“I know. I did too.”
“No, you motherfu—this isn’t my suit! I was borrowing it! I just came on another man’s suit! Do you know what he’s going to do to me? You don’t ever jizz on a suit you borrowed. Ever. Especially a black man’s suit!”
There was a beat of silence before he burst out laughing.
I was gobsmacked. “It’s not funny!”
“That’s what you’re worried about?”
“Flavius is going to murder me!”
That set him off even more. “Who the fuck is Flavius?”
“The guy who did my hair and who I’m going to have to explain that I just masturbated at my workplace with my boss!”
He laughed harder.
I scowled. “That’s it. This is over. Whatever this is, it’s already dead, and I’m over it.”
“Liar.”
“Watch it, Olsen,” I warned him. “My hand is sticky, and my dick won’t go back in my pants yet without ripping the fabric. I’m not in the mood.”
He managed to regain control, though I could still hear him chuckling. We didn’t speak for a while, and that let the reality of the situation sink back in. We had just fucked up. Big-time.
Finally I asked, “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But I do know that I want this. With you. If you’ll have me.”
“I’m not….” I closed my eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
I felt a little helpless. “I’m not—it’s not always going to be like this. With me. It’s not—” Why the hell was this so hard? “I’m not always… me.”
I thought he understood. “You’re Corey.”
“Yeah. But I’m also the other Kori. Two halves of a whole.”
He was quiet for a moment. Then, “I like both parts just the same. In fact, I like pretty much everything about you. Quite a lot, actually.”
Of course he was a smooth motherfucker. I needed it to all be on the table. It helped that there was a door between us. “It’s… the sex stuff. I like it when I’m a guy. But not… not always when I’m a woman.”
“Okay.”
I blinked and looked up at the window above us. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“It can’t be that easy.”
“Why not?”
I sighed irritably. “Because it can’t. There’s more to it than that. You have to—”
“Corey.”
“What?”