Page 8 of Anything Necessary for Her (Crenshaw Kings #9)

“Okay, it’s . . . free dance time!” I shouted to my junior dance class.

Prolific had started having little ten-dollar dance classes and asked for some of the dancers to volunteer teaching.

Only a few of us agreed to it, which was surprising to me.

I loved having the opportunity to meet little girls who had the same dreams as me, and for only ten bucks.

When I was their age, my parents had to pay hundreds of dollars for my ballet classes, and the instructors weren’t nearly as nice as me and some of my peers.

As the little girls danced around the room happily, a man in the doorway of the classroom caught my eye. Like every other time I’d seen Low since Vegas, my stomach began churning, and my palms started to sweat. I’d never met a man who made me nervous yet excited at the same time.

Making my way toward him to find out, one, why he was here, two, how he even found me, and three, if he knew about Brenden Maddox, I did my best to keep my composure and not show him how anxious he had me feeling.

“What’s good?” He frowned, almost as if he hadn’t been expecting me.

“Did you hear about the boy?” I whispered, getting right to it.

“Damn, Banks.” He leaned up off the doorway. “I did.”

“Okay, so what do we do?”

He stared down into my eyes momentarily before responding, “ We ain’t doing nothing. I got it covered.”

“Let me help you. You did this for me.”

“I appreciate that, baby, but I been doing what I do for a while and don’t need any help.”

“I don’t want you going down for anything.”

“I won’t.” He inhaled sharply just as one of my students, Waverley, rushed up and hugged him.

The sight made me smile and step back, though I was confused on their relationship. Low didn’t have a kid, did he? Shit, maybe he did. It wasn’t like I was keeping tabs on his ass over the past years.

Once he stopped coming around and I started to get older, I rarely, if ever, thought about him. That was why it was so insane the effect he had on me now. It was nostalgic, reminding me of the days I was crushing on him hard.

Only now it wasn’t as childlike and unworldly. It was real.

“How do you know Waverley?” I asked, smiling down at the cutie. She shared some features with Low, but not completely, so maybe that was her mother in her.

Suddenly, I remembered her age and knew it couldn’t be possible for Low to have fathered her. I knew him still when she was born. This had to be a sibling or cousin.

“My baby sister,” he replied, and I hated that I sighed inwardly out of relief despite already coming to that conclusion myself.

I couldn’t say I didn’t want a man with a child, but I was an ambitious twenty-two-year-old, and being a stepmother wasn’t exactly a part of my short-term plans.

“Can we get some ice cream, Low?” Waverley asked him, staring up into his face.

“After you eat something. You know the rules.” He bent to kiss her face.

The sight before me was the cutest, and sadly, it made him that much more intriguing to me.

As I said before, I knew nothing about Low’s background.

My brothers constantly said he had people he was taking care of but never gave details as to who those people were.

However, I was able to conclude that Waverley was one of them.

“How long you staying out here?” he asked, eyes bouncing around the room behind me.

“Not long. I have a quick practice session with the ladies, and then I can go home. But don’t worry, I have a new detail.” I rolled my eyes.

“What happened to the old one?”

“Stupidly called my father that night and revealed that he couldn’t locate me. I haven’t seen or heard from him since Vegas.”

“Damn.” Low shook his head as we mirrored one another’s morbid smirks.

“Other than that, this is LA. Ain’t nobody gonna bother me. If they do, I have protection and can handle myself.” I winked.

“I believe you.” He stroked his beard. “That nigga was running from you like he was in a horror flick.”

I chuckled, and Low offered up a gentle smile with his fine ass. I wondered why he seemed to be against laughing and smiling, only doing it infrequently, as if it bothered him to allow it. It was also like he felt guilty for enjoying anything.

I’d noticed I’d never seen him dressed up before.

He was always in wife beaters, track pants, hoodies, joggers, jeans, and slides or Chucks.

I may have seen him in retro Jordans twice.

However, he was always clean, smelling amazing, and wearing a few jewelry pieces, including his Patek, that told you he dressed down because he wanted to and not because he had to.

Still, he was the sexiest man in the world to me.

“I’ve never seen you pick her up before,” I mentioned, wondering if he only started because he found out I was here. Usually Waverley’s nanny picked her up.

“I been in Vegas basically full time, but now work has . . . moved so no need for a nanny and shit anymore.”

“I’m hungry!” Waverley interjected loudly.

“Okay, we’ll see you next time, Waverley. Make sure you practice on your own this time, too, okay?” I squatted down to speak with her before we embraced.

I mouthed “bye” to Low as I turned to walk back into the class but felt him watching me. Turning some, I lifted a brow and asked, “Why are you watching me like that?”

“You a pretty ass girl, Banks?—”

“Woman. I haven’t been a girl for a long time, Willow.”

“You a pretty ass woman, Banks. Niggas gon’ always be looking.”

I hated the smile that journeyed across my face as he started to help his sister into the car, before climbing in himself.

Ugh.

Snapping myself out of it, I ventured back into the classroom which was now void of anymore junior dancers and full of my classmates.

“Banks knows all the fine niggas,” Jamie said as I sat beside Kailey to start stretching.

“I do not.” I shook my head.

“Your brothers, Trayvon, and now that nigga. Is that another brother?” another dancer named Frankie queried, looking as if she was a dog in front of a well-seasoned porterhouse.

“He is not a brother, but he’s also not an option.” I stretched to my other leg and ignored the look I felt Kailey’s ass giving me as the girls oohed and aahed.

“I just wanna say, whatever girls got a train ran on them by your brothers are the luckiest women alive. Them bitches is probably married and still reminiscing, rose in hand,” Briana threw out, causing me to turn my lip up in disgust while the rest of the ladies agreed through comments and guffaws.

My brothers had already mentioned that trains were gay adjacent and that any man who could get a hard on in the room with another nigga, would probably be willing to fuck him too. I didn’t wanna burst the ladies’ little fantasy bubbles, though, so I kept it to myself.

“If you had to pick two for a threesome, who would you pick?” Thais grinned mischievously like she was the Grinch.

“No! I do not wanna have this conversation! And . . . that wouldn’t happen anyway!” I hollered as they began shouting their answers against my wishes.

“Asif and Cemone! I know they’re the freakiest!” Kailey bounced in a split on her mat suggestively, making the girls cackle loudly as I shoved her playfully in revulsion.

Some agreed with her before Briana chimed in, “I’ll take it, but trade Cemone for Lequay. I got a thing for street niggas.”

“Y’all, please!” I faked a gag as Kailey cracked up, hugging me against my will while some girls agreed with Briana.

“Bashar and Khari for me. I feel like Bashar will make love to a bitch while affirming me, and Khari would ravage me. Perfect combo!” Katrina put her fingers to her mouth to symbolize chef’s kiss as some of the ladies agreed with her while laughing.

“I’m tuning y’all out at this point, but I will say, I have never in my life heard the same girl like Bashar and Khari,” I said.

All my life, women had been saying which brothers of mine they liked, and Bashar and Khari was a combo I had never heard.

“’Cause they don’t think like me. I’m smart.” Katrina tossed her ponytail as I rolled my eyes playfully.

“I’m going for Asif and, sorry, sis, yo’ daddy!” Thais commented, and the whole class let out uproarious laughter, comments, and screeches.

I had never been more disgusted in my life. I legit felt bile rising in my throat. The thought of anyone finding my dad remotely sexy was weird.

“Bitch, the daddy wasn’t an option!” Briana hollered in laughter.

“Not you sucking off the daddy while the son hit you from the back! You too freaked out! Get off them porn sites, sis,” Kailey replied, sending everyone including me into deep chortles.

“No, you’re wrong. I’m sucking Asif off while the daddy hits it from the back. Because he old, I gotta let him get his strokes in first before he tap out. Sif gon’ drive it home.” Thais shrugged as everyone fell out, while I shook my head, gulping some water so I wouldn’t vomit.

“Shakur . . . Unique . . . Lequay . . . Cemone . . .” Names kept being called out as I zoned out to think of Low purposefully and unintentionally.

Thankfully once the rest of the ladies got their choices out, we were able to change the conversation and then actually start dancing.

By the time class was over, I was exhausted and couldn’t wait to get home.

As soon as I did, I ate a quick snack since I wasn’t too famished, then showered and brushed my teeth.

The whole time, I kept picturing Low and that rare closemouthed smile he would give me occasionally.

He was too fucking fine, sexy, and adorable, and I hated it.

As I lay down, swimming in my thoughts, my doorbell rang.

Grabbing my phone, I checked my security camera app to see it was Trayvon holding a bouquet of red roses.

I didn’t know why I got excited thinking it was Low, when he had no idea where I resided and would have no reason to be pulling up on me.

As I padded to the stairs and descended them, I started to get annoyed with myself.

I felt like I’d reverted to that same teenaged girl who had a one-sided crush on a man who’d given no clues or hints to being interested.

He called me pretty, but it felt like he was just speaking on something that was a known fact versus him admiring it or being attracted.

“What are you doing here, Tray?” I opened the door, not interested in a conversation with him.

“Here.” He smiled brightly. He wasn’t as handsome as usual, and I guess it was because I was losing my attraction to him as time went on.

“Thanks.” I took the flowers and lifted my eyebrows briefly to let him know I was still awaiting my answer.

“Right. Can I come in? It’s important and something you gon’ wanna hear.”

I thought about telling him no but figured having him here talking to me was better than going back up to my bedroom, to mindlessly watch TV and mull over what Low’s compliments and wandering eyes meant.

I was pathetic. The nigga hadn’t so much as hugged me, and I was trying to decipher if he liked me.

“Fine, but don’t take long. I’m tired and ready to go to bed.” I waved for him to come in and closed the door.

My father had taught me to never walk away from the door and allow someone else to close it. Trayvon knew how I was by now, so he did as he was told instead of telling me he’d shut the door for me.

As soon as we sat down, he said, “I’ve changed my mind. I’m willing to talk with and meet your brothers and father.”

“Oh?” I got comfortable, turning toward him fully. It was far too late for this, but I was intrigued as to what changed his mind.

“Yeah.” He nodded, licking his lips and running his hands nervously up and down his dark jeans. “I love you, and I want to marry you either right after I’m drafted or just before.”

I chuckled. That wasn’t happening, even if he’d met my people when I’d asked him to initially. I wasn’t about to be someone’s wife right now, and he could only be speaking on right now because Trayvon was due to be drafted in the next couple months.

I wasn’t privy to drafting times outside of football and basketball because of my brothers, but I knew about this one because it was the talk among everyone how Trayvon would be a Los Angeles Bandana by summer.

“Tray, it’s a little too late.” I kept it real, setting the flowers down on my West Elm coffee table.

“I appreciate you changing your mind, but you took too long, and now I am no longer interested in going all the way with you. When I told you it was done, I meant that.” I peered into his eyes, watching his face fall.

“Baby, look.” He scooted closer to take my hands in his. “I apologize for not doing this shit earlier, but just please give me a chance to show you. Once you see that I can handle yo’ people, yo’ feelings is gon’ change.”

I stared at him, just taking him in for a minute.

Growing up with the brothers I had and the father I had, I’d learned to read people and well.

You had to pay attention to what people’s energy, body language, and demeanor were communicating more than the words they spoke.

And right now, Trayvon was saying all the right things, but everything else about him was saying the opposite.

Calling his bluff, I said, “Okay, let’s see. Lequay’s having a birthday party at a club, and I want you to come. All of my brothers will be there.” I smiled, watching Trayvon swallow the skittish lump in his throat as he nodded with a smile like that was great.

“That’s perfect. It’s perfect.” He leaned over to kiss me, but I backed away.

“Not until you prove everything you just sat here and told me.” I rose up. “Good night, Tray.”

“We can’t kick it for a bit?”

“I only kick it with niggas who can kick it with my brothers. You do that, and we can kick it all night.” I started for the door, tugging it open.

I knew Trayvon would either not show up or show up and be unable to deal, especially once Unique got to clowning him, once Khari pressed him, once Lequay sized him up with his skeptical, disapproving eyes, once Bashar made him feel dumb unintentionally, and once Asif noticed his lack of masculinity.

And if things really went left, Cemone would punch him.

Shakur wasn’t as predictable as my other siblings, but he didn’t like anyone that tried to date me, so regardless, Trayvon would have no allies. But we would see.