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Roseann starts playing, and at first, she’s a little stiff, but within seconds, the music is flowing much smoother than when I played the piece.
It took longer lockingup tonight because Wamba wasn’t there. I offered to drop him off at the airport, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Said he might like the time to stew as he drove the short distance to Lambert. I didn’t remind him he had the whole flight to stew over whatever was bothering him—maybe grief over letting go of his life’s work, on top of his grief over losing Clarice. Maybe he’s nervous about picking up his life and moving across the country. Maybe he’s not sure he can count on me to stick around. Maybe he worries I’ll buy The Hep Cat from him and turn around and sell the place, hoping for a profit.
I wouldn’t. But I can understand if Wamba worries about it.
On the drive to Skye’s apartment, I go out of my way to a grocery store and pick up some chocolate covered strawberries. Maybe she’s not too upset about me kissing her, because I haven’t heard from Chloe. If Skye were angry with me, she might have had Chloe on speed dial last night. Then again, I might have traumatized her, and she might be trying to put the whole thing out of her mind.
I didn’t, though. While I did kiss her without asking if I could, she knew what was coming. We were both in that moment together. She had every chance to turn away from me, and if she would have, I would’ve walked away, no harm, no foul. But she didn’t. Skylar Stafford kissed me back. She didn’t grind against me, but she didn’t shy away from the hard-on she had to feel pressed to her stomach.
I’ve been all over the country, and I’ve dabbled in affairs and flings. I’ve had elevator sex, and I’ve had threesomes while more girls watched. Alaina used to give me head when I played the piano.
But kissing Skye last night was different. Sweet. And I don’t mean sweet like innocent. I mean sweet like delicious and addictive, the taste I’m going to crave for a long time.
Skye’s fixing dinner when I walk in. Hair pinned up on the back of her head, shorts and a skimpy t-shirt on, she looks like a bombshell from a calendar you might find pinned up in a garage. Her cheeks are tinged with pink, but I don’t know if that’s from cooking or because she’s embarrassed about last night.
“Hey.”
Also new. While I’m not a big talker, it’s not because I don’t know what to say, but because I don’t want to talk. With Skye, I want to say a lot, but she puts me off my game.
“Hi.” She offers me a small, almost shy, smile. She’s got something sizzling in a Wok on the stovetop. That smile makes something inside me sizzle.
Since she hasn’t thrown anything at me, I approach her. Put my keys on the counter and set the grocery bag next to it.
“What’s that?”
“What’re you fixing?”
“Stir fry,” she tells me. “Want some?”
I do. It smells good, and I’m hungry, but mostly, I just want to hang out with her.
“Wine?” She picks up her glass and looks at me expectantly. Maybe I should say no. I wasn’t drunk last night, neither of us was drunk, but alcohol does lower your inhibitions, so it might have contributed to that kiss.
Kisses.
Not only did Skye kiss me back, it was more than one kiss. Not quite a make out session, but we were kissing. It was a thing. Not just a kiss that shouldn’t have happened.
“Sure.” I nod when I realize she’s still waiting for my answer.
The only thing the alcohol did was make me bold enough to get a taste of her.
“How was your day?” she asks as she pours a glass and hands it to me.
“Okay.” My mom would call that a fib. Harmless in the grand scheme of things. I can’t tell her I miscounted the cash tonight when I closed and had to do it again. That I messed up a piano lesson so much my student called me out on it. On Skye.
“What’d you get at the store?” She checks the contents of the skillet and then rests against the counter at her back.
Might as well get this over with.
I push the bag toward her but change my mind. Instead, I take the treat out of the bag and put it on the counter.
“For dessert?” she asks with an excited grin.
“Mmm.” I shrug and flinch. I could be a coward and go with that. But I have to apologize and put last night behind us. For her friendship with my sister, if nothing else.
“Gideon?” She tips her head and narrows her eyes at me.
“Look.” I fill my cheeks with air and blow it out with frustration. I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have kissed her.
