by Kate Stewart
“Fine,” he says when he pulls back. “I’ll make all the promises.”
That doesn’t reassure me. With men like Parker, there’s a fine line between a promise and a threat. I hope I haven’t set myself up for either.
Chapter Eleven
Grip
I HAVEN’T SEEN the Prodigy team this relaxed in weeks. We’re all chilling here at Rhyson’s place. It’s the quiet before a very big storm. Grip not only is my solo debut but also it’s Prodigy’s first release. It’s a big deal for us all. We needed this small block of time to blow off steam. It’s been so intense, and it will only intensify the closer we get to release day.
Max and Sarah are talking near the pool table. Neither of them know how to actually play, so they just hold the cues and lean on the table, trying to look cool. Rhyson’s playing Grand Theft Auto with Simon, one of the sound engineers. Several of the team members went swimming out back. The whole gang is here. Almost.
I check my watch again. I’ve been at Rhyson’s for thirty minutes and still no sign of Bristol.
“She called to say she’d be late,” Kai whispers, taking the spot beside me on the brown leather couch.
“Am I that obvious?”
Until I told Rhyson, no one else really knew about the week we shared. It was ours and no one’s business, but after seeing her with Parker last night, I feel like the butt of an eight-year joke. Like everyone knows how I feel, and I was a fool for holding out hope. For still holding out hope. I’m not prepared to give up yet. I wonder sometimes what will convince me to give up on the possibility of us.
“It isn’t that you’re obvious,” Kai says. “I just know how you feel.”
“Our plan isn’t working.” I offer her half a smile.
Kai actually suggested I let Bristol manage me to get closer to her. That if we were around each other all the time, she’d have to acknowledge her feelings, my feelings, whatever. Bristol had been trying to manage me for years, but I didn’t want to just be her job. Apparently, she’s now not only my manager, but also my pimp. It still burns me up that she handed me over to Qwest like some prize at the fair.
“You mean Project Proximity?” Kai grins and reaches for one of the brownies Sarita, their housekeeper, made.
“Yeah.” I shrug with phony carelessness. “Maybe Rhyson’s right. Maybe she wants a guy like Parker, and I should just give up.”
“Rhyson isn’t right. Not this time.” Kai mumbles around her brownie. “He’s biased. He’s so close to you both, he doesn’t want things to go south and become awkward. Not just personally. He’s thinking about the business, too, I’m sure.”
Kai laughs, the husky sound drawing Rhyson’s attention. He grins over at us . . . mostly at Kai, before returning his attention to the game.
“And he’s afraid Bristol would destroy you.” Kai’s eyes meet mine in a careful stare. Maybe she’s afraid of that, too.
“I know.” I grin because I ain’t scared. Not even a little bit. “Most brothers would be protective of their sisters, but I get it. Bristol’s a handful.”
I slant her a sneaky grin and hold my hands up for her inspection.
“But I got big hands.”
“Oh, God.” Kai shakes her head and chuckles. “Rhyson is protective of Bristol in his own way, but he thinks she’s too much like their mother.”
“She’s not.”
Kai pauses chewing to hold my eyes with hers.
“Bristol is like her mother, Grip. I think she’s aware of that, and you should be, too. It isn’t all bad.” She shrugs. “I’m like my father in a lot of ways, and we know his history.”
Kai’s father, a pastor, left her and her mother in Glory Falls, the small Georgia town where she grew up. Ran off with the church secretary and never looked back.
“Just because she’s like her mother, doesn’t mean she is her mother,” Kai continues. “Rhyson got away from that house, from his parents. Bristol wasn’t so lucky.”
“Are you saying Rhys doesn’t trust her?” I frown, because I know he does now. They've gotten past that.
“Of course not. I think Rhyson is self-aware and recognizes how much he’s like his parents, and how easily that can go badly if he isn’t careful.” Kai offers a tentative smile. “Maybe he’s just afraid Bristol won’t be careful with you.”
“I’m willing to take that risk.”
“Apparently, she’s not.” Kai leans over and squeezes my hand. “Yet.”
“Why couldn’t it be easy for us the way it was for you and Rhyson?” I wait for the incredulous look Kai gives me. Their journey was anything but easy.
“It’s funny you mention us, though.” Kai rests her hand on her belly. “Bristol reminds me a lot of myself.”
“Really?” If there were ever opposites, it would be Kai and Bristol. “You’ll have to elaborate.”
“I believe Bristol has feelings for you,” Kai says. “I’ve told you that before, but something holds her back. That’s how I was. I knew I had feelings for Rhyson, but I let all my hang-ups keep me from doing anything about it. I didn’t trust him or myself.”
“You think Bristol doesn’t trust herself?” I smack my lips derisively.
“Not just herself.” Kai’s eyes fill with sympathy. “I don’t think she trusts you either, but I believe she will.”
That’s the very hope I’ve been clinging to for years, but now I’m not as sure. I can’t believe I thought Kai was just another thirsty chick when Rhyson first started bringing her around. She’s the opposite of that, and of all the amazing things my best friend has had in his life, she’s the best. She’s the only one who sees what Bristol and I could be together.
“It’s about time you showed up,” Max says from the pool table across the room.
Kai and I follow the direction of Max’s smile. Bristol makes her way slowly down the steps to the rec room, still wearing sunglasses. The grim set of her mouth and faint lines bracketing her lips speak of a rough night. I wonder how rough it got with Charles Parker.
“Sorry I’m late.” Her voice a tired rasp, she pushes the sunglasses up into the hair screwed into a knot on her head.
“I hate you, Bris,” Sarah says, looking over Bristol’s narrow, ripped-knee jeans and long cardigan. “You look great even hungover. You are hungover, aren’t you?”
“Very much so.” Bristol tips her head back and closes her eyes. “Gah. Sid Vicious is playing in my brain.”
“Isn’t he dead?” Max squints his eyes and frowns.
“Max, I can’t with you today.” When Bristol opens her eyes, she looks right at me for a few seconds before looking away to Rhyson. “Hey, brother.”
“Bris, what’s up?” Rhyson glances away from the screen briefly. “I didn’t even know you could be hungover. You hold liquor like a bottle. I’ve never seen anything short of a tranquilizer lay you low.”
“Apparently,” Bristol says, settling onto the couch across from Kai and me, “they tranquilize vodka martinis now.”
“Where’d you have these vodka martinis?” I ask, addressing my first words to her since our confrontation at the bar last night.
She becomes preoccupied with the handle on her bag for a few seconds before lifting her eyes to mine. They’re slightly pink and puffy, more pewter than bright silver today.
“Um, Vegas actually.”
“Vegas? Last night?” Sarah plops onto the couch beside Bristol, jarring them both.
“For the love of God, it’s a couch, not a trampoline.” Bristol winces and raises a shaky hand to her forehead. “Yeah. Just with a friend.”
“Woman of mystery.” Max squeezes between Sarah and Bristol. “Give us all the details.”
“No.” She scoots over, her flat voice and flat eyes opaquing her thoughts from them, from me.
“Did you take anything, Bris?” Kai asks sweetly.
“You know,” Bristol says, mouth tipped to the left, “I didn’t. I was rushing and didn’t even think to.”
“C
ome on. We’ll get you something.” Kai presses her hand into the couch for leverage, and Bristol stands to help pull her the rest of the way.
“Whoa. Careful there, little mama.” Bristol smiles for the first time since she arrived. She’s already got a soft spot for her niece. “Let me help you.”
Rhyson’s eyes leave the screen and fix on his petite wife with her hand pressed to the small of her back. He and Bristol exchange a quick grin. He’s still watching Kai as she and Bristol climb the steps and leave the room.
“Dude!” Simon laughs triumphantly, pointing to his winning score onscreen. “That’s what happens when you take your eyes off the prize.”
“Oh, my eyes were on the prize.” Rhyson tosses the controller to the floor. “I’m out. Food? Sarita left raw meat. I think I can manage to get it to and from the grill without the fire department intervening.”
“Maybe I should handle the grill.” I follow him out onto the patio adjacent to the rec room. “Remember the last time you tried to grill?”
“Nothing was lost or destroyed,” Rhyson says.
“Unless you count Grady’s eyebrows.”
“God, he looked ridiculous for months.” Rhyson’s laugh booms over the memory of the uncle he lived with here in LA when he emancipated. “Too much lighter fluid. That was the problem.”
“No, you not knowing what the hell you were doing was the problem.”
Max and Sarah join us, stretching out on two lounge chairs and scrolling on their phones.
“Daaaaaaaaamn.” Max sits up on the lounge chair and flips his legs around to face Sarah. “Did you see Spotted?”
“No, what . . .” She checks her phone, eyes stretching. “Oh my God. Is this true?”
“Photographic evidence.” Max’s delighted laugh lights up his face. “Well, at least now we know who Bristol was with and what she was doing.”
My head snaps around when he mentions Bristol’s name. So does Rhyson’s. He beats me to the punch.
“What are you talking about?” He walks over to Max’s lounge chair. “What about Bristol?”
Max and Sarah pick up on the fact that neither Rhyson nor I find the prospect of Bristol on Spotted, one of the most viral gossip sites, as amusing as they do.
“Gimme your phone, Sarah.” I stretch my open palm to her, waiting until she reluctantly hands it over.
Well, shit.
Spotted has a pictorial chronicling Bristol’s date last night. Bristol and Charles Parker climbing into a helicopter. The two of them drinking in an intimate nook, the Vegas strip lit up behind them. Parker deplaning at a private hangar and getting into his Viper. Him pulling out of her driveway this morning. And then him kissing her in front of a jewelry store not even an hour ago.
Really? A viper? You can’t tell me this guy doesn’t have a small dick. He’s overcompensating for something. Has to be. But my girl . . . or I thought she would be my girl one day . . . is sitting on his fucking lap in Vegas drinking vodka martinis. And it looks like he spent the night. Every detail is a poisonous dart piercing my skin, toxic to my system. Jealousy, rage, resentment crawl through my blood.
“Charles Parker?” Max looks impressed. “One of the biggest fish you can catch. Go big or go home, Bristol.”
“What are you talking about?” Bristol asks, standing with Kai at the patio door. “Go big? Go home? What?”
“You dark horse.” Max crosses over to her, his grin and eyes eager. “Your secret’s out.”
Her eyes fly to mine, and we have a wordless conversation. My eyes ask questions that hers tell me I don’t want to know the answers to.
“What secret?” She frowns her confusion at Max.
“You’re all over Spotted,” Max drawls. “You and Charles Parker. How dare you keep all that juiciness from us.”
“What?” Panic widens Bristol’s eyes. “What the hell?”
“It’s all here for the world to see.” He hands her his phone. “Someone took the time to document your night out.”
Bristol’s expression darkens while she reads the Spotted post. By the time she hands Max his phone, she’s smoothed her face into a blank, shiny surface.
“Wow.” She takes the spot Max occupied on the lounge chair. “Must be a really slow news cycle if that’s all they have to talk about. No news there.”
“Are you kidding?” Sarah leans forward, her face alight with salacious speculation. “You’re dating one of the most eligible bachelors, like in the world, Bris. How could you keep that from us?”
“Bristol’s business is just that.” Rhyson flips steaks over the open flame. “She works hard and deserves some privacy when she finally takes some time to play. So leave her alone.”
His words come casually, but we all know he means it. He knows his sister as well as I do. She may be playing it cool, but this is not the kind of spotlight Bristol enjoys. She’s uncomfortable, and he doesn’t like it. They exchange a look, and I suspect there will be a follow-up conversation.
Meanwhile, I may as well be that steak Rhyson’s flipping on the grill.
Raw. Tossed. Seared. Hot.
I’m hot as hell. Riled like a horse with a bur under the saddle. If I don’t get out of here, I’ll explode all over this sunny day. And then there will be no secrets left. There won’t be a person on our team who doesn’t know how bad I have it for Bristol. Or how little she cares. And how sick to my soul I am of all this shit.
“I’m gonna head out,” I tell Rhyson at the grill.
“Marlon, no.” He stops flipping meat and gives me a searching look. He knows what this is about. “Dude, stay. Food’s almost done. We can—”
“I actually have a flight to catch.” I lean over and do the man pound-thump to his chest.
“Flight where?” His eyes move over my shoulder, I presume to his sister, before settling back on me.
“I got a few days off. I’m going to New York.”
“But—”
I turn away from him and address everyone else.
“Yo. I’m gonna bounce, guys.” I fist pound Max and Simon. Give Sarah a quick hug. “Got a plane to catch. I’ll be back next week.”
I head over to Kai, ignoring Bristol as she gets up from the lounge chair even though I feel her eyes on me. I feel her eyes on me all the time, but maybe I imagined it was more than it really is. After seeing those pictures of her with Parker, knowing he wants to marry her, knowing that she’ll probably do it and be miserable for the rest of her life just like her mother, I’m sick of trying to crack her code. I’m done deciphering how what she actually wants differs from what she says she wants. She says she wants Parker? I’ll take her at her word.
“Take care of my niece while I’m gone.” I leave a quick kiss on Kai’s cheek.
“Don’t go.” She grabs my wrist to stop me from pulling away, her dark eyes worried. “Grip, I’m sure that—”
“I’m not sure.” I cut off whatever assurances she would offer. “Not anymore.”
Brushing past Bristol standing there as still as a statue, I head back into the house, through the rec room, and up the stairs. I’m in the foyer at the front door when the clack of heeled footsteps catches up to me.
“Grip.” Bristol’s voice at my back stops me with my hand on the door. “When were you going to tell me you were leaving town?”
I turn to face her but don’t take my hand off the door handle. If I keep it in my hand, maybe I won’t lose sight of the reasons I need to go.
“Bristol, I’m leaving town.” I turn back to the door. “Bye.”
“Grip, wait. Talk to me.”
Her touch on my arm stops me. Scalds me. I hate wanting her like this. Constantly. Futilely. I lean against the door, indicting her with a narrowed glance. She wants to talk? Let’s talk.
“You fucked him, didn’t you?”
Her long lashes flutter in a rapid blink before lowering over her eyes. I’ve caught her off guard. She steps back, her hand falling away. A deep breath fills her chest and whoos
hes past her lips. She looks at me, biting her lip, but doesn’t answer.
“Tell me.” My words are chipped with stone. “Did you fuck Parker last night?”
She looks up at me, a spark of defiance lifting her chin like it’s none of my business.
“Yes.”
Such a softly spoken word, but it slices me down the middle like I’m a cadaver. A humorless stretch of my lips is all I can manage.
“You must have laughed at me.”
“I didn’t.” She closes her eyes, shakes her head. “I never did.”
“On the roof the other night when I went on and on about how neither of us have been in a relationship in years, when you were already in one.” A laugh hacks at my throat. “Can you believe I thought you were waiting for me? When all along you were waiting for him? Some medieval power couple alliance shit your parents drew up years ago.”
“It isn’t like that. You don’t understand what—”
“Was it good?” I straighten, stepping close, invading her space. My voice, a dark rumble in my chest, boils over between us. “Did Parker figure out how to make you come? Did he fuck you again this morning at your house? In your bed? Did he find the vibrators in your nightstand? Did you show him how you like it, Bristol?”
“Stop.” She tips her head back to watch me, bright eyes welling with hurt. “I hate the way you’re talking to me, the way you’re looking at me like you don’t know me. Please stop.”
I grab her hand and press it to my heart.
“Do you have any idea what we could be together? Hell, what we already are?” The hot words sear my lips. “It’s rare and real and you just keep spitting on it. You just keep ignoring it. Ignoring me. And I’m so fucking over it.”
She stands there in silence, eyes fixed on her hand over my heart, the muscles in her throat working as she swallows.
“You haven’t asked me because obviously you don’t care,” I go on, my heartbeat kicking into her palm. “But I didn’t sleep with Qwest last night.”
When she looks at me, surprise flickers through her eyes before she veils them with her lashes again.
“You don’t want to know why a guy like me would turn down top-shelf pussy?” I ask, deliberately crude.