“I LIKE YOUR HAIR LIKE THIS.”
I turn my head toward Rhyson’s softly spoken compliment. He’s leaning into the corner of the elevator, Gep a few feet to his left. His full lips tip up at one corner as he eyes the hair falling from a deep side part, bone straight and past my shoulders.
“Thank you.” I nod to Ella, who styled me and is riding down with us to the meet and greet. “He likes your handiwork, lady.”
Rhyson’s lazy grin creases his lean cheeks and warms his eyes.
“You did her hair for the birthday party too, right?” he asks. “I liked it like that, too.”
“How do you like Kai’s hair best?” Ella winks at me.
Rhyson lifts and drops a few strands of the hair clinging to my bare arm, his eyes darkening to slate.
“On my pillow.” He laughs and shrugs when I cover my reddening face with both hands. “What? She asked!”
I widen my eyes at him and avoid amused looks from Ella and Gep. Around floor thirty-eight, a gentle hand tugs me back to stand against Rhyson’s chest. My breath stutters at the heat of our proximity. He pushes my hair aside, his breath fluttering over the sensitive skin of my neck. The anticipation of his touch layers tension across my body.
Limb by limb, my shoulders, arms, butt, and legs melt into him. A sharply drawn breath at my ear confirms I’m not alone in this sweet torture. I may be softer in all the places he’s firm, but he’s as much putty in my hands as I am in his. The clean, masculine scent, so uniquely his, wraps around me. A shiver skitters down my spine when his fingers brush against my skin ostensibly to close the button of the dress Ella brought to the suite earlier, a sleeveless linen shift that skims my curves and flares around my thighs. Colored polka dots create cheery pops of color against the white palette.
“Your button came loose.” Rhyson’s words are innocent enough, but I hear the throb embedded in the huskiness of his voice.
“Thank you.” I angle my head to catch his eyes over my shoulder. Will it ever get old, this bolt of sensation transmitted between us when our eyes meet? I force myself to look away before the connection deepens beyond what I can handle in the bounds of decency and the confines of an elevator.
Ella attempts small talk with Gep, and they’re so close I’m surprised they don’t smell passion thickening the air. Rhyson and I remain silent during the descent, relishing the secret brewing between our bodies. The ding of the elevator finally landing at the lobby snaps into the taut air around us. Even the few steps I take forward to exit the elevator don’t erase the shape of him imprinted into my back.
“Damn.” Rhyson pats the pockets of his dark jeans. “I left my phone upstairs. Gep, go with Kai, and I’ll meet you guys there.”
Gep doesn’t look too pleased about abandoning his post. Considering all of Rhyson’s fans sure to be milling around in the lobby, neither am I.
“It’s like what, a hundred feet from here to the table?” I turn Gep back toward the elevator by his shoulder. “Gep can stay with you. I’ll be fine.”
“That’s not an option, Pep.” If Rhyson’s words didn’t just tell me I’m not taking even those hundred feet alone, the deep scowl on his face does.
“I’ll just text one of the guys to meet you at the penthouse.” Gep is already typing on his phone.
Before I can protest any further, the elevator doors are closing on Rhyson’s smug smile, and he’s gone. Gep, Ella, and I head toward the area Bristol designated for Rhyson and me to meet and greet.
“On my pillow.” Ella’s whisper hides the words from Gep’s alert ears. “Gah, how do you not just melt all over that man? The way he looks at you and the things he says. I’d be a puddle, and he’d basically have to carry me around in a glass all day.”
Laugher sputters over my lips at the image of Rhyson transporting a liquid Ella in a tumbler.
“He is pretty dreamy.” The trusty lovesick smile takes over my face. “Sometimes I—”
“Kai!” someone calls from a few feet away.
I turn toward my name, and surprise glues my feet to the lobby’s expensive carpet.
“Dub.” I shake my head, forcing myself to orient and recover. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
“I was hoping we’d run into each other.” That’s not exactly an answer to my question, and we both know it. A silence falls between us, and I’m not sure what to fill it with.
“I’m gonna go check on the guys and make sure they’re all presentable.” Ella’s smile doesn’t hide her curiosity. “Later, Dub. Good seeing you again.”
As soon as she’s out of earshot, the words rush out of me.
“Dub, why are you here?”
Dub’s eyes flick to Gep standing like a stone sentry at my side. I’ve gotten so used to having security around us all the time, especially Gep, I forget he’s even there sometimes. They become like the wallpaper. If wallpaper knows a dozen ways to kill you and efficiently dispose of the body.
“Gep, could you give us a second?” Impatience compresses my mouth when he doesn’t move. “It’s okay. You know we’re friends.”
Gep’s eyes remind me that he knows more than just about anyone else, including how displeased the man who signs his paycheck would be. With a look that asks if I’m sure about this, he takes a measly two steps away.
“I know it sounds conceited but I have to ask.” An anxious breath slips out. “You’re not here for me, are you? This is just a coincidence?”
“I knew the showcase was this weekend.” Dub shrugs, his muscular shoulders straining against his t-shirt. “Your cell wasn’t working, so I was hoping to catch you without Gray’s goons, but I see he keeps you as locked down here as he does in LA.”
“I’m not locked down.” I press fingers to my temple, already anticipating a headache. “Rhyson’s on his way down. You should go.”
“Why? It’s a free country.”
“But I’m not free, Dub.” My voice softens for the man who was such a good friend to me on tour until he started asking for more. “I’m engaged. You know that, right?”
“Oh, he made sure I’d know.” Bitterness deepens his Irish lilt and distorts his chuckle into a bark. “He was sending me a message. A man as private as Gray wouldn’t make such a show of something that personal without a good reason.”
I won’t tell Dub that he’s flattering himself if he thinks Rhyson’s public proposal had anything to do with him.
“Please go before he sees you.”
“Are you afraid of him, Kai?” One large hand wraps around my elbow, and the other presses into my hip, drawing me a few inches closer. “Is that it?”
“Afraid of Rhys?” I scoff and tug unsuccessfully to loosen my elbow. “Of course not. Please let me go before he comes. I don’t want a scene. I have this meet and greet today and the showcase tomorrow. I need to focus, and I don’t know what else to do to make it clear this can’t happen.”
“I miss you, Kai.” He dips to hold my eyes, the massive shoulders blocking everything behind him. “I miss working with you. I know the choreographer you used for Grip’s video. You can’t tell me you have the same chemistry with her that you have with me.”
“It’s not about that, Dub.” I sigh and glance at Gep, who is eyeing Dub’s hand on my arm. “You’re right. We have great artistic chemistry, but your . . . feelings make things complicated.”
“You care about me.” He grips my chin, leaning so close his breath whispers across my lips. “You miss me. I know you do.”
I shake my head, as much to free my chin from his fingers as to deny his mistaken assumption. Did I miss working with him on Grip’s shoot? Miss feeling like another dancer could read my mind with his choreography? Miss the moves that felt tailor-made for my body? Yes, of course. But that pales in comparison to what I gain letting go of Dub. Rhyson’s trust. His appreciation that I put us first.
“Dub, we’re friends. I do care about you. Of course, I do, but . . .”
The half-formed sentence trails off as I search for the right words. It’s because I care that I need to get him out of here before Rhyson comes. In the pause I use to make sure I can be firm and tactful without being cruel, a familiar weight settles at the small of my back. A large hand, tipped with calluses from making beautiful music, pulls me away from Dub.
Daggumit.
“Dub.” Rhyson’s voice is a dirty cocktail of tolerance and disdain. “I had no idea this town was so small. Imagine running into you like this. You here for a shoot?”
“Nope.” Defiance glints in Dub’s eyes.
“Oh.” Rhyson draws me deeper into the cove of his body. “Party? Meeting? Vacation?”
“Nope.” Dub glances from Rhyson’s possessive hold on me and back to his face. “None of the above.”
The corners of Rhyson’s mouth turn down, appropriate since I know that’s the direction this conversation is headed.
“Kai, I think Bristol’s looking for you. We’ll be getting started soon.” He drops a kiss into my hair and turns to Gep. “Could you take her to our table, Gep? I think it’s just around the corner.”
“Rhys, come with me.” I wrap my hand around his strong wrist. “Most of the people will be your fans. You don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“The first in line will have been waiting for a long time. A few more minutes won’t make much difference.” He slides hard eyes in Dub’s direction. “Besides this won’t take long.”
“Rhyson, don’t—”
He doesn’t offer words to stop my protest. He silences me with a glance. A blizzard of fury, cold and unrelenting, falls in his eyes when he turns to stare at me. I wanted to spare Dub this, but he’s brought it on himself really. And if it comes down to creating tension with the man I love or leaving Dub to his own dumb devices, I’ll choose the man I love every time. I can only hope that Rhyson will show some mercy.
“Gep, let’s go.” I turn and leave Dub with the tiger he just poked.