“What?”
“Somebody took a video of us at the club the other night.”
His face falls, but his expression reads more guilty than surprised. “Yeah, some blog posted it.”
“You knew?”
“Yeah. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you stressing about it.”
Dr. Bernard stands. “Mr. Taylor, you don’t need to be in here right now.”
“I want him here," I snap. "Listen, it’s not what you think. We…it’s a thing we do.”
“A thing?” she says.
“It’s like…foreplay.”
She’s neither impressed nor amused.
“He doesn’t make me do it,” I insist. “In fact, I’m the one who makeshimdo it.”
Dr. Bernard’s disapproving gaze shifts to Ace.
“It’s true,” he says. “There’s no abuse. Just us matching each other’s freak.”
“I see.” She swallows hard, adjusting her glasses further up her nose. “Well, I wish that was reassuring, but it’s not.”
“This is embarrassing,” Ace says. “I understand why it looks off from the outside looking in, but it’s our thing.”
The appointment kinda limps to an end after that. Dr. Bernard gives me a packet of information and sends me on my way, and I feel like I just got caught fucking by my grandmother or something.
We’re silent until we get to the car.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” I finally say.
“Don’t worry about it, babe. It’ll blow over.”
“Nope. I can’t have people out there thinking you abuse me. Fuck that.”
“Raya. Just leave it alone.”
“I said no.” I reach for his hand. “I love you too much to let you be judged and humiliated by people who don’t know shit about you.”
“So what do you want me to do about it?”
“Oh, you don’t have to do a thing but stay black and fine, my love. I’ma handle it.”
36
Raya
I have my phone propped in its usual spot. My ring light is on. Pulse is steady. But my makeup's already done tonight. Because this live isn't about a beat face.
The little red circle pulses.
LIVE
Three seconds in and there are already a few hundred people watching. The comments move faster than I can read them, but I don't give a fuck about none of what they're saying. I have a point to make, and then I'm out.
