was working on.
After a while of us sitting across from each other, his eyes never left me, like he was reading everything I wasn’t sayin’.
He took a sip and placed his glass back on the table. “You still thinking about it.”
It wasn’t a question.
I exhaled while moving my fork through my food.
“I’m trying not to.”
He leaned back in his chair, still watching me.
“I don’t like that he got you feelin’ like that.”
“Me neither, I’m just worried,” I said low.
“Worried about what?”
I paused.
“Worried about what he would do if he knew that I moved on.”
“Move in with me then,” he said.
I blinked. “What?!”
Love sat up straighter in his chair. “Move in with me, then you don’t have to worry about none of that.”
