Page 51 of Score
“Wait a minute.” He grabs my elbow and drags me back in, pushes me to my knees. “Been leading me on all night. I’m at least getting my dick sucked.”
“If I scream,” I warn, “there are enough people in there that somebody’s coming.”
He drops my arm like he just found out I have leprosy.
“Something’s wrong with you,” he says, rushing out of the stall.
The only sound in the quiet restroom is theswooshas the door swingsclosed behind Carl. Sitting on my heels, I droop against the wall, as close to tired as I’ve been all night. For days I’ve been in constant motion and seeking ways to expend this unrelenting energy. It still feels like something is buzzing under my skin; like rocket fuel is burning through my veins, but that look on Monk’s face—a dulling of his eyes, disillusionment, pain—is the only thing that has slowed me down. There is a part of me that knows this is urgent, that I should be racing to beg his forgiveness. That I could lose him for good, but I can’t remember why that is important when the world is still soaliveand waiting for me.
I grab my purse and rush back into the dining room, scanning the area for the group of guys who encircled me all night. They’re gone. Maybe Carl warned them they weren’t getting what they thought I was promising. Whatever drove them away, it’s their loss. I spot a new group of people by the pool table. I can’t face Monk, not yet. I’ll give him a few hours to calm down. For now, time to make new friends. I saunter over to them, my steps light and my heart lifting the closer I draw to their laughing circle.
“Hi! I’m Verity,” I say, sweeping the group with a bright smile. “Drinks on me!”
FIFTEEN
Monk
I should never have let this apartment start feeling likeour placebecause now that she won’t be back, it will feel abandoned. Like something,someonewill be missing.
She hasn’t come.
She hasn’t called.
It’s two o’clock in the damn morning and not a peep from her.
I bought her lies. I trusted her.
Falling for that beautiful face and that fat ass and those dark soulful eyes—that was my fault. I should have known better, but I know now. And I never want to see her again.
So why have you been sitting on this couch watching the door for the last four hours?
I run an anxious hand over the back of my neck. I was so furious, I tore out of Top Dog and didn’t look back, but now worry gnaws at my nerves. Kissing some man in a stall, she didn’t exactly look like she was in trouble, butisshe safe? What if that guy… what if she…
“Shit.” I squeeze the bridge of my nose, hating that even now, I’m still concerned about her. With rage burning through every rational thought, I still fucking care.
Lost in the tumult of my own mind, I’m unprepared when her key finally turns in the lock. The door squeaks open by inches, like she’s trying to be quiet and doesn’t want to wake me up. Like a nigga could sleep with this shit unsettled.
As soon as she’s inside, our eyes meet. She has the decency not to speak. She folds her hands behind her back and leans against the door. We stareat each other until the silence screams all the things we can’t or won’t articulate.
“You got nothing to say?” I ask, my voice scratched through with rage and judgment.
“I…” She stops, gaze falling to the floor and starts again. “I know it looked bad.”
Incredulous laughter rolls out of me and shakes my shoulders, steals the breath from my lungs. I stand because my legs have just about fallen asleep sitting on this damn couch waiting for her to come and say…this?
“Which part do you think looked bad, Vee?” I tilt my head to study her. “His hand up your dress, on your ass? Your tits all out with some stranger in the bathroom like you were ’bout to get fucked up against a wall? Was that the bad part? Am I missing anything?”
“When I came to the studio earlier, I needed… I wanted—”
“So this my fault? Because you show up to my job wearing”—I sweep a hand in her direction and up and down her scantily clad body—“this shit, get on the floor, and pull my dick out, my clients not ten feet away. I was supposed to drop everything and fuck you?”
“I didn’t say—”
“And since I didn’t, you decided to take matters into your own hands and go fuck some guy in a bar? That’s all this meant to you?”
“Monk, no.” She crosses the room and stands in front of me. “This meant… itmeans… everything to me.”
“Don’t give me that shit.” I shake my head and step back, putting a few much-needed feet between us because she smells like cheap beer and some other dude’s cologne, but I’m still weak enough to want her. “I told you from the beginning. I said be sure. Be sure it can be just me.”
