Page 31

Rebecca's importance in my life remained the only constant in the near-seventeen years that she'd been a part of it. She lifted me up from the pits of foster care and my own personal hell, to provide me with safety and love. If it wasn't for her, I would be nothing.

Or a drug addict in jail with my mother.

I spent the rest of the day sorting work files while my computer processed the reports I set it to track before heading out to Samirah's. She opened the door at the first knock when I headed there after a quick stop home. Her smile, coupled with her pretty silk top, lifted my spirits even higher. She kissed my cheek when we hugged and I set my bag down by the front door. Savory scents met my nose and I glanced to the kitchen where she had something cooking on the stove, and ingredients laid out on the counter top.

"Hi," I said, sounding way more breathless than I intended.

"Hello. You smell delicious," she said, tucking my hair behind her ear. "I really like your perfume."

"Thanks." My face heated as usual. "Rebecca gave it to me for my birthday. I don't even know what it is. Versace something."

"Well, it's definitely you."

"I brought some pastries." I held up the white box with a pink stamp on top.

"A woman of my own heart." She accepted the box and sighed dramatically. "I've been craving sweets."

I chuckled and followed her to the kitchen to store the desserts in the fridge. "You have less boxes." I pointed at the empty walkway by the stairs.

"I'm off this week to transition so I've put some stuff away. I found my underwear this morning, thankfully, because I was running out."

I chuckled and shook my head, then paused beside the island counter. "You cooked?"

"Simple stuff. Just tacos. I was craving them, too." Her hand fell to the small of my back before I sat on a stool at the counter. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Um...anything. What goes with tacos?" In front of me, all the fixings for a perfect taco night sprawled across the table. Cheese, sour cream, veggies and olives, and most importantly, both hard and soft shells.

"A giant glass of soda with ice." Her laughter set off mine and I nodded.

"Truth. You can always splash some rum in it and call it a night."

"Oh, I would, too. The night will be called with me passed out topless on the carpet," she said, cracking up as she pulled two glass bottles out of the fridge. Her hair, thick and long, touched the waist of her pants. I admired its shine, and the way it cradled her heart-shaped face when she turned back to me.

"I wouldn't complain about that," I said, snickering at her cute laugh.

"I mean, you might complain about the puke though." She popped the caps with a bottle opener and handed me one. "Sure you don't want wine?"

"I'm good to start with this. We can end with wine," I suggested and she winked at me. It set off a series of flutters in my stomach while I watched her lift the lid of the crock pot.

"Chicken tacos are my favorite," she said. "I hope that's okay."

"I eat everything. It's totally okay. Thank you for cooking. I didn't expect that."

"It makes me happy to cook for someone else." She set two plates down beside the utensils and we tucked in to dinner.

"I don't cook often," I told her. "Simple things like pasta or chicken are my mains."

"I'm not much different. Normally, I just eat at the cafeteria at work." She pointed to the shells. "Hard or soft?"

"Both of course." I chuckled and she handed me one of each. "What movie did you pick out?"

"Tell It to the Bees. Heard of it?"

I shook my head while fixing up a soft shell taco first. Chicken, cheese, and sour cream preceded the veggies. "I haven't. Is it an indie film?"

"It is. From 2018 so it's a few years old. Historical lesbian romance. What do you think of that?"

"I think I'll enjoy it. I pretty much only watch or read lesbian fiction. Anything with a straight romance doesn't sit well with me. Especially if it's one of those corny Hallmark or Lifetime movies that only show a little kissing every now and then." I found myself talking freely in Samirah's presence, and part of me couldn't understand what she'd done to lower my inhibitions so much. Only Alex or Ainsley heard this much chatter from me.