Down to My Soul (Soul Series Book 2) (21 page)

“Seriously, Rhys.” Kai scoots away, taking my stiffie with her, sitting back against the wall, displeasure in her frown. “Not cool.”

“So maybe we’ll call it even since she thought we weren’t together just like Dub did.” I consider her across the small space. “But you’ll tell him, right?”

“Right.”

“I’m just glad this tour is almost over. I understand you working with him on Luke’s tour. It’s Luke’s right to choose who he wants on his team, but you won’t be working with Dub for your project, right?”

She’s quiet and avoiding my eyes.

“Kai, right?”

“I don’t know.” She straightens her legs out in front of her, leaning forward. “Once Dub knows we’re together it won’t be a problem. I think it’ll be okay, Rhys.”

“No, it won’t.” I give an adamant shake of my head. “He still wants you. I’m not cool with you working together beyond the tour.”

“He’s the best in the business. We’ve already started brainstorming stuff for my videos.”

“Then un-storm. There are other choreographers out there.”

“Jimmie went further than Dub did today, and I’m not asking you not to work with her again. For that matter, did I ever ask you not to work with Petra?”

“That’s the thing. You could. At any moment you could say ‘Hey, Rhys, could you please not work with the girls you’ve fucked,’ and I wouldn’t.”

“But I trust you, so I don’t need to do that.”

“Don’t make this a trust issue. It’s not.”

“It absolutely is. If you trust me, then working with Dub shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I don’t trust
him
. It’s about eliminating any threat to the most important thing in my life, which is this relationship.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“No, I don’t know it. What I know is that I’m prepared to put you first, and you’re not prepared to do the same.”

Voicing this hidden frustration is freeing, but I hate the hurt that shadows her expression at my words.

“You think my career is more important to me than this relationship?” Her eyes add a demand to her question. “More important than you are?”

“What am I supposed to think? You want to continue working with a guy who tried to kiss you today because it might help your career.”

“A guy who thought I was single. I told you I’ll tell him I’m not.”

“True. This wouldn’t have happened if you would tell people we’re back together. Again, a move you’re making with your career in mind.”

“You said you agreed with that. Understood it, and you’re going back to it like it’s a strike against me now? If it came down to it, you know I’d choose you. But it doesn’t have to come down to it. That’s what I’m saying. Dub’s not a threat, and everyone will know we’re together after the tour. Are you good with that or not?”

I actually am. I don’t know why we’re fighting. Why I’m pressing this when I don’t have to. There’s this part of me still aching from the two months when she wouldn’t even take my calls. I made one wrong move and almost lost her. That part of me has been left uncertain, afraid I’ll make another wrong move. Or that she will. That part of me is afraid our love is as fragile as it is strong. And that part of me is about to fuck things up all over again. It makes me say and do dumb shit that will only keep pushing her away.

“I trust you,” I answer after a moment. “I guess I was just thrown by the kiss. I didn’t handle this well. I’m sorry.”

“Neither did I. If I—” Before she can finish, a rough cough rattles in her chest, making me feel like an inconsiderate asshole.

“Hey, up off that cold floor.” I sit on the edge of the tub again, gesturing for her to come to me. She climbs into my lap, looping her arms behind my neck. We’ve gone from snarling to snuggling in under sixty seconds flat.

“You may not believe it,” she says, caressing the back of my neck. “But you’re first. In all of this, you’re first, Rhys. I’ve dreamt of this chance, worked for this shot my whole life. I just want to do it right. It’s not worth losing you, though. Not worth losing this. You believe that?”

I look down at her, huddled close against my chest, shivering and heavy-lidded. She’s done. Exhausted from the rigors of today and the days before it. She has rehearsal in the morning and a show tomorrow night, and I have her up late arguing about shit that doesn’t even matter. Is this the lesson I should have learned the last time? Hold something you love too tightly and you’ll crush it? I can’t go through that again, and I won’t put Kai through it either.

I stand up, hoisting her light weight against my chest, walking back into the bedroom.

“I said do you believe that, Rhys?” Kai mutters into my shoulder.

“I do, baby.” I lay her down on the bed, crawling in behind her and pulling the down comforter over us both.

“You’re not just saying that?”

“Nope.” I turn off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness I hope will push Kai over the edge of exhaustion into the deep sleep her body craves. “I believe you.”

“Are we done talking?” She turns over to face me, her breathing slowing down to a sigh over my lips. “We can talk some more if we need to.”

“Let’s try not talking.” I pull her in, stroking her back until her body relaxes against me.

“I like it when we don’t talk.” Her voice gets softer the closer she gets to sleep. “I can be quiet with you.”

“Then do it.” I drop a kiss into her hair. “Be quiet with me, baby.”

And after a few minutes, the only sound in the hotel room is her deeper breathing. I lie perfectly still for a long time, but my thoughts remain in constant motion, our argument replaying in my head. I need to stay out of her business. I know it’s best for our relationship, but I can’t ignore my need to protect her from sharks like Malcolm and guys like Dub. There has to be a balance. Maybe I’ll ask Dr. Ramirez next week in our one-on-one session the best way to find it.

Once I’m sure she’s not waking up, I carefully roll out of bed and close the bedroom door, making my way to the front of the suite. Earphones plugged into my phone, I prop my feet up on the coffee table and submerge myself into Schumann. Chopin’s unconventional, whimsical compositions always creatively unstick me because he erased so many existing lines and drew his own. Schumann is for soul searching. He was a man divided, who literally created two personalities for himself, the dreamer and the rebel, and would sign his compositions based on which of the two helmed that particular piece. “Davidsbündlertänze” soothes one side of me and incites the other. One faction wants to protect Kai and intervene at every turn, and the other cautions me to give her space, to simply be there when she needs me. I’m still not sure if either side knows best as the song on repeat lulls me to sleep.

A firm knock on the door startles me awake. I gather my bearings, disoriented. I’m not under my piano, but I spent most of our one night on the couch. I’m cursing the waste when I peer through the peephole.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

According to my watch it’s barely eight o’clock, and Dub stands outside Kai’s hotel room. My hand is on the knob and turning before I think twice about it. Kai’s going to tell him about us anyway, right? She said it last night. Not to mention I can’t wait to see his face when I open this door.

This may not have been the right call, but it’s so worth it to see the shock, followed quickly by displeasure, his expression gives away.

“Gray.” His eyes narrow at the edges, his face pinching into a scowl. “What are you doing here?”

“You mean in Berlin?” I fight a smile, but it might come through just a little. Smugness is so classless, but I can’t help it. “Or in Kai’s room? I’m thinking neither is any of your business.”

Dub visibly stiffens, and I know if he could, he’d wrap those ham-sized hands around my throat.

“Look, I don’t mean to be an asshole about this . . .” I lean against the doorjamb.

“You don’t
mean
to? Oh, it just comes naturally, does it?” he asks. “So it’s a gift.”

Enough pleasantries. This son of a bitch kissed my girl yesterday and has the nerve to show up at her room first thing in the morning. Over-eager bastard. He needs to state his business and be on his way.

“What do you want, Dub?”

For a minute the look on his face is so exposed I have the answer to my question even though he doesn’t say a word. He wants my girl. Sorry. Shit outta luck, dude.

“I need to talk to Kai.”

“She’s still in bed.”

We watch one another for long seconds while the intimate implications of that statement sink in.

“I didn’t know you two were back together,” he finally says. “She never mentioned it.”

“Yeah, we wanted to avoid the media attention while she’s on tour.” I shrug. “Like I said, she’s still asleep, but I can give her a message for you.”

“I don’t need you to deliver messages for me.” He laughs, crossing his arms over his wide chest. “I assume you’ll be leaving soon, and I’ll still be here with her. You hate that, don’t you?”

“What I hate is the fact that you want my girl.” If he wants gloves off, they can come off. “And you can’t seem to grasp the fact that it’ll never happen.”

“Maybe you hate the fact that she just may like me, too.” He leans forward, squeezing his thumb and index finger together. “
Just
the tiniest bit. Maybe just enough.”

“She’s your friend, yeah. No accounting for taste.” I turn my mouth down at the corners, outwardly calm, inwardly feral. “But if you think there’s more on her end, you’re mistaken.”

“Ya sure about that, are ya?” His Irish accent thickens and his smile grows wider. “Seems to me you have a habit of foockin’ up, and maybe all I have to do is be around at the right time. And maybe I will be, yeah?”

Before I can form words to even tear into this asshole, a sound behind me catches my attention, and I’m sure Dub’s too. Kai shuffles into the suite, rubbing her eyes groggily, my wife beater hanging off one shoulder, a perky, rose-tipped breast exposed, dark hair clinging to her arms and shoulders.

“Baby, was someone at the—”

“Kai, get back in the room!” I snap, shifting to block Dub’s view.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know . . . I . . .” Her eyes get wide when she catches a glimpse of her choreographer in the hall. She drags the strap up over her shoulder and turns to dash back into the bedroom, the door slamming behind her.

When I turn back to face Dub, his mouth is set, expression grim. Maybe seeing her drove home that I’m the only one who gets to see her that way, who has her that way, and he never will.

“I hope you enjoyed the view.” Irritation still roughens my voice. “’Cause that’s the closest you’ll ever get. I promise you that.”

“Tell Kai I came by in case she wanted to grab breakfast before rehearsal,” he says, not addressing my promise. “We have a production meeting at nine, so make sure she’s not late.”

Without another word, he turns and walks down the hall. I close the door and head back to the bedroom. Kai sits on the edge of the bed, head buried in her hands. She looks up when I enter, cheeks pink.

“I had no idea he was here. Oh my God.”

“It’s okay.” I sit beside her, dragging her onto my lap and pressing a kiss to her lips. “He got an eyeful of what he’ll never have.”

She pulls back, searching my face.

“So I guess he knows we’re together, huh?”

“Sorry. I was asleep and didn’t think twice about answering the door. He was gonna find out anyway.”

“Yeah.” She nods, laying her head against my shoulder. “I’ll talk to him later. Explain what’s up. He’ll be fine.”

“He has no choice but to be fine.” I pause, looking for a way to say this without sounding insecure and jealous. “I’m serious about you not working with him beyond this tour.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” She slides off my lap, standing at the foot of the bed.

“We’re at the bridge, Kai.” I wrap my hands around the backs of her thighs, bringing her back to stand between my legs. “He as much as admitted he’s just biding his time. Waiting for me to fuck up again so he can make his move.”

“He said that?” She frowns, pushing one hand into my hair and cupping my face with the other.

“Pretty much.” I lean into her palm. “Look, I can’t make you do anything. I’ve seen where that gets me, but I
can
tell you when someone in your life wants me out of it. And Dub wants me out. You do what you want with that information.”

She stares at me unblinkingly for a few moments, and for the first time, I think I may have handled this the right way. I think the wiser part of me won this round because she nods, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Okay,” she says softly. “I’ll tell Malcolm we need to find someone new.”

There is so much inner fist pumping going on, but I keep a cool front, just nodding like I haven’t won this round.

“I overslept.” She climbs up on the bed, knees on either side of my legs, her ass in my lap. “I need to shower and get to this production meeting. I guess you have to go?”

“Yeah.” I press her back until we’re heart to heart. “Supposed to meet Kaos at his place around eleven.”

“I can’t believe you came all this way for one night.” She peers at me, a small smile on her lips. “Was it worth it?”

“You mean were you worth it?” I whisper into her hair.

After a second’s hesitation, she pulls back to study my face and nods.

“I’ll always move heaven and earth to be with you,” I assure her. “When it makes no sense. When it wastes time. When it’s hard. Doesn’t matter. If you ever wonder if you’re worth it, the answer’s always yes.”

Maybe every time I’ve said that before, it hasn’t gone much further than her ears. It hasn’t made it past her head to her heart. For some reason today I think it sinks in that I mean it. That there’s nothing in my life I wouldn’t forfeit to be with her. As crazy as it sounds, as quickly as it happened, it’s just there. It’s just true. And there’s nothing I would do to change it. Maybe it’s that realization that makes her mean it, too, because for the first time I believe her when she answers.

“And there’s nothing I wouldn’t give up for you.” She rests her forehead against mine, her eyes sober and set. “I live you.”