by M. L. Young
“I’d like that,” I said, much to his shock.
“Great,” he said, perking up, as if he weren’t expecting that response.
I texted Regan, letting her know what was up and that I would be home later tonight than expected. She replied, telling me to use protection, and I rolled my eyes and left it at that.
Kai’s house was nice—like really nice, the kind of nice you’d see in an architecture journal. It was modern, very clean-cut, and somehow totally him. A white box with dark gray accents, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a curvy driveway that put San Francisco to shame. The neighborhood was quiet, not a car or bright light in sight. The gate closing behind us was the only audible noise.
“This is my place,” he said, almost as if he was giving a presentation.
“It’s nice,” I said as I took it all in.
I’d driven by so many of these kinds of houses before but never once thought I would be going inside unless it was to take a kid away one day. They were popping up all over LA, these pillbox houses that looked like they had rocket boosters underneath them. It was an architectural homage to space more than anything else, I thought.
His door was about fifteen feet high, a massive structure in and of itself that moved like a feather on hydraulic hinges. Dimmed lights turned on as we walked inside. I walked towards the back and looked out over the hills. His house faced a canyon, with an unobstructed view of the wilderness and mountains of Los Angeles, though the city was visible off in the distance. Situated inside the second largest city in this country was an oasis of flora and fauna that helped make you feel like you were anywhere but this smog hole.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked. “I like to just stand here every morning, sipping coffee, and watch the colors bounce off the grass.”
“Meanwhile, I see my hairy Armenian landlord scratching his balls in his bathrobe most mornings,” I said, laughing.
“I think you deserve to see this just a little bit more,” he said, nudging me with a smile.
“How long have you been here?” I asked, setting my purse on the counter.
“About a year now. It was new when I bought it, though I didn’t have it built or anything. Just kind of stumbled on it,” he said.
“Does it ever get lonely being in a place like this all by yourself? I know I would be,” I asked.
“Sometimes, but sometimes it’s also nice. I’d rather be somewhere too big than somewhere too little. Plus, I can have a person here whenever I want, whether it’s a band mate, assistant, or whoever else,” he said.
“Like a girl,” I said, teasing.
“Like a girl,” he replied, without shame.
“Well, aren’t you going to show me around?” I asked.
“Of course, follow me,” he said.
His hallways felt like a mile if they were a foot. There were dozens of rooms, bathrooms, bedrooms, an office, and everything else you could imagine. He listed off the areas, and all I could hear were words without any real meaning behind them. How didn’t he get lost living here? I’d only been here for a few minutes and I’d need a map to find my way back outside.
“Downstairs is definitely my favorite,” he said, pressing a button on the wall.
“What is this?” I asked as he opened a door.
“My elevator,” he said, walking inside.
“What,” I said, stepping inside.
He had a small two- or three-person elevator that took us down into his basement. It wasn’t a true basement, more of a patio level that was exposed in the back, but what it held was excruciatingly expensive.
“This is my studio, where I practice and can record a song or album with no problems. I put it in so the guys can come over, or I can work on my own stuff. You could produce and publish a full professional album with the equipment I have in here,” he said.
“Are those all of your guitars up there?” I asked, pointing to the wall.
“Yup. A lot of them are my personal ones, but I also take one from the tour whenever we tour or play a memorable show. Once this tour is over I’ll get a new memory piece to hang,” he said.
“That’s awesome that you get to keep that bit of history whenever you play. It’ll be nice to look back on them later on in life,” I said.
“I think so too,” he said, with a smile. “Over here is my media room.”
We walked into a movie theater, a legitimate movie theater, filled with leather reclining seats, full surround-sound, a projector, and even a bar with a popcorn machine and candy counter. “How do you ever get anything done?” I asked.
“I treat myself with this space. When you have this to look forward to, it’s a little bit easier to work hard,” he said.
“Can we watch something?” I asked bluntly.
“Is that what you want to do?” he asked.
“I mean, yeah, it is. I still want to talk and everything, but doing it down here would be nice,” I said.
“Then it sounds like a date. Popcorn?” he asked.
“Don’t ever ask me if I want popcorn again. Always assume the answer is yes. Even if I say no, I really mean yes. I love popcorn,” I said, making him laugh.
I perused the candy counter, picking out some chocolate-covered raisins, before pouring root beer into a cup. He had a tap system, though with soda rather than alcohol, which I very much appreciated. Sometimes I thought it was my favorite drink in the world.
Going through his movie collection on a tablet, I watched as he swiped through new releases, classics, and everything in between. “Being you has its perks, huh?”
“You should see my music collection,” he replied.
Likely catering to me and wanting to make me feel comfortable, he put on a romantic comedy, one I’d seen about seven times but still recited and loved. He earned definite points for that play.
The movie flew by as we laughed, talked, and barely watched it in the background. He was so interesting, so intriguing, and the more I got to know him, the happier I was about deciding to give him that second chance.
With the movie just about over, my favorite scene coming up, I couldn’t help but feel sad that my night with Kai was ending. It was getting late, since the movie was just over two hours long, and my only time left with him was going to be the drive home, and who knew when I’d see him again.
We’d progressed a lot. He’d put his arm around me, and my butterflies were starting to come into play the more he touched me and gave me the physical contact I was beginning to crave. I wasn’t going to sleep with him, at least not tonight, though I was starting to believe that someday I would if things kept up this pace.
He turned to me, and without so much as a warning, kissed me. I closed my eyes, my stomach in turns, as I tried to process it. It felt natural, and quite good, honestly. It felt like it had been a lifetime since I’d been kissed, especially by somebody I was into. I put my hand on his face, my thumb rubbing gently on his stubbly cheek, before we both took in some air and went back into it.
His tongue started to move, attempting to court mine, which I allowed. He made me feel ways I hadn’t in a while, and I began to find myself more and more turned on, though I knew it was dangerous. I wanted him in this moment, for him to take me, to ravage me, but I had to pull back. I wasn’t going to be that girl.
“I can’t. It’s too much,” I said, pulling back.
“It’s not good?” he asked.
“It’s amazing, and that’s the problem. I can’t sleep with you, Kai. I’m not that girl,” I said.
“Whoa, who said anything about sex?” he asked.
“Oh, come on, we both know it was leading there. I like you, I do, you’re a really great guy, but I’m not ready for that yet. I guess I understand if you want me to go,” I said.
“Want you to go? No, why would you think that? I want you to stay. Stay the night in fact,” he said.
“I…I don’t know about that,” I said.
“No touching, at least not sexual, no sex, no
thing like that. I just want to have you close to me. I want to cuddle, and I want to wake up to you. I know that’s a little much, and you can say no, but I still can’t let this night end so quickly,” he said.
I looked at the clock. It was late, and it would take at least half an hour or more to get back home at this time. I was already a little tired, and I did notice he had a big king-sized bed with Egyptian cotton sheets that looked really soft and comfy.
“Okay, I’ll stay,” I said, my fatigue likely getting the best of me.
Kai turned off his electronics and grabbed my hand as we walked upstairs, all the way to the top, towards his bedroom. It felt weird, spending the night with a man and not just crashing to Netflix in my room, but I felt like I knew him more than I should have at this point. I felt safe with him, especially in this fortress of a house, and as long as he kept his promise of not trying to sex me up, then maybe this would work.
He gave me a band shirt and some jogger bottoms that I changed into. I looked good in them, in his band’s shirt, and he smiled as I came out of the bathroom as he was lying in bed. “You look so cute,” he said, grinning.
I set down my phone on the nightstand, seeing nothing from Regan, so I didn’t text her to tell her I was staying over. I crawled into bed and rested in Kai’s arms.
He ran his fingers through my hair, the way my grandmother used to when I was a girl, and I felt instantly tired and safe as my breathing became shallower. “Thank you,” he said.
“For what?” I asked, my arms around him.
“For giving me that second chance. I know I won’t let you down,” he said, the sound of his soft breathing against my ear like my personal sleep machine.
“Mmhm,” I mumbled, and he took the cue and turned off the lights.
I slowly drifted off before falling asleep within the confines of Kai’s arms. There was nothing better in this moment, and suddenly I started to wonder what this relationship, if I could call it that, had in store for me. I needed to dive in deeper and find out.
Chapter Eight
Kai
Waking up with a beautiful woman in your arms is one of life’s greatest pleasures. Waking up with a beautiful woman whom you like in your arms is even better.
Last night was a whirlwind and I couldn’t even believe it had really happened. I thought I’d lost my chance with Bianca, and rightfully so, but here she was, asleep on top of me, as I felt the nuances of her skin while the tips of my fingers traipsed across her. I wanted her, in every way really, but I knew that good things came to those who waited. She wasn’t something I could rush to have, but rather something to be waited for and savored.
I snuck out of bed and quietly walked downstairs before pulling out a pan and some food from the refrigerator. The sun was shining through my floor-to-ceiling windows, bouncing off the white Carrera marble countertops, while I listened to the soft sound of eggs sizzling in the pan. I put on some music, quietly enough so Bianca wouldn’t wake up, before pulling out a package of organic pasture-raised bacon that my shopper had insisted I get. I guess it was supposed to be healthier than the kind I grew up with.
“That smells good,” I heard from behind me, as the static-like sound of cooking bacon overpowered the room.
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” I said.
“Not at all. The smell woke me up gently,” she said.
“I thought I could make us a little breakfast. I’m not sure what you have going on today, but a good breakfast can make the rest of your day,” I said.
“I appreciate it,” she said, sitting down on a barstool at the counter.
“I’m sorry about last night,” she said.
“Sorry? Why would you be sorry? Last night was great,” I said.
“Ending things, you know, in the media room. I know blue-balling someone sucks,” she said.
“I’m fine,” I said, with a laugh. “I’m not mad or blue-balled at all.”
That was a lie, a big fat one. It was fine that we didn’t do anything, more than fine, but I was a little blue-balled. I didn’t want to make her feel bad or guilty or anything like that, though. I liked this girl, she wasn’t a one-night affair, and I knew that we’d get there at one point—hopefully. I just didn’t want her to feel like it needed to be forced or she needed to blow me in order to get a third date.
“Here you go,” I said, putting her food on her plate and sliding it over to her.
I smiled looking at her. Her hair was messy and she took small bites of the food. “What?” she asked, laughing a little.
“Just admiring,” I replied, turning around and making a plate for myself. I sat down next to her, my food disappearing a bit quicker than hers. She looked at her phone and sighed.
“I have to get going soon. I have an early afternoon class and I still have to go home and shower and all that,” she said.
“I can’t drive you, but I can call a car for you,” I said.
“That would be great, thank you,” she replied.
I told her to keep the clothes she wore to bed and maybe bring them back the next time she came over, which made her flash a small yet noticeable smile. “Going to miss me?” she asked.
“I’m going to miss everything about you,” I said, wrapping my arms around her. We swayed a little, as if in the wind, before I leaned in and kissed her cheek. She grabbed my hand, lacing her fingers with mine, before we walked downstairs and out to the car waiting just outside my gate.
“I’ll text you later?” she asked.
“Sounds like a plan,” I replied.
She leaned in and kissed me on the lips. I opened the car door and helped her inside, then waved as she drove off, the car soon disappearing around a bend. I locked up and went back inside. The house felt empty, even though she’d been here barely twelve hours. I’d forgotten how nice it was to like somebody again.
•••
“Little Kai has been going out and about,” Jamison, my band mate, said.
We were downtown in our record label’s offices for a meeting, and I knew I was in for a bit of hazing. “Yeah, yeah, get it out now, boys,” I said.
“I saw that picture of you on social media the other day. She good in the sack?” Brian, another band mate, asked.
“We aren’t sleeping together,” I said.
“What? Then why are you taking her out?” Jamison asked with a laugh.
“Not every relationship is based on sex, Jami. Sometimes you want something a little more,” I said.
“Yeah, most people do, but not you. You’re Kai Jackson, basically the biggest man-slut in existence. Shit, it isn’t erectile problems, is it?” Jamison asked, getting serious near the end and not just being an ass.
“My dick works better than yours, mate. I haven’t exactly been the best in the past, and now that the drugs and booze are out of my life I kind of want something else. I’m sick of just banging girls and then that’s it. This girl isn’t like the other ones,” I said.
“Wasn’t she at our last show, though? She was backstage,” Paul said.
“Her roommate won the tickets. She just went along with her. She isn’t a groupie,” I said, beginning to get a little annoyed.
“Just don’t want you to fall for the same kind of girl,” Paul said.
“She’s respectable,” I said, a tinge of annoyance in my voice.
I supposed I’d set myself up for this kind of treatment from the boys. I knew they were just joking around, not meaning any kind of malice towards me. They were like my brothers, and brothers mess with one another and sometimes beat each other up, that’s just how it goes. It was hard, though, trying to convince them that things were different—to convince them that I was different and that Bianca wasn’t like the other girls. When you only date and talk about the same type of girls, and then you meet someone nice, people could assume that she’s just like the others. They’d learn, though.
Bianca texted me towards the end of the meeting, talking about her professor, and suddenly
my annoyance disappeared. I was beginning to get infatuated with her. She was on my mind and I was thinking about her even when I should have been focused on other things. What was happening to me?
Chapter Nine
Bianca
A month passed and sometimes I wondered how my life ended up in this position. Me, a girl who was previously a bit jaded, now found comfort and solace in another person.
Things with Kai had been going about as well as they could in the best scenario. We were seeing one another regularly, about three or four times a week, and each time brought us together a little more. We hadn’t had sex, not even oral yet, though I found myself having a much harder time resisting the idea whenever I was alone with him.
I never felt like he was trying to force me, and he didn’t even try to suggest doing it. That was what turned me onto the idea more and more as time went on. It was sexy to me to have a man who was so secure with himself, a man who wasn’t whining about doing it or trying to rip my pants off every time I saw him. In fact, it made me want him to rip my pants off even more.
I called an Uber and drove over to his house, my bag in hand. This time, like many others in the past month, I was ready to spend the night. I tapped my foot anxiously in the backseat, excited to see him, before we pulled up to his gate and I got out of the car. “Need me to stay until you get in?” the driver asked.
“No, thank you. Have a nice night,” I said. I got out and he drove off.
The gate opened and I saw Kai standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, looking cool as he leaned against the frame.
I closed the gate and ran to him, my feet sliding against the ground, before I dropped my bag and jumped on him. “You’d think it had been a year since we last saw one another,” he said, laughing.