“Uh . . . I’m still here,” Grip says. “Don’t start making out. Remember Gep’s innocent, virgin eyes.”
Gep’s gruff hack of a laugh joins the others. I’m positive the ex-CIA operative hasn’t been innocent or a virgin in decades.
“In all seriousness,” Rhyson continues. “Qwest likes you a lot.”
“What gave you that idea?’ Grip asks. “The way she practically dry humps me onstage every time we perform? Maybe I’ll wear a condom for our set tonight.”
I find myself smiling listening to them laugh.
“She’s a sweet girl,” Kai defends.
Kai actually pointed Qwest my way when the rapper asked about meeting Grip. They’ve developed some kind of odd friendship. Odd because Qwest may be sweet in her own way, but she’s a diva. She and I would still rip each other’s hair out. Kai doesn’t have a drop of diva in her body.
“She’s very sweet,” Grip agrees. “I’ve been surprised by how sweet she is. And smart. And gorgeous. And funny. She’s actually kind of amazing.”
That needle makes another pass through the fibers of my heart as I listen to Grip’s glowing words for Qwest. Why wouldn’t he think those things?
“And let’s not forget that asssss!” Grip laughs.
Seriously. The girl’s ass has its own hash tag. I’m pretty sure it’s insured. Rhyson and Gep join in the laughter, but Kai refuses.
“Does it always come down to that?” Kai sounds only slightly outraged. She has room to talk since she has “assets” in that area herself.
“No,” Grip answers. “I like legs and breasts, too.”
“Both of which Qwest had the last time I checked,” Rhyson says.
“Oh, you checked, did you?” Kai asks.
“Not like that,” Rhyson rushes to say. “I mean, not at all like that. It’s just her—”
“Dude, just stop,” Grip laughs. “That’s a no-win grave you’re digging for yourself. I may not be married, but even I know that.”
“Rhyson, to misquote Mean Girls,” Kai says. “Stop trying to make Qwest happen.”
My brother and Kai are film geeks and could talk in nothing but movie quotes for days. How I ever thought they weren’t perfect for each other, I’ll never know.
“Maybe it isn’t Qwest.” Some of the laughter fades from Rhyson’s words. “I’m just saying I know how important family is to you. I don’t want you wasting any more time than you have to pining for my sister when she hasn’t budged all these years. How long are you gonna wait?”
I glance through the crack again and see Rhyson holding Kai even tighter, his chin on her shoulder and her temple leaned against his head. With Rhyson’s hand splayed across her baby bump, they’re the picture of marital bliss. Happiness personified. Grip’s eyes reflect the same emotions roiling inside me. Maybe a little envy. Maybe a little doubt. He’s probably asking himself the questions Rhyson asked of him.
What is he waiting for? Me? To change my mind? I won’t. It shouldn’t be me. He needs to see that, and I know what I need to do to make sure he does.
Grip
THE LIGHT KNOCK on the dressing room door interrupts my conversation with Rhys and Kai. And Gep, if I count his non-verbals as conversation, which I pretty much have to since he barely speaks.
“Come in.” I expect a stagehand to tell me it’s almost time, but it’s Bristol.
God, she’s beautiful.
I’d like to kick everyone out, lock the door with on us on this side, and fuck her against the wall. She could keep those heels on, too. I can imagine them digging into my butt while I tear that ass up.
I’m not a gentleman.
I feel like I’m channeling Uncle Jamal for a moment. Maybe Rhyson’s right. Maybe she needs a guy wearing a suit accessorized with a stick up his ass. Tonight, she looks like the definition of class.
Those heels are the color of tangerines and match the cropped top showing off the golden skin of her stomach. The long sleeves cling to her arms, and the narrow white skirt hugs her hips, ass, and the infinity of her legs. The coppery streaks stand out in the dark hair parted down the middle and pulled back at her neck.
“Hey.” She hands me a steaming mug of lemon-scented something or other. “For your voice.”
It takes no effort to hold her eyes with mine when I accept the drink. I will her to remember our bodies pressed together on the roof under a full moon. She’s wearing blush, so I can’t tell if she’s flushing or not under my stare, but she gives nothing else away so I can’t know for sure.
“How’s my niece today?’ She rubs Kai’s little belly.
“She’s good, Auntie Bristol,” Kai says affectionately.
“What’s up, brother?” Bristol musses Rhyson’s hair with her knuckles.
“Nothing much. Just supporting our artist.” Rhyson swats her hand away and grins at her. “Excellent job tonight, as usual.”
“Thanks.” Bristol checks the items on my dressing room table. She’s anal about our riders, and I know she’s making sure everything we requested is there.
“I talked to Danny today.” Approval lights Rhyson’s eyes when they rest on his sister. “He says you laid down the law and got things straightened out for their show when no one else could. He couldn’t stop singing praises of your bad assery.”
“It was nothing. I’ll probably join them on the road for at least one stop. Maybe after Grip drops.” Bristol leans against my dressing room mirror to face us. “Kai, if you weren’t so preggers, we’d get to hear you tonight.”
“Small mercies.” Kai rubs her belly and allows herself a wry smile. “Or not so small. I’m sorry I can’t perform our song, Grip.”
My first single from the album was a collaboration with Kai. We got the video in the can, but she ended up pregnant and having some complications that kept her from performing live. The song still stayed at number one for weeks.
“Don’t think twice about that.” I grab her hand. “You just keep growing my niece in there.”
“If she gets any bigger,” Kai says, toggling a smile between me and Rhyson. “I’ll pop.”
“Soon,” Rhyson says with a tender smile.
“Well, I love the single with Qwest.” Kai’s shoulders start moving to the song she must hear in her head. Not only is she a great singer but also an incredible dancer. One of Prodigy’s most versatile artists, she’ll start working on her debut solo album soon after the baby arrives.
“My favorite line of ‘Queen’,” Kai continues. “Is the no one sees your crystal crown lyric.”
“Neruda,” Bristol and I say in unison.
Surprise locks my eyes with hers when she makes the connection between my current single and Neruda’s poem “The Queen.” Maybe the book I gave her meant something to her after all. Or am I doing what Rhyson said I do? Wasting my time and reading too much into things that don’t mean anything?
“The poet?” Surprise blooms on Kai’s pretty face, her tilted eyes sliding between the two of us. “You’re a fan, Grip?”
“Huge fan.” My eyes haven’t left Bristol’s face since she mentioned Neruda, my favorite poet. “I didn’t realize you were, Bristol.”
“Lucky guess.” She shrugs and straightens from the dressing room table.
“You’re still coming tomorrow, right, Bristol?” Kai tucks into the crook of Rhyson’s arm.
“Tomorrow?” Bristol frowns and screws up her face. “I should know this, right?”
“Lunch at our house. The whole Prodigy team is coming over.” Kai laughs and rubs her baby bump. “You have just a few things going on, so I’ll give you a pass on forgetting.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll be there. One o’clock?” Bristol asks.
“Right,” Rhyson says. “You want your favorite? Empanadas?”
Bristol and I exchange a quick look. There’s no way she isn’t recalling last night on the roof. I hope she still feels my hands all over her because I still taste her. I’d back her into a corner and taste her again right now if it wouldn’t horrify Rhyson. He swears up and down that Bristol would destroy me if we ever get together. He doesn’t realize that’s a risk I’d take every day and twice on Sunday. I’m not sure he really believes I’m serious about Bristol. Hell, Bristol may not think I’m serious. Kai would probably start cheering. She’s pulling for us if no one else is.