Page 33 of Ms. V's Hot Girl Summer

“So good, Ms. V. You did so good.” Orlando grinned, delighted to see my fountain while I watched the mess I made on him and the kitchen floor.

“I’ve never, I…what just—” A loud vibration startled us both. My phone lay next to me, Milton’s name flashing on the screen. Maybe shutting my eyes would make the image disappear and my racing heart calm down. The decadent feeling seeped out, chased by panic and terror.

“I… I gotta go to sleep; I…this shouldn’t have happened. I am so sorry.” The heat that cradled me earlier left me now feeling suffocated. Orlando’s hurt expression sat heavy on my chest, but I couldn’t focus on that right now.

“Oh damn, well, I can’t say I’m sorry that happened, but I’m sorry you feel that way. Let me help you down.”

“Oh no, no, no, you’re good. And I think I’m saying this wrong. This—” I waved him away, and down there between my legs waved at him too but a beckoning one instead. “That was phenomenal. 10/10. I would write any reviews to the ladies you’re dating if you need to, but it was wrong because I’m trying to have something serious with Milton, and even though he and I ain’t exclusive, I don’t want to…yeah, I’m blabbering.” I chuckled, attempting to erase the somber mood that had overtaken us.

“I get it,” Orlando said in a clipped tone, and his posture completely changed. No longer did I feel he fit perfectly with me. His aura screamed Do Not Approach. Coldness settled between us as he stood watching me scramble down off the counter. I hesitated, eying the pants on the floor, wondering how to bend with any sense of decorum, but his chivalry must have been deeply ingrained because he bent over and handed me my sweatpants.

“Good night, Orlando,” I said, pleading with my eyes for him to understand my position.

“Good night, Trinidad.”

And for once, I wished he’d called me Ms. V instead.

FIFTEEN

Orlando

Darkness greeted me early in the morning. The comfortable bed could not cradle away the frustration that settled in my bones after the night I had with Trinidad. Her scent of lemons, passion, and woman still lingered even after I’d taken a shower and brushed my teeth. Or maybe it was just my imagination, conjuring her yet again so I would remain taunted and unfulfilled.

I didn’t care about coming; well, I fucking cared about coming, but I didn’t need to come last night to feel satisfied. Trinidad’s ecstasy had been a sweet reward until that man she dated called and poured cold water into the pseudo intimacy we had created together. One call, and we both stepped back into reality. A reality where the two of us had no future, not even a present together.

Damn.

Avoidance helped me so much in many ways, but not in this matter. My brain and heart refused to connect. No matter the reality, falling in love with her was nonsensical; my heart had started the process months ago with no input from me. Catching feelings for an unattainable woman tracked, though. When had I ever gotten what I wanted?

If the bed wasn’t going to help, maybe an early run would do the trick. My mood needed to shift by the time I hit the road with Trinidad; I couldn’t let her see how affected I still was from last night. Trinidad did not need the burden of my hurt feelings from her rejection. She’d set her intentions clearly from the beginning of the day, regardless of how well we’d clicked and how charged the sexual tension was between us.

Getting my shorts and trainers on, I quietly left the house, hitting the pavement as if it owed me for last night. In any other place I’ve traveled, I’ve never felt fully comfortable running for exercise unless it was at a gym or a park. Here in Ofele, there was no fear of being mistaken for anything but a tall, dark-skinned Black man on a morning jog. Shit felt good.

The heat subsided enough to make the run an okay one. By the time I came back to the rental, the sunrise sun glowed, illuminating the streets of Ofele with that otherworldly gleam. Upstairs I heard steps, probably Trinidad getting ready to head out. I had about fifteen minutes to shower and be ready to take her based on that time we had agreed upon. She’d texted me last night asking to head to the airport early, without knowing if Delilah or the kids had even gotten her a flight. We’d texted back and forth. I didn’t think it was a good idea for us to rush there without a precise plan, but she was adamant.

Trinidad: I figure, if I’m there early, I can charm my way onto a flight.

As promised, I stood by the door at seven, and Trinidad emerged from her room with her luggage.

“Let me help you with that.” I moved with the speed required to avoid her saying no. By the time she opened her mouth, I was already halfway up the stairs.

“Oh, you don’t have—”

“I do,” I said, grabbing her carry-on and going straight back down. Movement prevented my organs from rioting against me in her presence. I didn’t need to focus on the ache in my chest and the hardness between my pants after seeing her today and smelling her citrus and woman scent. Just the scent reminded me of last night, and I half wished I’d waited to wash my face a little longer.

“Alright,” I heard behind me as we made it outside. “Did you sleep okay?” she asked, attempting to pretend everything was okay.

“I slept like shit, but I think you knew that already.”

“I didn’t. I mean, I was hoping that wasn’t the case.”

“I know, sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so…salty. My apologies.” Once I put her luggage in the trunk, I rushed to open the door of the car before her. I stared, frozen in time and place, focused on her alone.

Trinidad, under this sleepy sun, shades on in a black maxi dress with straps. Trinidad, with the awkward, apologetic smile and glowing ochre-brown skinI now knew tasted like a spiced bun and all the good things in life. Trinidad, with her back to me, determined to head back to New York for a man who did not deserve or fit her.

“It’s okay, Orlando, last night…yeah, I wish things were different.”

But they were not.

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