Page 72 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

“Are you visiting?” she asks.

None of your fucking business, hoe.

“Yeah. With my girlfriend,” he says, gesturing to me.

I pretend I’m still on my phone, but I’m clocking everything. She sees me. She knows I’m right here. And yet, she rolls her eyes and keeps talking like I don’t exist.

“I’m here with my girls,” she says. “I actually saw you yesterday on the beach.”

Ace nods, already disengaging. “Cool. Hope y’all are having fun. It’s beautiful here.”

He’s too polite.

“It is!” she agrees, then she lowers her voice. “She’s not getting in?”

My jaw clenches.

He glances back at me. “Probably not.”

“Why?” she snickers. “Doesn’t wanna get her hair wet?”

I set my phone down and prepare to crash out on this hoe, but Ace beats me to it.

He makes a ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’ type of face and says, “Nah. She’s good right where she is. Sugar melts in the water.”

I try my best not to smile, I really do, but inside, I’m dying. It’s so corny and sweet.

I love him.

I’msoin love with him.

He swims over to me, leaving her right where she belongs—alone. I hope she drowns, but I’ll leave that up to the lord.

“Hey,” he says, swimming up between my legs. “You good?”

“I’m great,” I say, running my fingers over his damp waves. “I just don’t wanna leave.”

He rests his forearms on my thighs. “I know, baby. I wish we could stay. We’ll do a longer trip next time, I promise.”

I believe him.

Ace keeps his promises.

I move around the bathroom, gathering my things, my stomach twisting at the thought of going back to reality. To our separate homes. Back to text messages and dates.

I wannalivewith him. Wake up to him. I’m ready to start our life together and live forever like we did this weekend.

Back home…there are obstacles.

Secrets.

Things I might not be able to hide if this keeps going like it has been.

I need to lock this down asap.

One last check of the counter, and I’m ready. Then I spot Ace’s cologne. A midnight blue bottle with Arabic writing on the front. I pick it up and put the nozzle to my nose, inhaling deeply, stifling a moan. It’shim.

Behind me, the shower runs. Steam curls through the air as Ace washes the chlorine off of him. He can’t see me. Probably can’t hear me, either.

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