Page 19 of Score
“Verity,” he cuts in, silencing the stream of words I couldn’t seem to figure out how to stop. “It’s not Petra I’m worried about.”
With a gentle hand, he pushes the riotous curls out of my eyes and rests his palm against the curve of my neck.
“I know she doesn’t mind sharing you,” he says, his gaze steady and hot. “But I don’t think I could.”
He cups my face in both hands and leans down to place a lingering kiss on my forehead. I reach up to grab his wrists, to hold him here. He steps back until my hands fall away and he walks out without another word.
I hover at the door, shivering in Petra’s robe and in the coolness of his absence, his unspoken goodbye suspended in the air. I’m not sure how long I stand there in the entrance, my thoughts tracing a labyrinth in my mind, but dawn lights the sky a smudgy violet by the time Petra emerges from the bedroom in her boy-short underwear and tight white ribbed tank top, a peacock pattern scarf covering her locs.
“Monk left?” she asks, her voice morning-husked. She chafes her arms and her tiny nipples pebble in the cool air.
“Yeah, a few minutes ago.” I meet her in the middle of the room, familiar affection pushing to the surface when she pulls me into a hug.
“Did you enjoy it?” She kisses the top of my head and runs a hand down my spine to squeeze my ass.
I nod and press closer, my body searching for something between us Ihope we didn’t lose last night. Being with Monk caused a ripple, a wrinkle in my fabric, but I wonder if what the three of us did changed something with Petra and me, too.
“Why did you do that?” I rest my hand at her waist and glance up to catch her gaze. “Why him?”
For a moment, she doesn’t answer, just strokes my back and smiles a little, though her eyes remain sober.
“Because I could see you wanted him,” she finally replies, “and I knew you’d never ask.”
Guilt coils low in my belly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I don’t bother denying that I wanted him because Petra and I know each other too well for lies.
“If this relationship is truly open,” she says, “it should go both ways. I never deny myself, and you don’t give me shit about it. I wanted the same for you.”
I let that sink in, unsure how I feel about all of it, about any of it.
“Keeping communication open is why this works,” Petra continues. “You’ll let me know when it doesn’t work for you anymore, okay? When this ends, I want us to still be friends.”
One day, sooner or later, one of us will walk away. Petra may seem carefree, but she’s incredibly focused on school and never takes her eye off the ultimate goal of becoming a doctor. What we have doesn’t feel like forever, but I care about Petra and she cares about me. It’s the best sex I’ve ever had and I’ve learned so much about myself taking the risk of stepping beyond what I thought a relationship had to be. When this part ends, I will still want her friendship.
“Right now,” I say, sliding a hand under her tank top and over the warm skin of her back, “we’re good.”
“Then let’s go back to bed. I have a test this week and need to study all day. At least I can sleep in for a little while with my girl.”
I drop her robe at the foot of the bed and climb under the covers, naked. Petra tangles her legs with mine and hooks her arm around my waist. Within minutes her breath has evened out into sleep again. I’mtired, but can’t find rest. My mind, my heart, races from the memory of last night. The memory ofhim. The sheets have cooled, but they smell of sex and fresh linen and us. Burying my face in the pillow, I inhale, recognizing my perfume and Petra’s bodywash. I press my nose into the softness and fall asleep still searching for the scent of him.
FOUR
Monk
November
“We need you here, man.”
“Yeah, I know.” I press the phone to my ear and glance up the street before crossing. If I’m lucky, I can make it through this call without getting run over. “I told you I’ll be there by ten. I got this thing on campus for my Af-Am art class. I have to go see this sculpture exhibit, get credit, and I’m out.”
“You taking art, nigga?” Mazey, the producer I’m playing for in tonight’s session, sounds amused.
“Shut up.” I chuckle and pull my coat collar up around my ears against the autumn chill. “It’s the last elective I need for graduation.”
“Well, thanks for stepping in at the last minute on this session. I been wanting to get you on a project for a minute.”
“’Preciate it.” I enter Finley’s fine arts building and follow signs for the exhibit hall. “Look, I’m here. I gotta go.”
