Page 5 of Score
How else do you explain a man who looks like that—his face a landscape of sculpted bones and slumberous eyes and a mouth made for sin—but who plays the piano like God Himself anointed those hands?
“If I were into guys,” my girlfriend, Petra, says, stealing my margarita and taking a sip, “I’d hit that.”
I laugh a little breathlessly, accepting my drink when she passes it back to me, and letting my eyes drift to the stage. In the dimness of the club, the brightest thing in the whole room is the pool of light cast over Wright, gilding him in shades of copper and dark gold. Leanly muscled, he has wide shoulders and a strong chest. The tapered elegance of his fingers moving deftly across the piano comes as a surprise—a touch so light it seems to barely skim the keys.
Is that how he touches a lover?
“I heard he was some kind of prodigy as a kid,” our friend Ezekiel whispers, jarring me from my wandering thoughts. “Now they say he’s the best musician to come through here in decades.”
I pull my glance from the stage and give Ezekiel my full attention. “He attends Finley?”
“Yeah, a senior,” Petra says, stealing a French fry from my plate. “But he’s already got early acceptance into Juilliard’s grad program.”
“Okay, Miss I Ain’t Hungry.” I slap her hand playfully, but then feed her another fry dripping with ketchup.
“Iwasn’thungry.” Petra grins and chews. “Till I saw your plate. You make everything look better. Especially that dress you rocking tonight. Damn, baby.”
Her eyes hungrily rake my breasts, fully covered with deceptive modesty since I’m not wearing a bra, and my nipples pique through the thin silk of my dress in the club’s air-conditioning.
“Can’t wait to get you home,” she says, her doe-brown eyes heating.
“I’mma hold you to it.” I nod to the margarita she’s sipping on, her third. “You know how you get after a few of those. Watch. I’ll be putting your ass to bed and you’ll be all talk.”
“Oh, I’ll stay up for you,” she says, leaning in and nibbling my ear.
“We still partying at your place tomorrow?” Gillian, Ezekiel’s girlfriend, asks, eyeing Petra over the rim of her martini.
“I’m down.” Petra grabs another fry and looks at me. “You want to, baby?”
“Why not?” I shrug and laugh without humor. “Not like I have a project due Monday or anything.”
“Still having trouble with the screenplay?” Ezekiel asks.
“Understatement.” I blow out a frustrated breath. “I thought I had it, but then all my inspiration dried up and I’m back to square one.”
“Bet I can inspire you,” Petra whispers in my ear, her hand under the table sliding over my knee and brushing inside my thigh.
My breath hitches and I turn to capture her lips in a light kiss. Everything with Petra is light. We both prefer it that way for now. She’s the best lover I’ve ever had. Not that I’ve had many, but of the guys and girls I’ve let this close, she’s topped them all.
“You two are disgustingly sweet,” Ezekiel complains with a grin that turns salacious. “Let me know when we can get in on all that sugar.”
Petra slants a look at me that holds a question. It’s not the first time Ezekiel and Gillian have hinted they’d like to swap or do a threesome, foursome…some-some. Petra doesn’t do monogamy. I knew that from thebeginning. She was one of the first people I met when I transferred to Finley at the start of the semester two months ago. The attraction was instant, and it only took her a week to get me in her bed, which quickly became a regular occurrence. When we decided to take it beyond just fucking, she immediately clarified she still didn’t want monogamy, and I said I understood. The first time I showed up unannounced, though, and passed a girl from my psych class leaving Petra’s apartment with a ring of fresh hickeys on her neck, I cried. We decided then to discuss other partners and agree before we slept with someone else. That helped ease me into an arrangement I’d never thought I would allow, much less enjoy. College is where you figure a lot of things out about yourself, and I’m not sure I’ll always want an open relationship, but for now, this one suits me. In our time together, I’ve never been tempted to try a threesome, though.
Gillian and Ezekiel aren’t changing my mind.
When I give a tiny shake of my head to Petra’s unspoken question, she chuckles and squeezes my knee.
Onstage, Wright Bellamy shifts into a jazz number and we, like the rest of the room, fall silent. When I study my friends, their expressions are as rapt as everyone else’s. Wright pours the song out like honey, dripping, clinging to the air, ensorcelling the crowd until the last note.
“So you guys know him?” I ask, dragging my eyes from the stage and back to the table as the crowd applauds.
Petra pauses, one of my fries poised at her lips, her gaze speculative. “Yeah. Finley’s not a big college. I met him when we were freshmen, so I’ve known him four years, though we don’t see each other much anymore. All the girls were losing their minds over him soon as he hit the campus.”
If he was anywhere near as fine then as he is now, I can see why.
“Notallthe girls,” I tease, brushing that thought aside to lean over and settle my mouth over hers.
“Well, the ones who like dick.” She smiles into our kiss. “Not me, no.”
