My Soul To Keep (Soul Series Book 1) (6 page)

“We said you’d leave Kai alone.”

“No,
you
said I’d leave Kai alone.” I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “Besides, we were just talking.”

“I’ve seen where ‘talking’ can lead. She’s been through enough without dealing with you.”

“What’s she been through?”

“Her mother, who she was very close to, passed away only about six months ago, right before she moved here. It was a long illness, and Kai was her main caregiver. It took a lot out of her. In a lot of ways, she’s still not over it.”

I haven’t spoken to my mom in . . . damn, years . . . but if anything happened to her, I’d take it hard. I imagine Kai had a less dysfunctional relationship with her mother. Shit, the Addams Family is less dysfunctional than mine.

“What’s up with her and the guy?”

“Santos?” Grady slips his glasses back on and takes the composition pad away from me. “Oh, they’re very close.”

My shoulders tense as I wait for more, but he’s not giving me more. He wants to lure every question out of me.

“Yeah, they’re close. I picked up on that. Are they just friends though?”

Grady shrugs, tapping his chin with a pencil.

“Maybe I should try a different key.”

“Grady, come on. Toss me a bone here.”

“Why should I?” He drops the pencil, along with any pretense that he doesn’t know exactly what I want. “There are plenty of girls out there more than willing to play your games.”

“Who says I want to play games? I just want to get to know her.”

“Are you telling me you don’t want to sleep with Kai?”

Well, he just put that right out there, didn’t he? It should be awkward, him being my uncle and all, but I did live through my out-of-control adolescence under his roof. He did buy me my first condoms. We left awkward behind long ago.

“Grady, I just met the girl last night. Give me some time. Maybe start with coffee.”

“I’m just saying what’s the point? She’s very driven. Very focused, and not one of these girls looking for anything she hasn’t earned. So just let her go her way, and you keep going yours.”

“Do you really think that little of me?”

“I just think that
much
of her. She hasn’t been in L.A. long. Moved here from the backwoods of Georgia. She needs protecting.”

“And you’re her designated protector?”

“I seem to remember someone else who needed looking after when he first moved here.” The stern lines of his face soften just a bit. “Wasn’t I that for you when you needed it?”

Grady just played his trump card. He knows I can’t, or won’t, argue with that. I got nothing.

“So
now
do we have an agreement?” Grady picks up the pencil and poises it over the song we haven’t worked on yet. “You’ll leave this one alone?”

I nod and start reworking the measures he’s been wrestling with, but I don’t say the words. Another lesson I learned from my parents the hardest of ways. Don’t make promises you aren’t sure you can keep.

I PUSH BACK THE CURTAIN OF
Grady’s living room window for the hundredth time and check my watch. It’s so unlike Santos to be late. If he’s not here soon, I’ll be late for my hip-hop class. I hate the thought of my girls standing around waiting for me at the community center. I’m just about to call Santos one more time, when my cell rings. It’s him.

“Where are you?” I can’t even bother with a decent greeting.

“I’m sorry, pipsqueak.” Santos sounds irritated and apologetic at the same time. “Some guy rear-ended me.”

My heart completely shifts gears, concern swallowing any impatience.

“Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m fine. Still about thirty minutes away, and the cops want me to stay on the scene. I don’t want you to be late.”

Grady and Rhyson enter the room, laughing and talking. I turn my back, blocking them out of my conversation as much as I can.

“I’ll be fine, San. Just focus on that, and I’ll figure it out.”

I’m already calculating how late I’ll be if I have to wait for the next bus, and how every stop will further delay me getting to class on time.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe this happ—Hold on.” His voice grows fainter like he’s turned his head. “Hey, it’s the cop.”

“Go. I’ll figure it out. I’m just glad you’re okay. Text me once everything settles down.”

Grady walks over to me, concern on his face.

“Everything okay with Santos?”

I focus on Grady, keeping my eyes off Rhyson, who stands back, observing our conversation, arms crossed over his chest. I will not notice the subtle bulge of his biceps pulling at the sleeves of his T-shirt. I will not remember the heat of his hand on my stomach or his finger caressing my belly ring. Or the way his, “May I touch you here?” pierced my peace of mind back in the music room.

“San was in a car accident, but he’s fine. He just has to stay at the scene.”

“He was taking you to class?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I’ll catch the bus to the community center.”

“You’ll be late.” Grady pulls the keys from his pocket. “I can take you.”

“No way.” I shift the bag on my shoulder and start inching toward the door. “Emmy’s coming. I want you two to have a great time. I’ll just take the bus.”

“I could take you.” Rhyson breaks his watchful silence for the first time.

My traitor heart stutters at the thought of spending more time alone with him. Grady looks even less pleased about that suggestion than I should be.

“No, I can do it.” Grady pulls out his phone. “Emmy will understand. I’ll just call her and let her know we’ll be a little later than I thought.”

“That makes no sense. You have plans, and I’m free all afternoon.” Rhyson walks to the door, propping it open with his broad back. “Come on, Kai.”

I look from Grady to Rhyson, unsure of what to do. If I take Rhyson up on his offer, I’ll make my class on time. Problem solved. But if I go with him, I might find myself knee-deep in one tall, dark, fascinating problem that I can’t solve.

Rhyson raises both brows and cocks his head toward the driveway.

“If you don’t wanna be late, we’d better go.”

I glance at my watch one more time, as if it has the answer. My girls will be waiting. I can’t afford to miss this class because I need the money. I don’t want Grady missing his date. Should be an easy choice, but the way my breath keeps catching in my throat when Rhyson looks at me complicates the hell out of this situation.

Screw it. Girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

I drop my eyes to the floor, and when I look up, a small smile plays around Rhyson’s mouth. He gestures for me to walk past him. Before I do, I lean up and plant a quick kiss on Grady’s cheek.

“I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

He nods, but fixes his eyes on Rhyson at the door.

“Remember what we talked about, Rhys.”

Rhyson runs his fingers through that silky, messy hair and nods, exchanging a look with Grady I can’t begin to decipher. I walk past him and approach the only car in the driveway, the silver Porsche Cayenne that was parked there when I arrived. I didn’t think much of it since there’s always a student, a producer, some friend visiting Grady. The SUV is gorgeous, but not over the top. No butterfly door in sight. It’s not a Ferrari or a Lamborghini Mercy. Maybe I’ve seen one too many episodes of
Cribs
. Or maybe Rhyson left his Lambo at home.

“Nice car.” I buckle myself in, watching him slip on aviators and adjust his mirror about a millimeter.

“Thanks,” Rhyson says, backing out of the driveway without looking my way again.

I tell him where to find the studio. We should be there in less than twenty minutes, but the first five minutes feel like forever. We ride in complete silence. No music. No conversation. Not even a sigh from either of us.

“So, did you and Grady finish what you were working on?” I finally ask.

Why am I attempting small talk? Back at Grady’s, I was fighting what I felt, resisting the pull of him. Now that he seems to be doing the same thing, I’m stirring the pot. This is what girls do. But not me. Usually.

Rhyson flicks me a glance before looking back at the highway.

“Uh, yeah.”

Okay. That was a dismissal if I ever heard one. This is what I wanted, and yet I already miss the intensity of his eyes on me. I miss his complete attention.

“This car is kind of my namesake.”

Really, Kai? You’re still trying
? But I can’t help it. Parts of me that have been numb for months are humming and buzzing every time he looks at me. Every time he talks to me. Even though I have my reservations, now that he’s withdrawn, I find myself drawing him back out just so I can feel those things again.

He looks over at me, one dark brow quirked up.

Damn, that’s sexy. And he’s waiting for me to elaborate.

“I’ll tell you a secret.” I open and close the snaps on my cargo shorts, focusing on my fingers before looking his way again.

“That’s unexpected.” One side of his mouth pulls up, but he doesn’t look my way again. “I’m all ears.”

“My middle name is Anne.”

I wait a few seconds while he assembles that little bit of information into the goofy embarrassment my mother made of my name.

“Your name is Kai Anne?” He looks over at me, a wide grin spreading his lips and showing his teeth. “Like the pepper?”

“And like your car.”

I have to laugh. I can’t believe I just told the guy I was trying to shut down something that has always embarrassed me. I have no one to blame but myself. He was fully cooperating until I started
sharing
.

“Oh, God. I thought I had it bad with Rhyson,” he says, chuckling.

“I like Rhyson.”

Our eyes connect across the few feet of space separating us, heating up the air and melting his smile a little around the edges

“I mean, the name.” I draw a deep breath. “I like the
name
Rhyson.”

“I knew what you meant.” He looks straight ahead as he takes the exit for the rec center. “So, did everyone call you Pepper?”

“No one has
ever
called me Pepper.”

“You’ve got to be kidding? How could they not?”

“Not many people know my middle name is Anne. And my mother didn’t realize the punch line she was making of my name.”

“So there has to be a story behind it. Come on. Fess up.”

“No confession. My mom was Korean, but my grandparents adopted her when she was just days old. She already had a name though. Mai Lin. She wanted me to have a name that at least hinted at her ancestry, even though she couldn’t speak a lick of Korean.”

“Not a lick, huh?”

“Don’t you start that again.” I level a warning finger at him. “Leave the South alone.”

“I’ve spent very little time there, but if all the girls there look like you, I should visit.”

“Wow. You just couldn’t resist the line, huh?”

His mouth quirks. I need to stop noticing all the enticing things he does with his mouth, but I can’t help myself. I’m trapped in this car with one of the most brilliant musicians of my generation, who just happens to have gorgeous bed hair at four o’clock Pacific Standard Time and grey eyes that go a little darker every time he looks at me for more than three seconds.

He pulls into a parking spot at the center, leans one elbow on the steering wheel, and faces me.

“Looks like we’re here, Pepper.”

I open my eyes as wide as they can physically go.

“I told you no one has ever called me that. You cannot. I forbid you.”

“Oh, and I’m so scared of a five-foot fairy.”

I will not smile back at him. As much as my grin muscles strain, I will not.

“Five. Two.”

He throws his head back and laughs, the muscles in his neck working to get the husky sound out.

“Okay, five two.” He looks just past my shoulder at the simple square structure of the community center. “Is there a bathroom in there I might be able to use?”

“Sure. Um, I’ll show you.”

“Wait a second.” He reaches into a compartment between our seats and pulls out a Dodgers baseball cap. “I’m not in the mood to sign any autographs at the urinal.”

“Does that really happen?”

“You’d be surprised what I’ve been asked to sign at the most awkward times in the most awkward places.”