Her breasts press into my chest. Our bellies kiss. I push in as deep as I can, seeking out every secret her body would withhold. I must know it all. Her head jerks back, the velvety skin of her neck stretched and exposed. Her body’s spasms ricochet through me.
I don’t even try to squelch her screams. I don’t care if the paps outside hear it and record it and it goes viral. It’s
my
name, dammit, ripping a hole in the quiet.
My
name claiming the air around her. She’s my girl. And I am so completely fucking hers. Because all the while I’ve been claiming her, she’s been claiming me. Her hands gripping my ass, running over my chest, clutching my shoulders. With just touch, we’ve discovered a new intimacy. A path sprang up that no one but us can follow, taking us to a place that no one else can find. And there, with only our hearts as witnesses, our bodies make a vow that our souls will keep.
I’M NOT VERY GOOD AT FAKING
casual. From very early on, my pace was almost frenetic. Between shows and tours and lessons and special appearances, I got used to a kinetic lifestyle. It was only when I went to live with Grady that I learned to appreciate kicking it. Playing video games. Riding dune buggies. Surfing at the beach. Still sometimes, it doesn’t come naturally to me. Especially when I have a performance or an audition.
I haven’t had an audition in years, but Kai auditions for
Total Package
today. And pretending I don’t care is wearing my ass out. I’m on the couch in the rec room, reading some magazine. Some
GQ
shit that Marlon left the last time he was here, which should tip her off right away because me reading
GQ
? Like that’s happening. She’s too nervous to notice though. She shouldn’t be. They’ll want her. I know they will.
That first time I saw her teaching her dance class, saw the command she had of every movement, I knew she was a star. The night we sang together at her church in Glory Falls Baptist, and I heard that unique husky purity of her voice, I knew she was a star. And looking at her now, eyes smoky, lashes long with mascara, mouth a vivid red, wearing leather leggings and this tiny top that shows those muscles in her stomach, that sexy belly ring, and the elegant script of a prayer tattooed across her ribs—yeah, they’ll know she’s a star too.
The question isn’t will they want her. The question is will I let them have her. I want her for Prodigy. She thought I was being benevolent when I offered her a spot on my label. When it comes to business, especially music business, I’m
all
business. If I didn’t think she would blow the top off this industry, I wouldn’t have offered her a deal. I believe in her. The only thing that runs deeper than my unequivocal belief in her, is my determination to protect her. There are sharks out there, and John Malcolm has the sharpest teeth.
“How do I look?” She bites her bottom lip, glancing down her body and pushing back her hair.
What amazes me about Kai is that she’s really asking. Other girls would be fishing for compliments. Don’t get me wrong. Kai understands her attraction, but there isn’t a vain bone in that petite body. How that happened, I don’t know. Yet one more thing her mom did right raising her.
“You look great,” I understate. “You nervous?”
“So nervous.” She walks over to me, nudging my legs apart to stand between them and slide onto my lap, lying against my chest. “What if I mess this up? This is the kind of shot I’ve been working for all my life.”
I toss the magazine to the floor and pull her hair away from her neck, planting a kiss there. I push her shoulder back gently until I can tip up her chin and force her to look at me.
“Baby, you are inevitable.”
Her eyes soften and smile back at me.
“Rhyson, that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“I mean it. If for some reason these idiots don’t see it, the next ones will. Or the next ones after that, but you are too talented to go unnoticed.”
“I don’t deserve you.” She leans forward to kiss me quickly before popping up and off my lap. “I’ll be late.”
“Is Gep taking you?” I ask, frowning.
“Yeah, he’s waiting out front.” She strides to the door, high-heeled boots clacking on the floor. “I live you.”
I chuckle at our private joke about her damn autocorrected text.
“I live you, too.”
As soon as I hear the front door close behind her, I’m galvanized, off the couch and dialing Marlon on my cell.
“Okay, I’m ready. Come get me.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m ducking down in the backseat of a rusting Honda Civic with a pizza delivery sign on the roof. Marlon, dreads spilling from beneath a baseball cap, drives through the gates of my neighborhood and past the unsuspecting paps.
“This is stupid,” Marlon says from the front seat.
“I’m just playing it safe.”
“You’re playing it stupid.” He glances back at me.
“Don’t look back here.”
“What exactly do you hope to gain by seeing her audition?”
“I just need to see what happens. I want to be there for her, but I don’t want to make her nervous.”
It’s quiet in the car for a minute, and I’m just about to ask him to turn on the radio when he speaks. Quietly, but he speaks.
“Like, you really love her, don’t you?”
How do I answer honestly without sounding like a pussy?
“You could take away my Grammys and the money and the fame, everything I have, and if you told me I could still keep her, I’d be fine with that.”
How’d I do?
“Damn, you
are
pussy whipped,” Marlon sniggers. “I mean, I like your sister and all, but gimme some Grammys.”
“What you feel for Bristol is all below the belt, Marlon. I wouldn’t put it in the same category as my relationship with Kai.”
“Hey, you’re talking to the unfortunate, scarred soul who walked in on the two of you banging on the piano bench last week, so you’re not all above belt yourself.”
“Okay, that was . . . awkward, but you know what I mean.”
“So you don’t care that Drex tapped that?”
To even hear him talk about her with Drex that way claws at my reason. Even him being my best friend, I want to leap over the backseat and scrape his skin off. I hate that he even knows. I don’t want anyone to know. I actually can’t believe Drex hasn’t told anyone yet, hasn’t exploited the information for his purposes. Unless he took me seriously when I had that cord wrapped around his neck
Which he should have.
“She’s mine.” I say it quietly and with fierce certainty. “It doesn’t matter who came before me. No one else is coming after me.”
“Not ever?”
He’s asking if I want to marry Kai. I want to lovingly chain her to me any way I can. Legally, sexually. I want her wearing my rings. I want her having my babies. Anything that welds us together is fine with me. I know she’s not ready for that, and there’s no rush. She wants to get her career off the ground, and I respect that. We can go at this pace, as long as we’re going together.
“I said, not ever, Rhyson?”
“I heard you.” I peer over the seat, looking into the backlot where
Total Package
records. “Look. We’re here.”
I grab my trusty disguise, the pervy moustache, a thrift shop hat and coat, slipping it over my jeans.
“All you’re missing is the white kidnapper van.” Marlon gestures to my top lip. “Total creeper.”
“Hey, it does the job. Let’s find Luke. He’s my hook up.”
Luke has me set up backstage, behind a curtain, stage right. I have a clear line of vision to Kai, pacing directly across from me, backstage left. She’s chewing on her thumbnail and biting one side of her pouty bottom lip.
I don’t know how to feel. On the one hand, of course I want her to do well. On the other, these guys not only don’t deserve her, I’m not sure they’ll know what to do with her, how to best showcase her talent. Maybe it’s arrogant to think I do, but I know her and I know music. I love her and I love music.
“Ms. Pearson, we’re ready for you,” one of the producers down front calls.
Kai draws a deep breath and then does something that makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and drag her out of here in Marlon’s borrowed rusty Civic. She lifts the nameplate necklace I gave her for Christmas and kisses it, eyes closed tight.
I’ve purposefully avoided her rehearsals, but I’ve heard her doing compression exercises, working on her tone, and stretching her range. It’s paid off. No one would accuse her of being a dancer who sings. She’s a great vocalist. Grady’s been coaching her for this audition. He’s done a great job preparing her, but he had nothing to do with what arrests me, and I’m sure the producers, almost from the moment she steps onto the stage.
All signs of uncertainty, tentativeness, dissipate. Even tiny, barely clearing five feet, she commands the stage from the first step, her wide smile and easy confidence creating a force field around her that nerves and jitters can’t penetrate. She speaks into the mic, her Southern drawl sweetening the air.
“How y’all doing?”
No different than the night we sang a Christmas carol at Glory Falls Baptist for a roomful of people she’d known all her life. As bright and genuine and magnetic.
She gives the nod to the engineer running sound. I know she’s using a track. I would have probably advised her to go live and pared down for the audition because the song is so produced, maybe a simple piano or acoustic arrangement, but as soon as she starts, I understand why she made this choice. She needed the full instrumentation and the background vocals as the base from which she can spring. The bass and grit of the original arrangement allow her to showcase not only her vocal abilities, but in a subtle way, the fluid athleticism of her body. She starts center, but doesn’t stay there long, moving from one end of the stage to the other. Kai can be reserved, but the spunk and fire and energy I get to see when it’s just the two of us, she pours into this performance.
When I suggested the song, I knew it would highlight her vocal ability. When it soars, she can stretch into her range, full-voiced and rich. When it ebbs, she showcases the control and discipline of her vocal instrument. I didn’t realize though, how well it fit her story, her journey. Truth sets every lyric ablaze. When she sings about it being worth the wait and says we haven’t seen the best of her, we know it’s true. We know it’s only a matter of time.
As a professional, I can dissect all the technical things she executes beautifully that make the performance work. Yet, as someone who is seeing her sing and move and emit this riveting stage presence—the whole package onstage really for the first time—I’m awed that I’ve been friends with this girl, been dating this girl, sleeping with this amazing star right under my nose this whole time and had no idea. No fucking idea that she is literally going to jettison past everyone else and explode into the cultural landscape like a meteor.
Me included.
Her last note uncorks applause from the producers. I can’t easily see them from my position, but if I were them, I’d be on my feet. Kai grins, obviously a little overwhelmed by the response, pressing her hand to her forehead and then her chest. Then her stomach. I know that feeling after you’ve given everything, drained your gift for an audience. You don’t know what to do with yourself sometimes when you stop. Nothing else feels as natural as pouring yourself out for them. When you stop, you wonder what else they want, what else you could give.
Luke pulls my arm, jarring me out of the moment.
“You need to get out of here.” He smiles at the few stagehands milling around. “This is a closed audition. It’s a miracle I got you in here. And a bigger miracle that no one has recognized you yet. Let’s go.”
He’s right. I should go. Kai would probably think I’m interfering. She’d be right. I hoped seeing her audition would make my decision easier, my way clearer, but things are murkier now than they were before. Either way I go, I’m afraid she’ll end up hurt. One way, the hurt I control. I inflict. The other, someone else does. When she’s cut, I bleed, so it’s not much of a choice at all.