Page 84 of Sing Your Secrets
“Then, let’s have it. Sit down.” I grab a glass from the cabinet and pour a drink for Miles. I seriously doubt he likes pink bubbly wine, but the man needs something to chill the fuck out at the moment. “Here, baby,” I say, handing him the glass. He relaxes onto the couch and I plop down next to him, draping my calves over his lap. “So, why do you think I’m a two-timing whore?”
“Wow.” He takes a sip of the wine, the color in his face returning. “I definitely did not call you that.”
“Miles, get to the point.”
“Guess who the mystery buyer is?”
Of course. I roll my eyes so hard that they may not descend from the back of my skull. “Wild guess—Petey?”
“Yes. I met him this afternoon, and I spent most of the meeting in awe that I got to have a conversation with my favorite rapper. Everything was going great until he told me he was trying to work with your dad again.”
“Why would you think that means I cheated on you?”
“He showed me that heart on the wall of the break room with the initials.” Oh shit. “He’s PM?”
“That was a long time ago…I was seventeen.”
“He said you were his girl.” He finishes off the glass of wine, dramatically tipping the bottom of the glass to the ceiling so he can guzzle down every last drop.
“You like rosé?”
“Not at all,” he grumbles.
I laugh. “Want another?”
“Not right now,” he says, placing his big palm just north of my knee.
“Miles, I have no idea why he said that. I was his girl back then, but I’m definitely not anymore. In fact, he’s engaged to someone else.”
Miles cocks his head and raises one eyebrow, nonverbally asking me how I know that.
“Petey came to see me at my apartment on Friday. He left his record label and he wants to work on another album with Dad. He gave me those”—I point over my shoulder at the clear vase that’s holding my purple tulips that are now in full bloom—“as an apology for being so careless with my heart and dragging me through hell for the last few years of our relationship. Hence the reason Petey and I are not together and never will be again. But he seems to be in a better place these days, and he says he’s trying to make amends. If you want the truth, I feel like he wants peace with me just to get in good with my dad.”
“How long were you guys together?”
“That’s complicated,” I say, rubbing my fingers over the back of my hand. “You want the highlights or the whole story?”
“Reese, when it comes to you—I want everything.” I look at Miles and see a man worth being honest with. Inhaling a deep breath, I decide to spill all the secrets I’ve tried to hold so close to my heart.
“Hang tight.” Swinging my legs around, I pop off the couch and make my way to the top right of my media rack. I return to Miles, resuming my position, after handing him a plain CD case with Depth written in black sharpie on the front. “I co-wrote this. This is the only copy where you’ll hear me sing.”
“You co-wrote Depth?” Miles holds the CD in his palm, pretending to weigh it in the air like it’s heavy. “How come you’re not credited?”
“I never asked. I didn’t understand royalties and rights or getting points for producing an album. It wasn’t that complex when we didn’t expect anything to come of it. We wrote the album for the heart of it. When I first met Petey, his biggest goal was to just be brave enough to put his words out into the world. Believe it or not, he’s really sensitive.” I watch Miles’s stoic expression as he hangs on my every word. “Petey’s mom disappeared on him when he was a teenager. He bounced around from friend’s couch to friend’s couch until he turned eighteen, but he didn’t have money for college. Flipping burgers didn’t make enough for him to get an apartment and afford to live. He was so hurt and lost.”
“That’s awful,” Miles says, shaking his head.
“It’s a big difference from having a mom so kind and caring that she wants her family to eat organic and learned to make kombucha for you guys.”
Miles’s stony expression softens. “My mom would love you.”
“Are you going to let me meet her?”
“Whenever you want.”
My cheeks flood with warmth like sunshine’s kissing my cheek. “The minute this album is done. When I meet her, I want to be able to say I’m your girlfriend.”
He squeezes my ankle. “You got it. So, explain this album to me.” He twists the CD in the air.