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Then stop acting like one. Get back in this bed.
Last night was good, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I just need to go home and& and&
He simply had to let her go, because she needed to get home and figure out what the hell was
happening to her. Why she felt so& vulnerable. As if she would fall apart at any minute. Vulnerability
was a foreign emotion to her. She didn t like it at all.
If she entered into an affair with Miguel, she knew she would never be whole again because whenever
they ended their relationship, a piece of her would remain behind with him.
It wouldn t be like when she lost her virginity to her brother s bad boy frat brother who broke the
rules: no sisters, ex-wives, baby mommas, or ex-girlfriends. It wouldn t even be like when she thought
she d lost her heart to her boss at the restaurant in Miami.
With Miguel, she knew she would lose her heart. Such was the danger he presented a danger she d
recognized when they met at Seth s Bar only days ago. An affair with him wouldn t be casual because she
risked losing a part of herself.
He rose from the bed with graceful ease, unashamed in all his nakedness. It s Saturday. You owe me
a meal, remember, for not telling your employers that you were using my pool without permission. And
I m looking forward to more of what we shared last night. He continued to speak in a calm voice, as if
he were telling her to stop at the store to get milk.
I need to take a shower, she mumbled as he prowled closer, pressing backward against the wall,
hoping to disappear within it. I I need clean clothes. I need underwear.
He reached her and electricity sizzled across the small space separating them. One hand came to rest
on the wall above her head. His light blue eyes looked steadily down into her brown ones.
You can take your shower here, and you can wear one of my shirts. With his other hand, he
reached up and eased the dress from her death grip and dropped it at their feet. And don t worry about
underwear. You won t be needing any today. He scooped her up into his arms. Time for your
shower.
Samirah looked into his eyes and brushed the dark, sleep-rumpled hair back from his forehead. Her
stomach tightened, and she buried her face in his neck. How could she resist when he smelled good
like the morning air, good sex, and all man?
Whipped. That s what she was after one night. She was already in too deep, falling for him fast and
hard. She knew it just as sure as she knew her own name. All she could do now was enjoy her time with
him with the understanding that her heart wouldn t recover when it was time to let go.
* * * *
Hours later, Samirah descended the stairs in search of Miguel. She wore one of his long-sleeved,
button-down shirts. After their shower together, they d made love again. Then they took a nap, after
which Miguel left her upstairs and returned thirty minutes later with a tray laden with a breakfast they
ate together before tumbling once more into each other s arms.
When she rolled out of bed, the clock said twenty minutes after twelve. She d already called to check
o n Geneva and let her and Thomas know she was fine. They didn t question her whereabouts but
expressed their appreciation for checking in.
On the first floor, Samirah found the kitchen empty. She sauntered through the house, noting the
same sterile décor as upstairs. White or gray everywhere and nothing on the walls. In the living room she
stopped in front of a table displaying a few photographs. One in particular caught her eye. It was a
picture of Miguel and a young boy of about eight or nine who bore a striking resemblance to him. The
boy stood holding a baby crocodile up to the camera, and Miguel stood behind him, smiling. She
recognized the spot as Bayside Marketplace in Miami. She even knew the vendor who people paid to
take photos with his baby crocodile, snake, and iguanas.
Did Miguel have a son?
She realized she knew so little about him, and she wanted to know more.
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