Refrain (Soul Series Book 3) (9 page)

When I use those questions to test my feelings about what Kai should do with these offers, I know. I feel this way, not because I want to control her, but because I honestly believe what I’m saying. Not as the man who loves her and believes the only way I can safeguard our relationship is through control, that controlling her
is
loving her. But as the man who’s been in this industry basically my entire life and has seen how artists in the game for the long term build their brand. And it’s not based on who they’re dating.

“Look, the public’s fascination is notoriously fleeting and fickle.” I look at my sister frankly. “Could we accept every opportunity they throw Kai’s way? Make sure she’s seen in as many places as possible? Saturate? Sure. But I think we have to be more strategic than that. We should focus on getting quality songs and producers for her first album, shoring up any vocal weaknesses with this new voice instructor I want her to try, and finding the right acting coach to prepare her. When she appears in her first movie, I want people to be blown away, not categorizing her as some chick who got a part because of who she’s engaged to or because she looks the way she does. Kai’s too good for that. Her foundation goes deep. We should build on
that
, not on public interest tied to me. She can stand on her own. She
should
stand on her own. I’m not just saying that as the guy lucky enough to be marrying her, but as the one leading this thing. I believe that’s the right thing for Kai. I believe it’s the right thing for Prodigy, and I’ll tell her so myself.”

“You just did,” Kai says from the door, her voice softened and a smile teasing her lips. “And thank you, Rhyson, for saying all of that. For believing in me.”

I don’t know how much of my diatribe she heard, but it doesn’t matter. I meant every word. I’m not biased in thinking Kai is the best thing since sliced bread. Her career, like anyone else’s, if not handled properly, can get off track before it’s even begun. I love her too much to let that happen.

“I’ll defer to you two lovebirds then.” Bristol laughs good-naturedly, standing up again. “I’ll just keep taking the offers, bringing them to you, and you can decide.”

Kai and I share a smile, and I’ve never wanted to be someone’s partner so badly. Not just in business, in rocketing her career over the next few years, but in life. I want to share every aspect of my life with her, and for her to know when she shares every aspect of hers with me, I’ll always act in her best interest.

“See you, Bristol,” Kai says as Bristol leaves the office. She looks back to me, and the frown she wore when she left the conference room comes back. “Hey, can one of the guys drive me somewhere?”

“What do you need?” I walk over and slip my arms around her slim frame. “I can take you.”

“Um, okay. I thought you might have stuff to do.” She draws a quick breath and looks up at me. “My doctor had a cancellation, but I need to leave like right now.”

“Doctor?” I tip up her chin to search her eyes and make sure she’s not hiding anything from me. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She gives me a smile that I don’t quite buy. “I kept feeling like I was forgetting something. I realized I missed a doctor’s appointment.”

“Is that a big deal?” I spread my hand at the small of her back.

“They can squeeze me in today, so it shouldn’t be.”

Then why does she look like it is?

I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE I HAVE
these little paper gowns on backward. Is this right? Sitting on the examination table, I peer down at my breasts and panties peeking through the open panels. I can’t believe I did this. How did I miss this appointment? I mean, I know how it happened. The tour. My collapse. Our vacation to Bora Bora. The new phone and my screwed up calendar alerts. I’ve had a lot going on, but to let my birth control shot lapse? And by five weeks?

While I was reading through the offers and projects Bristol sent me, I noticed an email all the way at the bottom of the pile about my missed doctor’s appointment. If I’d had my old phone, I would have gotten the reminder call. I would have seen the appointment alert. But I didn’t. And now Rhyson and I have been having unprotected sex for the last five weeks.

The hormone stays in your system for a while. I’m sure I’ve dodged the bullet. I haven’t had any symptoms. No fatigue or morning sickness. Nothing to indicate anything will come from this oversight except a lesson learned. It can’t. I tell myself all these things as I sit and wait for the doctor to come in. I’m so close to doing all the things I’ve always wanted to do. What are the odds that something
else
will slow me down? That through my own negligence, I will slow myself down?

My phone lights up beside me on the table.

Rhyson: Everything okay? Has the doctor seen you yet?

I smile and dial him.

“Hey,” he answers right away.

“Hey. I peed in a cup and the nurse took my blood pressure.” I swing my legs hanging over the table’s side. “So just waiting for the doctor. What are you doing?”

“Working on some tracks for Kilimanjaro.” I hear him still clicking away on the keys while we talk. “There’s a song they’ve been doing on the festival circuit that could be great for their album, but needed some tweaks.”

“Cool. Thanks for bringing me. I’m sure you had better things to do than sit in a waiting room full of women. Is anyone giving you trouble?”

“Nah.” He chuckles and lowers his voice. “I did have one elderly lady tell me I looked a lot like that folk singer Rhyson Gray.”

“
Folk
singer?” I bend at the waist to laugh, clutching the maybe-backward panels together over my naked chest. “What are you, John Denver now?”

“A few people recognized me and asked for autographs, but it hasn’t been that bad. I’m wearing my cap.”

“Which is, in your mind at least, like a cloak of invisibility.”

“You can’t deny its effectiveness.”

“Oh, yes, I . . .” My words peter out when the door opens and Dr. Allister walks in. “My doctor just came in, babe. I’ll be out soon.”

“K. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I smile at the doctor and bite my lip. “Sorry. I know I’m not supposed to be on my phone. Just checking on my fiancé out in the waiting room.”

“Rhyson Gray is in our waiting room?” Dr. Allister’s eyes light up behind her blue-rimmed eyeglasses. “He may need a security escort to get out. Our receptionist is a huge fan. Would he like to wait in a private room? Would that be easier for him?”

I process that she knows who I am, and therefore knows who my fiancé is before answering her question.

“He’s fine, but I’d like to get this shot so he can leave before people start posting pictures of him to Instagram.”

Dr. Allister’s smile fades a little. She takes the seat facing the table at the end with the dreaded stirrups.

“Kai, about your shot.” She glances down at her clipboard and then back to me, watching me carefully. “You do realize you were overdue, right?”

“Yeah. I was on tour and out of town and then got a new phone.” I wave my hand to dismiss all my excuses. “Sorry. You don’t want to hear all that. Yes. I was a little past due.”

“Five, almost six weeks, past due.” Dr. Allister licks her lips and leans forward. “It’s standard for us to do a pregnancy test before administering the birth control shot.”

The fear I’d barely allowed myself to consider stares back fully-formed at me from behind Dr. Allister’s shiny lenses.

“No.” I grip the little paper gown in my fist until I’m sure I’ll tear it “I’m not . . .”

“Pregnant, yes.” Dr. Allister’s kind eyes run over my face, which must be drained of all blood.

“But the hormone—”

“The efficacy of the hormone is drastically reduced after even two weeks past the shot, much less nearly six, Kai.”

“I just . . . I didn’t . . .”

I run a trembling hand through my hair. It’s still a little damp. Rhyson and I shower together most mornings. Have sex in the shower most mornings. Had sex this morning. I press my eyes shut and swallow back tears. How could I have been so careless?

“Could there be a mistake?” I ask desperately. “I mean, maybe there’s been a mistake. I feel great. No symptoms whatsoever.”

“Your urine test shows hCG levels.” Dr. Allister shakes her head. “That’s the hormone we’re looking for when a woman is pregnant.”

“But I . . . you’re sure?”

“Yes, we’re sure.” A smile softens Dr. Allister’s expression. “I’d like to do a transvaginal sonogram. That might make you more . . . certain.”

“Like an ultrasound?”

“A little different. Not the jelly on the belly thing.” Dr. Allister stands. “Slightly more intrusive, but it will help us determine how far along you are.”

As soon as she says “how far along you are,” I have visions of people walking up to me in grocery stores and in Starbucks, touching my swollen belly and asking when I’m due. This can’t be happening.

“I’ll get a technician in here to get it going.”

Things are moving at warp speed, but I slow down long enough to think, to remember that Rhyson is in the waiting room. He has literally been having dreams about our unborn daughter for months. He should be here. Despite the dreams, neither of us imagined it would happen this quickly. We just got engaged last week.

“I need to call my fiancé.” I grab my phone, take a deep breath and dial Rhyson.

“You ready?” he asks after not even a full ring. “That was quick.”

“Um, yeah.” I chew at the corner of my lip. “Could you come back here to examination room 4C?”

In the silence, his immediate concern reaches through the phone and wraps around me.

“Is something . . .” He clears his throat. “Are you okay, Pep?”

“I’m fine.” I brighten the words to dispel his worry. “Could you just come back?”

It seems that I’ve barely hung up when the door swings open and Rhyson pokes his head in. I motion for him to step all the way into the room. He crosses the small space, butting his knees right up against mine and taking my hands in his.

“What’s going on?” Concern darkens his silvery eyes to slate. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just . . .” My glance drops to my hands linked with his in my lap. “The doctor just told me . . . I’m . . . I got a new phone.”

He blinks at me several times before sputtering.

“What the—what the hell, Pep? You called me into the lady doctor’s office to tell me you got a new damn phone?”

“Lady doctor?” An ill-timed giggle pops out of my mouth. “I haven’t heard . . . I guess she is a lady doctor.”

“Pep, for God’s sake. What is it?”

“I got a new phone.”

“Not this shit again.” He tips his head back and heaves a longsuffering sigh.

“Let me tell you this my way.”

“Your way is agonizingly slow. Meanwhile, I’m picturing a tumor the size of a watermelon on your ovaries. Spit it out.”

“Because of the phone thing I missed my emails and voice mails,” I rush on to say before he can interrupt again. “And I missed my appointment.”

“Okay. You told me that.” He squints at me, confusion all over his face. “That’s why we’re here, right?”

“I missed my shot, Rhyson,” I say meaningfully. “You know. My birth control shot. By almost six weeks actually.”

“Six weeks.” I can see the facts connecting in his head before his eyes meet mine. A question is already forming there, but he doesn’t ask the
real
question.

“So we’ve been having unprotected sex for six weeks. Is that what you’re telling me?”

I nod, licking my lips and fidgeting with the edges of my paper gown.

“I’m pregnant,” I whisper, afraid to raise my eyes. In case he’s angry. In case he’s as thrown as I am.

An almost undetectable sound from the air conditioner fan is all I hear for a few moments. When I finally look up, Rhyson’s mouth is hanging open and his eyes are fixed on my stomach.

“You’re . . . you’re . . . what?” He sounds almost breathless.

“I’m preg—”

The rest of the word doesn’t make it past my lips. Rhyson snatches me off the table and holds me so tight that if I had stuffing it would all be squeezed out of me. My feet dangle inches above the floor.

“Rhyson, baby, put me down,” I mumble into his neck.