“Couldn’t resist. Things going well out there?”
“Yeah. He didn’t have much time. He’s headed to rehearse for Fallon right after lunch.”
“So you two still pretending to be just friends?”
“Pretty much.” I’ve stopped denying it. We
are
more than friends, and I have to figure out what I’m going to do about it.
“Would it really be so wrong to just do it? Just give it a shot with him?”
“Yes, wrong on so many levels.”
“Tell me more about these levels. Kai.”
“First of all, he’s a huge rock star for God’s sake. People will assume he got me where I’m going. I don’t need that. I want to earn this on my own and for there to be no doubt how I got there.”
San shrugs and turns his lips down in that way that always tells me he thinks I’m full of shit.
“That’s pretty flimsy to me, Kai, but if you say so.”
“It’s not flimsy. It’s true.”
“And the other level it’s so wrong on?”
“Well, for another thing he’s a huge rock star.”
“That sounds suspiciously like the first level.”
“Let me finish. He’s a great guy, but he
is
a rock star. He’s going on tour. Do you really think he can be faithful? Can be depended on? To stick? To stick around?”
San cocks his head to the left, studying me with a new understanding in his eyes. All of a sudden, I’m glad I still have the green goop on my face to hide behind.
“Just makes me wonder if we’re really talking about Rhyson.” He pauses, his eyes breaking it to me gently before he continues. “Or if this is actually about your dad.”
And with that parting shot, he turns on his heel and walks away.
I hate it when he knows me better than I know myself.
“NOW WHOSE PARTY IS THIS AGAIN?”
I’m just about to answer Kai’s question when she comes down the tiny hall of her tiny apartment wearing a tiny top and jeans that cling to the luscious curve of her hips and ass.
“Uh . . .” What was the question?
“The party?” Kai prods me with raised brows. “Whose birthday party is it and am I dressed okay?”
She’s wearing makeup, which I haven’t seen much. Smoky eye shadow exaggerates the tilt of her almost-black eyes. Her lips are lush and nude colored. The dark hair I can barely keep my hands out of on the best of days rolls past her shoulders in a dark, straight, shiny curtain. Her bright-red top falls well below her breasts, but still leaves the subtle, sexy pack of tight abdominal muscles on display. When she moves just the right way, I can see the small script tattoo curving under her breast and over her delicate rib cage. I want to make her move in just the right way all night.
“Yeah, the party.” Think using the
other
head. “It’s my friend, Jimmi’s, birthday party.”
“Jimmi as in Jimmi Dawson? The singer?” Kai’s dark brows jerk together, and she looks down at what she’s wearing. “Is this, like, a big deal party?”
“No, it’s super casual. Look at what I’m wearing.”
I know it’s different for guys, but my dark wash jeans and Bob Marley hoodie should reassure her that this isn’t exactly a red-carpet event.
“Okay.” She grabs her keys from the hook on the wall. “I’m ready.”
I’m not. I just got back from New York yesterday, and today is the first time I’ve seen her since we rode dune buggies at Pismo Beach. I’d rather stay here and endure another season of
Sex and the City
than share her company with other people. But Jimmi will castrate me if I don’t show. She still might. I’m not great at hiding my attraction for Kai. Jimmi will spot that shit right away. Considering the last
real
conversation we had was me telling Jimmi we should just forget we slept together, she might not be happy that I’m showing up with another girl at her birthday party.
But that was
months
ago.
I ignore Marlon’s voice in my head telling me I’m a delusional idiot and head out. Jimmi loves to bowl, so Pins & Needles is the perfect place for her party. It’s got a ton of lanes, a great bar, and a tattoo studio in the back.
“I’m gonna park in the back lot.” I turn to Kai, struggling not to notice the way her seatbelt slices between her breasts. Am I thirteen again?
“Okay.”
“It’s not a big party or anything, but there are several celebrities here.” I open my door, walking fast around the front of the Cayenne to open hers before she can do it herself. “And there’s always some pap lurking. I just don’t want you caught up in that.”
“Believe me, neither do I.”
She laughs up at me, and I want to hold her hand. To stake that claim before we walk into this party with all these guys who will find it just as hard as I do not to stare at Kai. But she tucks both hands into her back pockets and walks beside me, eyes fixed on her silver sequined Converse with their wedge heels. How she walks in them, I have no idea, but they’re kind of adorable.
As soon as we walk in, people stick to me like flies to fly paper. Where was all this attention in high school, when I was an awkward sixteen-year-old who had never been to a school dance? Who’d only ever had private tutors and barely knew one song on the radio? The guy who had been kissed by one girl in his whole life and almost threw up the first day of tenth grade? That guy would have loved the attention. This me now, not so much.
I keep my circle small, but Jimmi has friends, acquaintances, associates, frenemies, and they’re all here. I immediately want to drag Kai back out to the car. This is much more public and much less private than I thought it would be. I don’t even have names for half the faces crowding around me. Fame is such a charade. These people all think they know me because, what? We attend the same parties? Move in the same circles? Drive the same cars? Fuck the same people? Sometimes my life nauseates me, and I just want to hibernate in the studio under my piano, make music, and play Madden all day.
“Introduce us, Rhys.” Some short guy with blond hair and, if I remember correctly, one Grammy nom to his name, runs his beady eyes up and down Kai’s body. She inches imperceptibly closer to me. Good girl.
“I would introduce you, man, but I honestly don’t remember your name.”
So I become an asshole at these things.
Kai’s smothered laugh as the guy turns and stalks off makes me feel better about myself. She leans up to whisper in my ear, and her hand burns a slender hole in my arm where she touches me.
“That was rude.” I feel her lips curved into a grin against my ear, so I think she approves.
With one hand claiming the curve of her back, I lean down to whisper to her, hoping the six or so people still standing around take the hint that I have no interest in talking to them.
“I was just being honest.” I press my nose into her hair. Damn, she always smells so good. “I have no idea who that guy was. I don’t know these other people either.”
She pulls back so our eyes can share the inside joke.
“Then who
do
you know?”
I’m just about to tell her when someone grabs my shoulder and forces me to turn around. I suppress the string of curses I was ready to unleash when I see the girl I am actually here for.
“Jimmi.” My face softens and my shoulders relax as we hug. I really hope we can get past that drunken lay on the Fourth of July because Jim’s one of my best friends. “Happy birthday, baby doll. Quite the crowd you got here.”
“I’m glad you came.” Her blue eyes smile back at me, and I think we’ll be fine. Then her eyes go hard and her smile disappears when she notices Kai standing closer to me than anyone is usually allowed at these parties. “And who’s this?”
Here goes.
“Jim, this is my friend, Kai.” For once, I’m glad Kai froze us in the outer reaches of friendship. “Kai, this is the birthday girl, Jimmi Dawson.”
“Nice to meet you.” Kai steps forward and offers a friendly smile. When Jimmi doesn’t respond right away, Kai’s smile disappears little by little. She bites her bottom lip and stares back at Jimmi.
“Nice to meet you, too.” Finally Jimmi speaks, toggling her eyes speculatively between Kai and me. “Rhyson hasn’t mentioned you before. He doesn’t usually bring . . . friends around.”
“We haven’t known each other that long.” Kai gives me a quick glance and smile.
“Yeah, Kai’s one of Grady’s students.” I hope that mollifies Jimmi some, but I see a bad light bulb go off and realize I should have kept my mouth shut.
“Ah, a singer.” Jimmi squeezes her lips into a tight smile and flicks her brown-when-we-first-met-currently-red hair over one shoulder. “I see.”
“And a dancer too,” I add.
Kai smiles stiffly, her discomfort obvious.
“Oh, a
dancer
.” Jimmi’s face lights up and she starts looking around the room. “I have someone you just have to meet. The choreographer from my last video. He’s so good he even made me look like I could dance.”
That was a small miracle because Jim’s about as coordinated as I am. She waves over this . . . guy. I dislike him on sight. It’s not the fact that he’s tall and ripped. That he has caramel skin and bleached platinum blonde hair buzzed close to his head. I can’t tell what ethnicity this guy is, but I know that all girls would like him. It’s none of that. What I dislike immediately is how he’s looking at Kai.
“Dub, I wanted to introduce you to someone,” Jimmi just about purrs, searching my face for a response. “You know Rhyson, don’t you?”
“We’ve never met, but I love your music,” Dub says with an Irish lilt to his voice. One more reason to dislike him. He extends his fist for me to pound.
I pound reluctantly.
“And this,” Jimmi pulls Kai over to Dub. “Is Rhyson’s friend, Kai. She’s a dancer.”
His green-grey eyes light up as they follow the lines and swells of Kai’s petite frame.
“Cool.” He takes Kai’s hand and smiles right into her eyes. “I’d love to see what you got.”
Kai’s cheeks go rosy, and she shifts her weight from one sequined Converse to the other.
“Jimmi got a sick DJ,” Dub says, still holding Kai’s damn hand. “We’re battling in a little bit.”
“Battling?” I don’t like the sound of that.
“It’s not violent, Rhys.” Jimmi laughs at me. “You should see your face! It’s like when dancers go back and forth . . . dancing.”
“I know what battling is, Jim.”
Well, now I know.
Pitbull’s voice comes over the sound system, and then Ne-Yo joins in. Kai’s probably not even aware that her shoulders have started moving, but I am. And so is Dub.
“Wanna dance?” Dub gestures toward a section of the room cleared of tables and chairs. A group of people have started dancing in ways I’d never attempt.
Kai turns wide eyes in my direction and drops Dub’s hand. Is she
just now
figuring out that he’s pushing up on her? Oblivious.
“Don’t worry about Rhyson.” Jimmi pats Kai’s shoulder with a reassuring hand. “He and I have a few things to talk about anyway.”
Kai’s tiny frown silently asks me if it’s okay.
“It’s fine.” I shrug like I don’t care when I actually want to dislocate Dub’s shoulder. “Have fun. I’ll be here.”
She looks between Jimmi and me for a few seconds before nodding at Dub and walking off. I follow Jimmi to a booth facing the bowling alley, making sure not to look back over my shoulder to check on Kai. Jimmi’s a sharp-eyed cat. First sign that I care more about Kai than she thinks I should, and Kai is on her list. If she’s not already simply for being here with me. I’ve never brought a girl to things like this, so if I want Jimmi to think Kai’s just a friend, I need to leash the wild animal that wants to go drag her off the dance floor.
“You happy now?” I force myself to grin instead of grind my teeth to dust while Kai’s with Dub.
Jimmi takes a sip of her chocolate martini and smiles, eyes narrowed on my face like she’s still searching for clues.
“What better way to see what she means to you than to give her to someone else?”
“You could’ve just asked.”
“Oh, but people say things they don’t mean all the time.” Her face sobers, her smile disintegrating. “Like the night we hooked up. I’m sure you said some things you didn’t mean, right?”
Aw, hell.
“Jim, we were both a little drunk that night.”