“Meh take off once I know yuh inside.” He nudges me toward the building and I stumble forward, glancing back at his fake smile. I hold the fob up to the silver box and the door clinks just like he said it would.
I look back again, and he’s already closing himself back into the truck, so I slip inside the building.
When I make it up to Ace’s, it’s quiet inside. Cree’s not stomping around in heels and Dough isn’t blasting. There’s the quietest thump from Janet playing. His curtains dust against the hardwood floors because the balcony door is open wide enough for gusts of wind to sneak in.
The first days of fall in Texas never actually feel like fall, but this one does. It feels like Ace’s lips against mine. When I see the back of his head resting against a chaise on his balcony, the tightness that’s lurking in my shoulders from the trip upstairs disappears. I forget about the quiet ride with Gus and drop my backpack and the fob in the entryway.
The wind keeps sweeping his scent inside, so I follow it all the way to the french doors until I find him. His long arms rest against the back of the chaise and there’s a glass curled in his hand. Suddenly, I remember how much I love the first days of fall in Texas.
“That’s you, kid?” he rumbles, making my stomach jump.
“Yeah...”
He takes a long sip from the glass and my body tries to calm itself from the hot anticipation of finding my way back to him.
“You take care of the house?” he asks.
I nod until I remember he can’t see me. “Ye—yeah. I cleaned up.”
“And Mom? Who there with her?”
“Marcus. He said he’ll sit with her for a minute.”
He lets out a faint chuckle.
“Gus take care of you?”
“Yeah, Ason. He did. He wasn’t driving crazy.”
“Good...”
“Ason?”
“Yeah?”
“Why’d you want me to have that key?”
“I ain’t never heard of somebody that got a home, but no key to it. You don’t want a key to me?”
It’s a tricky ass question in true Ace fashion.
“No—yes. I—I want a key to you,” I stutter out.
“That’s what I figured. Now come here.” He waves his hand that’s clutching the glass. “I guess I can let you be grown sometimes.”
I smile.
It’s not one of those weird half-smile half-frowns. Those don’t exist anymore. The only ones I know now are the kind that hurt good and make me question my sanity. I smilebiguntil I round the corner of the chaise and catch the setting sun glaring against his wet face and bloodshot eyes.
“Ason?” I choke out.
It’s the first time I realize that men I hate and like give me something worse than hives. They give me deep, heart-pounding, gasping for air, fucked up panic attacks because I’m stupid enough to think I can fix everything that’s wrong with them.
He doesn’t even reach out to swipe the tears from his face, so they keep falling in fat, angry streaks. All I hear is Marcus telling me to tell him to take it easy today and Gus sucking his teeth while shoving his key toward me. They all know what’s wrong but me.
“Why you over there?” he mumbles. “Come let me have you.”
It’s another question that’s not a question anymore, but I don’t care. I walk over to the chaise and throw my legs over his lap so I can obsess over the tears rolling down his cheeks. My sandals slide down my feet while I swipe my hand across his face, but they’re moving too fast.
