Morning.
Real life.
Going to work from her place like it belonged in the rhythm of us.
Inside, she kicked off her heels by the door, and I set my bag down beside the console like it had every right to be there.
Then she turned to me.
We kissed in the quiet of her foyer, slow at first, no hurry on it. Just the feel of her mouth, the scent of her skin, the softness of her body under my hands, all of it settling me and winding me up at the same time.
When we pulled apart, she smiled against my mouth.
“You looked good up there tonight,” I told her.
She laughed softly. “Up there?”
“On that rooftop. In your lane. In that dress. All of it.”
Her eyes held mine.
“You came for me.”
“Yeah.”
“I know.”
There was so much in the way she said that I didn’t even try to answer it with words.
I picked up my bag with one hand, caught hers with the other, and let her lead me upstairs.
And walking behind Talia Vaughn toward her bedroom with my overnight bag in my hand and work clothes ready for tomorrow, I had the clearest thought I’d had all week.
Whatever this was, it had already become part of my real life.
And I wasn’t trying to lose it.
eighteen
. . .
A coupleof Saturdays after the Burton event, I was in my parents’ kitchen with a church donation check in my purse and my mother talking to me like she had all day.
The kitchen smelled like coffee, toast, and the lavender oil she rubbed into her hands after washing dishes. My father was somewhere in the den with the television turned up just loud enough to let the whole house know he was already deep in somebody else’s game. Sunlight came through the lace-trimmed curtains over the sink and made the yellow walls look softer than they did at night.
I set the envelope on the table beside my mother’s purse.
“There,” I said. “Tell Reverend Robinson not to go looking for me because I sent it with you.”
My mother glanced down at the envelope, then back up at me. “You could’ve just mailed it.”
“And y’all could just use Zelle, but here we are.”
That got the smallest smile out of her.
“You know your father doesn’t trust none of that.”
“Your husband doesn’t trust weather apps.”
