My Soul To Keep (Soul Series Book 1) (13 page)

“Call me that again and I’m junk punching you.”

“Hey, that’d be more action than I’ve gotten in the last few weeks.”

“Ginny not servicing you?” I pull the elastic from my hair, shaking the waves loose.

“
Spotted
is keeping us both so busy.”

“You love it though, right?” I bring out the vintage Sonny and Cher nightshirt my mom gave me for my sixteenth birthday. It guarantees me a good night sleep every time.

“I love it, but I’m just exhausted and involuntarily celibate.”

“Two weeks?” I scoff. “Try . . .”

I trail off. My self-imposed celibacy hasn’t given me any problems until lately. San knows that, so this is a dangerous path that will only lead to more probing and poking about Rhyson and me. Or more digging about my last sexual encounter, which San knows is off limits.

“You haven’t gotten laid since that jerk from the video shoot?” San leans against the doorjamb. “How do you do it? I can’t make it through one shower without jerking off.”

“San, there is such a thing as TMI, even in this friendship.”

“Don’t get all prissy. We passed TMI around eighth grade when we went shopping for your first training bra.”

I snort laughing from that memory.

“Remember the sales lady was so polite, saying she thought I could wait a while?”

“There wasn’t much to train at the time, but you were determined not to be the only eighth grade girl still wearing undershirts.”

We’ve been through everything together. Middle school drama. High school heartbreaks. No one else could have dragged me away from Glory Falls so soon after Mama’s funeral.

“You know I love you right, San?”

His cocky grin softens until it’s just a soft crook that warms my heart and has made me feel at ease more than half my life.

“Sometimes I know you better than you know yourself, Kai.”

“True story.” I take off my earrings and stow them in the jewelry box.

“That’s how I know you’ll jump Rhyson’s bones before the year is out.”

I whirl around, pointing to the hall behind him.

“Out.”

San laughs, steps back into the hall, and closes his door. His parting words reach me through the door and stay with me until I fall asleep in my beloved nightshirt.

“Mark my words.”

IF I HADN’T BEEN BORN A
musician, I’m pretty sure I could have made a living as a professional gamer. A lot less money. A lot fewer women. A much pastier complexion. Upside is I wouldn’t have to wear disguises to go out in public to avoid some camera shoved in my face every day. This is the alternate destiny I consider as I kick my best friend, Marlon’s, ass in Madden. Again. He just won’t give up.

Kai’s ring tone breaks my concentration. Where’s my damn phone?

“Pause it.” I tear my eyes away from the screen, scanning the floor for my phone. It doesn’t escape my notice that Marlon’s still playing.

“Man, pause it.” I toss my controller to the floor and start flipping couch cushions up searching for my phone. “You seen my phone?”

“What’s it look like?” he asks.

“What the hell do you mean what’s it—” I stop to look at him. Smartass is holding my phone up, inspecting the screen.

“Give me my phone, Marlon.” He thinks I’m playing, but if Kai hangs up, I’m suspending him from a chandelier by his dreadlocks.

“Who’s Pepper?” His teeth flash white against that dark chocolate skin the girls fall at his feet for. He wiggles his eyebrows. “Is that her stripper name?”

I snatch my phone and walk a few paces away, turning my back on him.

“Hey, Pep. What’s up?”

“Nothing much.” Her honeyed, husky voice goes straight to my dick. I should be used to it by now, but I’m not.

“Everything okay?”

Even though I’ve told her over and over to call me if she ever needs a ride, she never does. San usually will text me or call. I’m glad I resisted the urge to cut his balls off when I found out they lived together
and
that he was her first. How I restrained myself that night, I’m still not sure, but it’s apparent that aside from one random initiating sexual encounter in a storage room on a bag of grits, they’re like family. So for her to call . . . even Madden’s not worth missing this.

“Everything’s great,” she says. If we were together, I bet she’d be biting the sweet curve of her bottom lip. “I . . . um . . . well, I worked an extra shift at The Note today.”

Not surprising. She’s the hardest working girl I’ve ever met.

“An extra shift, huh?” I laugh and lean against the pool table Marlon insisted I had to have, but we rarely use. “That sounds like you.”

“Yeah. Well, my manager gave me the day off tomorrow.”

“Cool.”

I need to let her take the lead here. I’m always the one initiating contact, calling her, picking her up from work, texting first. In the six weeks we’ve known each other, this is one of the few times she’s reached out to me. I need to be patient enough to see how far she’ll come.

“And I don’t have a class to teach tomorrow.” She clears her throat. “And Grady doesn’t need me.”

Okay. That’s enough hanging back. Who am I kidding? I haven’t seen her in days, and I’m practically salivating at the chance.

“We should hang out or something,” I say, keeping my voice casual.

I’m really not used to being in this position. The one chasing and playing down my feelings. But Kai is like another species. I’m not even sure she’s fully girl. She rarely even acknowledges that I’m famous. Or rich. She won’t let me within an inch of paying for lunch, much less the gargantuan medical debt she’s struggling to pay off.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” She sounds relieved that I suggested it first. “Maybe you could pick me up from work, if you don’t have anything to do.”

“I’m free all night,” I lie, already calculating just how much shifting it’ll take to free up my night. “What time should I pick you up?”

“I get off a little early. Nine o’clock.”

“What do you wanna do?”

“Well, I’m still pretty tired from the double shift. I was thinking . . . well, before I called you, I was thinking I would just stay home and catch the
Sex and the City
marathon.”

Shit. That’s a boring bullet through the head.

“You know, I’ve wanted to see that,” I force myself to say. “I never saw it when it was on television.”

Kai’s knowing chuckle loosens the air between us.

“I call BS, Rhys.”

“Okay, it sounds about as good as
Legally Blonde
.”

“That’s more like it!” She laughs outright on the other end. “But just like
Legally Blonde
, you have no idea what you’re missing.”

“Mmmmm.” Let’s just leave it at that.

“I’ll make a deal with you.”

“This should be good.”

“We’ll watch a few episodes, and if you hate them, we’ll watch something you want to see.”

“That sounds fair.”

“It’s really fair.”

“Now, if I agree to watch this marathon of girlery, you have to do something I want to do tomorrow on your day off.”

“The optimal word being ‘my.’ You want to dictate what I do on my day off?”

“I promise it’ll be more fun than what you were planning to do.”

“You don’t know what I was planning to do.”

“Ah, let’s see. Did it involve cleaning your bathroom, doing laundry, and watching something like, I don’t know,
Burlesque
?”

Her momentary silence on the other end makes me appreciate all the long nights in her living room after work when I actually listened.

“
Burlesque
is another movie you should give a chance, by the way.”

“The hell I’ll watch Cher and Christina Aguilera grinding on chairs and singing show tunes.”

“Wow, talk about oversimplification of a plot.”

“I’m pretty sure the plot was already pretty simple.”

“You’re such a snob.”

“I think we both knew that.”

She chuckles on the other end, and I’d like to teleport wherever she is right now. In a matter of weeks this girl has twisted me into a Boy Scout knot. She invades my mind at inconvenient times, like when I’m supposed to be writing, during meetings for the tour, or in the middle of sessions.

First thing in the morning. Just before I fall sleep.

“Okay, snob,” she says. “What are we doing tomorrow?”

I want to fist pump, but I’ve matured beyond that. Also, I feel Marlon’s inquisitive eyes on me. He’s already going to ride me about this.

“I was thinking a short ride to Pismo Beach to ride dune buggies.”

“A short ride?” Her voice squeaks. “Isn’t that like two hours away?”

Almost three, but who’s counting?

“Something like that, but we’ll make a day of it.”

It’s the closest we’ve come to a date. Usually our time together consists of me picking her up from work, taking her home, eating leftover food from her job, and us talking or watching movies until San comes home and cock blocks. Not that there is any cocking to block, but still.

“So is San out tonight working?” I ask.

His work for that sleazy online rag has picked up significantly. If I weren’t positive he’s completely loyal to Kai, I’d worry. Me dating a girl whose best friend is basically a pap? Not that we’re dating. We’re . . . friending. Just ask my right hand. Every morning in the shower it sees how I’m handling all this friending.

“He’s in Vegas on assignment,” she says softly. “So I’ll be home alone.”

This time I do fist pump, and sure enough, Marlon gives a knowing grunt, which I ignore.

“Maybe I’ll just stay over then.” I say it like it’s not monumental. “I don’t want you home by yourself.”

One of the things I love about Kai is her brain.

“Wow. That’s big of you,” she says, words dipped in sarcasm. “I think I’ll be fine. We’ll see.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” I agree. “We’ll play it by ear.”

I’m staying.

“Okay, see you around nine then. And don’t worry about a disguise.” I can hear the smile in her voice, and it makes me smile even though I can’t see her. Goofy shit like this keeps happening. “Just text me when you’re outside, and I’ll come to the parking lot.”

“Okay. See you at nine.”

As soon as we hang up, I dial my manager.

“What’s up, Rhys?”

New York probably won’t ever leave Bristol’s voice, no matter how long she lives on this coast. Her words are always like tiny pellets coming fast and hard at me. Managing me is probably the only thing that would have ripped her away.

“Hey, I need you to reschedule tonight’s session for me.”

If I leave it at that, maybe she won’t act like it’s a big deal.

“What the hell?”

Or not.

“Don’t give me shit on this, Bris. Just do it.”

“That’s what you said when you made me bring all these musicians from all over the freaking world for these damn sessions.” Bristol wraps her hard-edged voice around the words to full advantage, like a wire hanger.

“They’re here for another few days. I’ll pay them the same no matter what. No skin off their backs. Just tell them we’ll pick up on Sunday night.”

“But you leave for New York Wednesday. You don’t want to rush this.”

“I think I’m the musician here. I know what I’m doing, Bris.”

“I just want you making the best use of your time, Rhyson. You brought in a damn flutist from Budapest.”

“I think he prefers flautist.”

“And I prefer not to have all my hard work undone, for what? What is more important than laying these tracks for your next album, Rhys?”

Usually nothing, but there is nothing “usual” about what’s been going on with me since I met Kai. I haven’t introduced her to Marlon or Bristol or anyone in that other part of my life. I’ve roped my time with Kai off from everyone else because, well, it’s mine. Mine and hers.

I threw the friendship flag out as a way to get closer to her because I thought I might want more. Now I know for
sure
I want more, but getting to know her this way is fantastic, and in all honesty, I just want to keep her to myself as long as I can. Not have Bris or Marlon questioning her motives or soiling what has been the purest connection I’ve ever shared with anyone. She asks nothing of me. She’s not
after
anything, except to know me the way I want to know her. To talk about music and movies and the things that have hurt and helped us. I have close friends, great friends, but this is something I’ve never had before.
She
is something I’ve never had before, and I can’t get enough.