nostrils. Angie Black is the red flag I can’t get out of my head. How dare she use a panel on such important issues to create drama? And to bring Bristol into it, to call her name and imply that I’m embarrassed to be with her. My jaws hurts, my teeth are locked so tightly together.
“About what happened out there—”
“You mean the ambush?” I snap.
“Yeah. I didn’t know anything about it.”
“Really?” A scoffing gush of air rushes past my lips. “You expect me to believe that? Don’t give me that shit, Q.”
“Who you think you talking to?” The goodwill on Qwest’s face gives way to irritation. “You better act like you got some sense talking to me.”
“So, it’s just coincidence that we ended up on this panel together? You’re asking me to believe you didn’t know things would go left like that?”
“I don’t care what you believe.” Qwest’s anger clashes with mine in the tight space. “My cousin was snatched when we were twelve years old. There were no TV cameras, no vigils, no magazine covers for months wondering what happened to her. She was just gone, and we never saw her again, never got answers. That’s why I’m here, not for your conceited ass.”
Real pain etches itself onto her face, and regret pinches in my chest.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have questioned your motives.” I blow out a frustrated breath and drag my hand over my jaw. “That was just some sideways shit I didn’t see coming, and this was not the time or the place for her to pull that.”
Qwest nods, something close to sympathy filling her dark eyes. Finally, we sigh in sync, each of us letting go of our anger at the same time.
“I swear I didn’t know,” Qwest says, her voice softer. “What Angie did out there, it wasn’t cool, and I’m sorry she went out like that.”
I tilt my head back to study the ceiling for a second before looking back to Qwest.
“And I’m sorry if I took any of this out on you.” I lean against the wall, bending my knee and propping my foot there. “I’m just tired of this. What does me wanting to spend the rest of my life with Bristol have to do with me wanting things to improve? Wanting better for our community?”
Surprise and then something that resembles hurt flits through Qwest’s eyes before she drops them to the cheap corridor carpet.
“The rest of your life?” She forces a laugh. “So it’s like that?”
Dammit. I’m so Bristol’s, sometimes I forget I was ever anyone else’s. In this moment, I definitely forgot Qwest ever felt she had any claim on me.
“I’m sorry.” I scrub the back of my neck. “I didn’t think—”
“That I still had feelings for you?” Her mocking smile is turned inside out. “You’re a hard man to get over.”
A sheet of ice falls over Qwest’s face.
“But I have,” she says. “I’ll admit, seeing you again . . .” She rolls a lusty look from my head to my Jordans. “You could still get it.”
She tips her head up to meet my eyes, a question there, one I hope she doesn’t voice.
“Qwest, come on,” I say, clearing my throat of awkwardness. “You know I’m with somebody else.”
“I bet she don’t give it to you like I did,” she says, all sass and bravado.
Actually, she does, but I choose not to make things worse by saying so. I just watch her, keeping my face indifferent.
“Let’s not do this.” I push off the wall, intending to step around her, but she pushes me back, leaving her hand in the center of my chest. It feels wrong to have someone else touch me, but I tamp down my unease and leave it there for now. I still feel guilty about the way I dragged her into the complex web of my relationship with Bristol. I hate that I hurt her before, and I want to handle her more carefully than I did in the past. I’ll leave her hand there and leave our eyes connected until she says what she needs to say.
“If I had long, silky hair,” Qwest says, bitterness tingeing her voice, “and gray eyes and a pretty golden tan, would you want me then?”
Damn.
“It has nothing to do with that, with those things, Qwest.” I place my hand over hers, hoping the contact offers her some comfort. “Am I attracted to Bris? Of course, but I’ve been attracted to a lot of women.”
“You were attracted to me.” Boldness