Page 123 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

“Raya—“

“Maybe I’m not lovable.” She shrugs unconvincingly. “It’s whatever.”

Something in me breaks. I move to put my arm around her, but I stop myself. I just can’t shake the feeling that this could all be another game. I’m still questioning shit. Her. Myself.

But when she doubles over, sobbing, her whole body wracked with pain, I can’t just sit there.

I move before I can think, pulling her into my arms.

She clings to me, her fingers gripping my sweatshirt like she’s scared I’m gonna disappear. I rest my chin on top of her head, closing my eyes, inhaling the scent of her hair. I think about the last time I held a woman like this. I was powerless then. Useless.

As she cries into my shirt, I hold her tighter, even as my mind is telling me I shouldn’t do this. But what’s the alternative? I can’t leave her here.

“You’re coming with me,” I say against the top of her head.

She sniffs. “Where?”

“I’m not sending you back to that house.” My voice is firm. Final. “You’re coming to my place.”

She doesn’t argue.

I get up, helping her stand. Her legs are shaky, her breathing uneven. I lead her back down the hill, keeping my hand on the small of her back. She’s shivering now, and for the first time, I notice she’s out here in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

I stop, pull my hoodie over my head, and push it down over hers. When we get back to the parking lot, I make the decision to take her car. Mine can stay here. This is my site, after all.

I grab the keys from her and deposit her in the passenger side.

When I start the car, the check engine light greets me, bright and insistent, telling me what a fuckboy I’ve been for letting her drive around in this tin can. But how was I supposed to know? She never mentioned it. Barely let me get close to it.

That’s also how we got here.

Back at my place, I lead her straight up to my bedroom. We haven’t spoken a word to each other since the bridge, and that’s alright with me. I don’t wanna be lied to. I don’t wanna have to decipher. I just wanna make her feel better, even if it’s only for tonight.

She stands limply in the center of my room as I pull her shirt over her head. She lets me undress her without protest, then I lay her down on my bed.

I strip down, then slip in beside her. She turns to me, her face pressing against my chest. Her breath is warm. Her body is soft, melting against mine like she’s a part of me.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “For everything.”

I run a hand across her scalp. “Go to sleep, Ray.”

She sniffles, nodding against me.

I stay awake for a while, staring at the ceiling, watching over her in my own way.

I was out. I had the clean break I needed. But here she is in my arms again.

And I don’t know how to let her go.

33

Ace

I’m sweating when I wake up. It takes me a minute to remember there’s an extra body in my bed, adding heat, breathing softly against my chest.

Raya’s still here.

Her body’s curled into mine, her fingers tangled in the fabric of my shirt. It feels so natural waking up with her coconut-scented hair in my face. It’s almosttoofamiliar, like we never spent any time apart.

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