Page 141 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

He doesn’t say a word, but I have his attention.

“If you wanna be alone—“

“Nah.” He breathes deep, exhaling sharply through his nose. “I’m just…processing a lot of shit. My sister’s car got vandalized.”

That’s quite the understatement.

“Then there’s my pops and…you.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m all over the place right now.”

“It’s okay.”

A few silent minutes pass.

“So I make you feel safe?”

I tilt my head. “You really do.”

“Believe it or not, that means a lot to me.”

“I believe it.”

He moves to sit next to me on the bed, filling the space with his presence. It feels good to be near him, especially given where I was just a week ago.

“Can I ask you something?” he says.

I nod.

“I’m really the first? You didn’t have any uncles or cousins or friends? Your brother?”

I don’t wanna tell him that my uncles are just as bad as my father, or that my only male cousins are both womanizers who caused the girls around them more harm than good. My brother is dead to me.

And I don’t feel like getting into my philosophy on men, women, and friendship.

Basically, I think it’s impossible.

I’ve never had a male friend who didn’t secretly wanna fuck me. And on the off chance there was one or two who were genuine, I know if the opportunity presented itself, they would fuck me. Even men who aren’t attracted to me specifically would fuck me, because men will fuck a hole in the wall if they have enough lotion to rub around the edges.

All of this is why I have no respect for them. But I can’t say that.

“No,” I say instead. “No other men. Just you.”

He scoots to his left until our shoulders and thighs are touching.

“Your dad…” he begins, and my stomach twists. “How bad was it?”

I know what he’s really asking. He wants to be let in again. He wants to save me, and I think he knows I’m not lying about this, because who the fuck would lie about something so heinous?

I wish I could lie about it. I’ve spent my whole life keeping that part of me locked up tight. I refuse to relive it, no matter who’s asking.

I pull my knees up, wrap my arms around them, and stare at the floor. “It was bad enough to make me feel unsafe,” I say. “And dirty. And ashamed. And that’s all I have to say about it.”

Ace turns his body to face me straight on, resting his elbows on his knees. He’s locked in.

“And your ex…what’s his name?”

“Ferris.” I swallow hard. His name still tastes like acid on my tongue. “He made everything worse,” I say. “He knew what I went through, and he still used it against me.” I hug myself tighter. “You’d think a man would wanna protect the person they claim to love.”

He brings a warm hand to the back of my neck, massaging gently. “Raya,” he says softly. “It wasn’t your fault. I feel like…on the list of people who should feel ashamed, you gotta be at the bottom, baby.”

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