Page 7 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

I start walking before my brain even gives me the command. Kamryn is still in the same spot, but I’ve forgotten all about her.

“Are you stalking me?” I joke, stopping just behind Raya.

She whirls around so fast, I take a step back.

I expected her to smile, flirt, roll her eyes, and maybe throw a slick comment about me forgetting to call her. Instead, she stares blankly, and I feel like a stranger who just interrupted her day.

My stomach tightens. I feel stupid as hell. Fine as she is, she probably has hella niggas sweating her. She probably doesn’t even remember me.

“Ace, right?” she finally says.

“Yeah. We met at Cafe DeMarco.”

Her face tightens. “Weren’t you supposed to call me a few days ago?”

I run a hand over my jaw, feeling the weight of my own mistake. “Yeah, my bad. I got busy with work shit.”

Her lips part, then close. A slow blink follows.

“Work shit,” she repeats, like she’s rolling the words around in her mouth, tasting the excuse before spitting it back out. “What’s the nature of thiswork shit?”

Hearing it said back to me like that drives home how weak it sounds.

“I’m on a major project. We’re building a sustainable bridge.”

She stares, and it’s unreadable.

“It’s a big deal,” I add.

She exhales slowly, her head tilting. “So you didn’t call me because you’re building a bridge. Interesting.”

“A lot goes into it.” I try not to sound defensive.

“I’m sure. Tell me, does that bridge lead to my pussy?”

I nearly choke.

A jolt of heat moves through my body, landing in my boxers. Swallowing hard, I shift my weight from one foot to the other. She stays cool, though, her eyebrows raising slightly as she waits for my answer. I try not to keep her waiting too long, but, damn. She caught me off guard.

“Obviously, not,” I finally say.

“How sad for you,” she says, poking out her bottom lip.

My mouth waters.

“Anyway,” she says, “it was nice meeting you.”

I know I should do something, maybe call her bluff or say something slick, but my brain is lagging, too busy replaying those words and how her mouth looked when she said them.

She turns, and I grab her arm, feeling my chance slipping away.

“Wait. Okay, I don’t really have an excuse.”

Her eyes shift down to my hand on her arm. Something flickers in her expression, but I can’t place it. Whatever it is, it’s dark.

For a second, she stares, and I think she wants me to let her go. But I can’t. Her boldness has me hooked.

“I’m gonna call you,” I say. “Tonight.”

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