My Soul To Keep (Soul Series Book 1) (11 page)

His opens his mouth to speak, but the beeping microwave interrupts. I spring to my feet to get his burger. When I set the plate in front of him, he grabs my wrist.

“Hey.” His slow, easy, slightly tilted smile releases a fall of feathers in my belly. “Calm down. Sit down.”

I heave a breath and sit across from him again. Why did I invite him inside? He was all set to go, and my crazy . . . heart? I don’t know what part of my body or mind thought it was a good idea to invite him in . . . but it is in direct defiance of my common sense. He’s eating his burger like this is normal. Like for him to be in a tiny kitchenette with a girl he barely knows is everyday behavior for him, when I know it can’t be.

“I saw San today over at Grady’s,” Rhys says between bites. “Cool guy.”

“Yeah.” Just the mention of my best friend’s name soothes me some, like he just walked in the door and started one of his legendary neck massages. “He told me he saw you.”

Talking about San forces my mind back to the conversation we had before work. I blabbed details about Rhyson that I probably should have kept to myself.

“I actually wanted to confess something, Rhys.”

He glances at me, both brows airborne.

“Confess?”

He may regret coming here after I tell him this. I don’t know, but I’ll tell him in case I divulged something that was supposed to be kept quiet.

“I told San that Grady is your uncle and that he’s your dad’s twin brother.” Before he can respond, I rush on with the rest. “It may not be a big deal, or maybe you wanted it not to be public information, I’m not sure.”

“Kai, it’s—”

“I know how hard it was for you after you emancipated from your parents. How the media hounded your family.”

“Yeah, but—”

“And I know you don’t share a lot of personal information, but you shared that with me, and I don’t want to betray your trust when we’re just now becoming friends, so . . .”

I trail off because he’s looking at me across the table with soft eyes and a small smile curving his full lips.

“It’s fine, Pepper.”

No, he
didn’t
.

“What’d you just call me?” I narrow my eyes and lean across the table.

“You heard me, Pep.” He chuckles a little, his broad shoulders shaking.

“We talked about this.”

“We did, and what you said went completely in one ear and out the other.”

He grins at me, and I accept my fate as Pepper. That grin, those mist-grey eyes, and the messy, burnished hair, recently freed from the wig—how am I supposed to fight that? Before I formally admit defeat, not that he’s waiting for that, the front door opens. San walks in, stopping short when he sees Rhyson finishing up his burger. He blinks and glances at the number on our apartment door, exaggerating his surprised expression before walking farther into the room.

“Had to make sure I was in the right place.”

I laugh, but Rhyson doesn’t.

“You two live together?” There isn’t a smile in sight now, Rhyson’s mouth hardened into a rough line. Eyes narrowed on my best friend.

San laughs, unmoved or unaware of the sudden chill in Rhyson’s words, but I feel it.

“Yeah, where’d you think I lived?”

“In your own place?” Rhyson gets up to put his plate in the sink. He keeps looking between San and me like any moment we’ll start making out in front of him.

“Dude, chill.” San’s words prove he’s not oblivious to the cold front that rolled in with him. “She’s like a little sister to me. We’ve been best friends since elementary school.”

Rhyson’s frown eases, but San’s not done. Oh, no. There’s more.

“I mean, unless you count that one time I took her virginity.”

My head drops to the table, forehead to wood in a classic face-plant. I look up to find Rhyson squinting at San like he can’t see him properly, his mouth tilted to one side like he’s not sure if it’s safe to laugh yet.

“Is that a . . . a joke?” Rhys asks.

“No, just a really long story.” San heads off in the direction of his bedroom. “I’ll let Kai tell you. I’m beat. G’night, guys.”

Why that little . . .

Cheeks ablaze, I face Rhyson with an over-bright smile, silently promising San I’ll smother him while he sleeps.

“I didn’t know you and San lived together.” Rhyson slides one hand into the pocket of his jeans and runs the other over the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I heard that.” I sit back in my seat and calm the hell down. Rhyson and I are just friends. I shouldn’t have to explain anything to him. “Is that a problem?”

He opens and snaps his mouth closed, tilting his head down before returning a small, forced smile to me.

“None of my business, good buddy.”

“We
are
just friends. San and me, I mean.”

Whatever happened to not explaining?

“I wish I’d known you sleep with your friends,” Rhyson says. “I would have accepted the hand of friendship the first time.”

A silence thickens between us as we feel each other out. I can’t tell if he’s actually upset. I have no idea what he’s trying to figure out about me.

“It was senior year, and I was still a virgin.” I cannot believe I’m telling him this. “So was San, for that matter, if you can believe it. My mom had just been diagnosed, and everything in my life flipped upside down. I just . . . I didn’t have time for much anymore. One night before he left for L.A., San and I snuck into the diner’s liquor stash, got plastered, and popped each other’s cherries in the storage closet on a big old sack of grits.”

“That sounds very . . . memorable.” Rhyson’s lips twitch. I think he’s starting to see the funny side of things. I hope so. “I feel for anybody who ordered grits the next day.”

“We were both disgusted the morning after and could barely remember a thing. It was a distant, not-so-clear memory by the time we recovered from our hangovers.” I shake my head and chuckle a little under my breath as the air in the kitchen, which was thick and tight with tension moments ago, starts clearing. “San went on to screw the whole cheering squad and a few softball players.”

“And you?” Rhyson’s smile falls away little by little, and his eyes don’t waver from mine. “Who’d you go on to screw?”

I squelch that little spark of panic I get in my chest every time I think of the last man I slept with. It’s pathetic. I can count on one hand how many guys I’ve slept with but can barely remember two of them. That ill-advised night with the
other
rock star will come back to haunt me one day. I just know it, but not yet. Not tonight.

“No one you’d know.”

He’d probably know the guy on sight, even though I wouldn’t remember his face if he weren’t on television every once in a while.

Rhyson jiggles his keys in his pocket, studying his boots before looking back up at me. His expression is close to normal, and I think he’s past the shock of San being my roommate . . . and my first.

“I’d better get going.” He walks over to stand right in front of me, the heat and scent of his body enfolding me. He’s lean and tall and strong, a tower of handsome male. The only thing I can think is that I would have to rise up on my tiptoes to reach his mouth.

These are not the thoughts of friends, so I shake them off.

“Thanks for the ride home.” My throat is tight around the words.

“Can I have your number?”

He proffers his phone and reaches into my back pocket, taking his time retrieving my phone. I freeze, because the thought of him actually touching my butt without a thin layer of denim separating us could provoke me to some reckless behavior. Our eyes lock and hold. Everything above my belt floats, and everything below it clenches. Does he have any idea how the slow slide of his hand is building a fire in my belly? That the smoke rises through my chest and I can barely breathe?

I blindly enter my number into his phone, transposing the digits a few times before getting it right.

“I’ll call you . . . friend.” He heads for the door with one last look over his shoulder. “Or call me if you need a ride home or anything. I don’t like the thought of you on the bus late at night alone.”

I just nod. I didn’t anticipate his sweetness. I figured him for snarky. Cynical. Arrogant. And, really, he may be all those things. But that’s just the surface few get to scratch below. Maybe even a defense he erects to protect himself from what he’s experienced in the past. But with me, he’s been downright sweet.

Now that I’ve spent some time with Rhyson, I really want to be friends. When we were together tonight, he may have made me nervous, but I barely thought of him performing, or on television, or his fame at all. It was just him. Just laughing and conversation, this connection between us so tangible, I could almost wrap my arms around it. It feels more real than anything I’ve had in a long time. Even if it is just the beginning of a beautiful friendship, I want it to start and to see how far we’ll go.

“KAI, THAT OLD GUY IS BACK.”

Misty’s words, dumped on me as she’s entering the bathroom and I’m leaving, stop me in my tracks. That has to be Rhyson. He told me he would call, but I haven’t heard from him in a week. We’re not dating. We’re not sleeping together. We are tiers below all of that. We’re just friends. That’s my decision, and it’s the right one. He respected my wishes and backed off, which makes my disappointment when he didn’t call all the more irrational.

It’s near the end of my shift. I started with only cherry chapstick and mascara, so not much to do there. I turn back toward the bathroom, thinking I’ll just freshen up, but stop myself. No. I’m not fixing up. If it were San, I’d go out just as I am. I’ll treat Rhyson the same way.

If San were in my section though, my heart probably wouldn’t be pumping high-octane rocket fuel into my veins. My palms probably wouldn’t be damp. And we probably wouldn’t be looking at each other for seconds without speaking like the place isn’t packed wall-to-wall with customers. Like we’re the only ones here.

Other than that, just like San.

“Hey,” He speaks first and flips the napkin-wrapped silverware roll back and forth between his hands. “What’s up?”

“Hello, sir.” I hand him a menu. A smile buds somewhere inside me and blossoms on my lips before I can stop it. “Can I interest you in our senior special tonight?”

His eyes smile back at me for a second, and then his mouth curves under the greying moustache.

“No, but kind of you to offer, young lady. I already know what I want.”

He just looks at me for a few seconds, the smile falling away. His eyes go smoky grey, and a girl could be fooled into thinking he’s not just talking about food. I snap the live wire crackling between us by dropping my eyes and reaching for the order pad in my back pocket.

“So what’ll you have?”

“A friend recommended the bison burger. I had it last time I was here.”

“And was it good?” My grin is back, stretching between my cheeks.

“It was perfect.” He hands the menu back to me without glancing at it. “Let’s do that again.”

“Fries with that?”

“Sweet potato fries, please. I heard they’re a little better for me. When you get to be my age, you can’t be too careful.”

“I can imagine. Excellent choice.” I nod and turn to leave.

“Miss?” Rhyson’s voice stops me, and I turn back. His eyes fall to my name tag. “Kai, is it?”

“Some of my friends call me Pepper.”

That’s flirting, Kai,
the annoying voice of reason warns me.

“Some?” One brow rises, taking the left corner of his mouth with it.

“Well, just one.” I definitely wouldn’t flirt with San like this.

“Ah, just the one.” He nods and holds his lips back from a full-on smile. “Well, Pepper, you didn’t take my drink order.”

“Oh.” I can never get this waitress thing right with him, and I’ve been doing it since I was twelve. “So sorry. What’ll it be?”

“You’ve got a great selection of beers, but just water.” He picks up his phone and starts a text. “I’m driving a friend home after work.”

And that’s how I came to be sitting in my apartment again while Rhyson eats another leftover bison burger.

“Sorry I didn’t call.” His voice is pitched low and confined to my tiny kitchen. This voice crooned to me from the radio earlier today, and now I have it all to myself. It’s intimate and outrageous. “Meetings. Sessions. We’re gearing up for a world tour. My first. Well, since I was a kid, at least. My last world tour was when I was fourteen. That was piano though. Very different from this crazy production my team is planning, even though it’s not that big. Just six weeks next year.”