Page 14 of Anything Necessary for Her (Crenshaw Kings #9)

“Let’s run it again,” I said to Kailey as she threw up one finger before gulping down her water.

“Okay, one more time, then I need a break!” Kailey slammed her Owala bottle down, making some of the other girls look over.

“Don’t you want me to get the solo?” I chuckled as she came to stand beside me.

“I did until—look!” She nudged me, shouting in a whisper as her eyes zeroed in on the entrance of the ballet studio.

Low swaggered inside, black joggers, white T-shirt with the wife beater beneath, socks, and slides decorating his tall, lean but muscular frame. His tattoos were on display, the way I liked, and his gold rope chain shined nicely as it laid against his deep complexion.

I watched him, distractedly, as he walked up to Robin, the woman who managed the junior ballet class some of the girls taught.

Handing over his payment for what I assumed was Waverley’s class fees, he made light conversation before turning a bit, landing his eyes on me.

We smirked at one another, just before Nikita pulled his attention from me.

“Nikita.” She stuck her hand out to shake his, but Low kept his own in his pockets. “I’ve seen you come by a few times before. Your sister is so talented.”

“’Preciate that.” He nodded and started to leave.

“Hey.” Nikita ran to stand in front of him. “How about we exchange numbers?”

“For what?”

“For whatever.” She lifted her brows momentarily.

“I’m aight. Enjoy ya class.” He turned to me once again, winking with his sexy ass before leaving out.

Nikita watched the whole thing go down, her jaw on the floor.

“Close your mouth before the flies come!” I shouted to her as she started to storm back over to where everyone was practicing all over the large room.

“I thought you were fucking Trayvon!” Nikita boomed, standing in front of me with her horse mouth twisted and arms folded.

“I’m not fucking anybody, especially not Trayvon. You can have him if you want.”

“I don’t! I want that one! You’re a virgin, wasting people’s fucking time, Banks. Just like you’re wasting Kailey’s time having her practice with you for a solo I will have.”

“Nah. I think I will take him and the solo.” I winked at her as Kailey and a few other girls in earshot giggled.

“Mhm, if you say so.” Nikita switched off, her long braid swinging as she did so.

“You think it’s a coincidence that she looks just like a fucking horse and has that long ass braid tail too?” Kailey quizzed as I laughed.

“Let’s focus.” I waved her crazy ass off.

Practice came to a close about an hour and a half later, and I couldn’t wait to relax. My plans to go home, bathe, and soak flew out of the window as soon as I spotted Low climbing out of a Lamborghini.

“What you ’bout to do?” He took my bag off my shoulder, like always, in order to carry it to my car.

“Nothing,” I replied, beaming.

“Aight. I wanna take you out.”

“In public?”

“Yes, in public, but don’t trip. I got all that covered.

” He reached to brush his hand across mine gently, but it still sent a heatwave throughout my body.

Our fingers intertwined slightly, and though it was a simple, barely there gesture, I felt my nipples harden and heart thrash around my chest cavity at his touch.

“Okay.” I spoke softly before our fingers untangled themselves.

We split up to ride in our own vehicles, and he followed me to my townhouse to wait while I showered then changed into my cactus green mini dress by Christopher Esber. I paired it with some four-inch gold Bottega Veneta knot sandal heels, and the mini square gold Chanel classic flap.

I let my long hair hang freely, since my mama had just redone it, and then slipped on my Cartier bracelets, ring, and kept on my thin gold chains I usually always wore.

After spraying on my Burberry Her perfume, I left and treaded down the stairs to see Low on my couch, legs gaped, with his long arms thrown across the back.

He looked just as gangsta as he was, but the innocent and impressed expression he wore on his handsome face as he greedily drank me in was what sped up my heart rate.

“Damn, baby.” He looked down at himself. “They gon’ think I’m yo’ fucking driver.” He ascended, just as I neared him, towering over me while his large hands brushed my waistline.

“They will not. They will think you’re a hood nigga with a pretty, spoiled girlfriend.”

“I can work with that.”

“Good. My daddy always said the easiest way to tell how much money a man was making was to look at his woman.”

“Then I’m doing good.” Low smirked.

“You gotta pay for some of my shit first.” I trailed him as he went to the door to tug it open.

“No issue.” He pulled out two thick knots of cash and handed them to me as I was bypassing him to step outside.

“What is this for?” I shoved it down into my purse.

“For whatever. If you need more, I got more.”

We exchanged closemouthed smiles that said more than words ever could, before he led me to his Lambo and helped me inside. Just like his Tahoe, this appeared to be custom and smelled just like his cologne.

“So I get waffles and money without giving it up, and the girlies who have get nothing?” I half joked once he was in the car as well, buckling up.

“You knew long before today you could get whatever you want from me, Banks.”

He reversed out of my driveway and into the street.

Low explained we would be driving for a minute before handing over his phone to me so I could choose whatever songs I wanted to play from his music app.

While I did, he got constant notifications via text, some of them from Free or a man named Jere, and others from numbers that clearly belonged to women. The ones belonging to women weren’t stored, but I could tell from the nature of the preview that continued to pop up, what their gender was.

I nibbled on my lip, finding it challenging to focus on what I wanted to hear as my mind began to conjure up all kinds of thoughts pertaining to the seven and counting bitches that had texted Low since I’d gained possession of his phone.

“You take that long to start? I would’ve thought as a dancer you’d have some shit popping by now,” he commented on how long I was taking.

“I don’t dance to the type of music I listen to, Low.” I half smiled as much as I could, keeping my eyes on his phone.

I finally settled on allowing Kendrick Lamar’s latest album to play so I wouldn’t have to play deejay on his phone continuously.

I didn’t know how to feel about him freely handing over his phone to me, knowing it was hot. It made me wonder if he was purposely trying to turn me off. But if so, why was he, in a sense, taking me on a date? Never one to hold my tongue about shit, I decided to question the source.

“The 8976 number texted like three times, so you may wanna check it,” I said as Kendrick began to rap. When he simply dropped the phone into his lap, it infuriated me. “Did you want me to see that or something?”

“See what?”

“Eight nine seven six and them other bitches texting you, Willow!” I had to chuckle at myself for getting upset when me and this nigga had never even kissed.

“No.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “But I don’t give a fuck about what they saying, so neither should you. I wanted you to cut some shit on, and I got nothing to hide, so I ain’t see the issue.”

“Well, I didn’t like that. It ruined my mood and got me feeling some type of way.” I stared out of my window as he dipped down the 110 freeway.

“Why?”

“Because you’re taking me out and they’re texting you about seeing you, fucking you, and sending pictures and shit!”

“You heard what you said?” He glanced at me.

“Uh, yeah. I think before I talk and make moves, unlike niggas,” I retorted.

He snickered at my rudeness, leaning one arm on the door as he used the hand attached to it to steer coolly. “I’m taking you out while they begging for my time and attention.”

Nibbling on my fresh acrylic in the color I’d gotten for him like a lovesick puppy, I bounced my leg as I thought about his statement. It was true, but I was still bothered.

“I still don’t wanna see that.”

“I got you. I don’t want you to be mad though, baby.” He reached over to take my hand in his, keeping his eyes glued to the road. “It wasn’t my intention to upset you. I’m so used to them hitting my phone and ignoring it, I ain’t think shit of it.”

I gripped his hand back, making him bring the back of mine to his mouth for a kiss as I watched, my anger melting by the second.

“You had sex with all of them?” I questioned.

For the first time ever, being a virgin made me feel insecure.

I knew he didn’t know, and now I was hesitant to mention it.

If he was this sexual and consistently, once he learned I was a virgin who only knew as much as my best friend and other girls had told me, our sexual tension fire would burn out quickly.

And because of how I was raised, I was a one and done type when it came to a nigga fucking up. The moment Low cheated, I would be finished with his ass forever.

I hadn’t even thought that far in advance initially, but seeing how easily he could get access to other women—something I should’ve known, given his lifestyle—made me uneasy.

He scratched at his beard, which already gave me my answer before he said, “I have.”

“Recently?”

“Depends on who it was you saw texting. Why you asking me this shit?” He frowned, repeatedly switching his focus back and forth between me and the freeway.

“Never mind. I just wanna enjoy this little date,” I said.

Low stayed quiet for a beat then nodded. “That’s what I want too.”

Altering my mood, I turned up his radio and rapped along with Kendrick, making Low smile as he watched me as much as he could while driving.

We ended up at this restaurant right off the water named Geoffrey’s and were seated at a table right off the balcony. It was a Wednesday, so the place was sparsely populated, giving Low and I the feel of having the eatery to ourselves.