One Song: book two in the one series

by Best, Victoria J.

  “Would you mind reading over this proposal for me? I’m planning to submit it to a few former clients and agents I know from my New York days. They are all based out here.”

  Rhys nodded, passing me the baby. I stood up, skirting around him with a wide berth, though our arms brushed in the small office as he swapped places with me at the desk. Silently, I tried to calm my racing heart at the contact, ignoring the spot on my arm that now tingled because of it. I didn’t need to see his face to know he felt the same way. It was present in the stiff set of his shoulders as he settled into the desk chair and leaned over my laptop.

  I watched him from the doorway, putting as much space as I could between us without leaving the room as he read. My heart began to pound for an entirely different reason now—the anxiety I felt at his response to my proposal growing by the minute. When he finally turned around, I was practically sweating.

  “Wow, Nat. That’s great. As a matter of fact, I’m so impressed, I’m ready to convince the rest of the guys in the band to go with you.” His eyes locked with mine and I knew he wasn’t just blowing smoke.

  “Really? Are you sure? They probably won’t go for it.” I was downplaying, something I never used to do before. It was like once I decided to start being a better person, I worried more about what others thought of me. None of this made any sense.

  Rhys shook his head. “No, they would totally go for it. Especially once I give them this.” He pointed to the screen as he spoke. “Besides, after what you told me your dad did when you told him you were leaving, I don’t really want his company working with us anymore.”

  My stomach flipped again from his words and the protective way he said them. It was stupid to feel like I wanted him to be on my side, especially since I had been pushing him away for months, but I did.

  “Well, I’ll get these submitted today then. Do you want to bring it to your band personally or should I send it to them myself?” Excitement bubbled in my chest with the new business venture I was embarking on. It felt good to build something of my own.

  “I’m going to call them first, tonight, but you can send it to them tomorrow. I think they’ll be on board but I don’t want them to feel ambushed about the change. They should hear it from me first.”

  I nodded. It made sense.

  Rhys stood up, pushing the chair in as he stood, and walked towards the doorway. I was still standing there, holding Christopher against my chest like a shield as he stopped in front of me. He was too close again, taking up all my air space, and if I wasn’t holding Christopher, I was sure our bodies would be touching. I wanted to move, I had to move, but I couldn’t. My feet were immobile, stuck to their spot on the floor as our eyes locked.

  “I’m really proud of you, Natalie. For doing this, I mean. Not everyone would have been brave enough to start over from scratch, the way you are, when they could have taken the easy way out with family money.”

  His words washed over me, the same raspy tone of voice I remember from hearing him sing over a year ago at Madison Square Garden captivated me. Somehow, his words of approval meant more than any of the thousands of false platitudes my dad offered me over the years. Rhys was being honest, sincere, where my father had only been buttering me up so I would do what he wanted.

  “Thanks.” My voice was barely a whisper.

  Rhys leaned in as if he couldn’t hear what I said, his face close to mine. I took in a sharp breath, holding it until I couldn’t any longer, but still he remained too close. Before I could back away or even flinch at the contact, he brushed a light, chaste kiss against my slightly parted lips, planted his hands on my shoulders, and pivoted around me, leaving me stunned and speechless in my office.

  * * *

  “So, in conclusion, my new agency, Rising Star PR, will be representing only musicians based on the West Coast.” I swallowed, my throat dry, as I finished up the fifth phone call of the morning.

  This one was with the manager of a solo pop artist, Isabel Garcia, who my father was currently representing. But I had it on good authority Isabel was tired of having to fly to New York for meetings with him—this gave me the upper hand.

  “I’ll have to speak with my client, obviously, but Izzie always liked working with you. And you know how much she hates flying into New York for anything besides a show date.” Her manager chuckled as he spoke, but I could tell he was a little anxious to bring her my proposal.

  “Obviously, you will have to speak with Miss Garcia,” I repeated his words, “but I’m confident that once she reads the proposal herself—after I email it to you, of course—she will agree to go with my agency.”

  Another uncomfortable chuckle came through the line. “Right. Right. When would you like an answer?”

  “By the end of the week. This way, we can sort everything out before her next tour date, which I know is coming up in two months.”

  I wasn’t deliberately trying to poach my father’s clients, not really, and not to get back at him. But I did cultivate many relationships with many of the people I worked with before. They liked me because I was straightforward and got things done for them. And my dad trusted me to take good care of certain clients.

  “Okay. We’ll talk soon.”

  I disconnected the call and set my phone down on the desk. Standing, I stretched my back, hearing it crack as I moved, stiff from sitting most of the morning. The last few days had been jampacked with phone calls and meetings as I tried to get my new agency off the ground. Having Rhys here to help out with Christopher was a gift and I was dreading him leaving in two days because of it. And because I was finally able to admit I would miss him, though I would never tell him that.

  But over the last week, with Rhys’s help, I managed to woo back five clients, with a possible three more. This didn’t even count his band. Rhys called them yesterday but didn’t tell me what they said about it yet. In order to not be a nag, I hadn’t asked him, though I was dying for his answer. I told myself it was because the more clients I had, the more credibility I could build out in LA. But the truth was, I wanted to have a reason to see him, since being with him for any other reason was out of the question right now.

  “Done?” I heard Rhys’s voice behind me and turned around.

  Not for the first time since he had been staying with me did I find myself at a loss for words when he snuck up on me. It wasn’t just how handsome and sexy he was, it was also his presence, the way he said my name, the way he held Christopher. All of those things together made my heart catch in my throat when I saw him, my stomach somersaulting in a way that made me feel a little nauseous. Maybe it wouldn’t be so awful when he left. I could pretend I wasn’t having these feelings.

  “Yeah, just finished up. Now we wait,” I said with a small shrug, trying to downplay my anxiety.

  Rhys entered the room and for the first time I realized Christopher wasn’t with him. He must have seen the puzzled look on my face because he smirked.

  “I left him out back,” he said, his eyes full of humor.

  “Ha ha,” I said, rolling my eyes at him.

  “I put him down for a nap. Can you believe it?” The surprise in his voice was endearing and I found myself smiling, my chest tight with an emotion I couldn’t recognize.

  “Wow. I’m impressed. Without any help.”

  “I thought for sure he would protest and cry for you, but I think he’s getting used to me being here.” His eyes dropped as he spoke and his brows knit together, and I wondered why he was suddenly sullen.

  “What?” I forced myself to ask him what was wrong even though I was raised to ignore conflicts of the emotional kind.

  “Well, I was just thinking about how Christopher is finally getting used to me, and I’ll be leaving in two days.” His frown deepened and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans, his shoulders slumping.

  Guilt gripped my chest. I thought moving closer would help Rhys’s relationship with Christopher, but it was still so hard when he lived two hours
away.

  “Maybe you don’t have to go so soon?” The words flew out of my mouth on their own volition, before I could even process what I said.

  “Really?” Rhys’s head snapped up and his eyes met mine. There was hope in their blue depths and I bit my tongue against taking it back. How could I take his son away from him when I had already deprived him of a relationship with Christopher for so long?

  “Yeah, I mean, you said you don’t have to go to San Francisco until the end of April, right? That means you can stay another week and a half. Spend some time with Chris. I’m gonna need all the help I can get right now anyway, with the new business and everything.” I released a little nervous giggle.

  What the hell was I doing?

  “Are you sure? I know I kind of invited myself, and I’ve been sleeping all over your living room.” He ran a hand through his shaggy hair nervously. This was the first time I noticed any anxiety from him.

  “Don’t worry about that. I’m going to have the furniture delivered for the guest room so that whenever you are in LA, you can stay anyway. Be closer to Christopher.” I added the last part hastily so there was no confusion. “If you would like that?”

  “Are you kidding? That would be awesome. Maybe we could even arrange it so I could visit every so often, even if I didn’t have a show. I love being here with him.”

  That same emotion from before found itself solidly lodged in my chest again. “Chris loves it too. I can tell. He’s been so happy and vocal since you’ve been staying.”

  And I need you here. The frightening admission made me take a step back, bumping my butt on the desk.

  “You okay?” Rhys asked as I stumbled and tried to right myself, emotionally more than physically.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Being a little clumsy.” I gave another awkward giggle.

  “And, just to check again, you are okay with me staying a little longer?” Rhys moved further into the room, halting directly in front of where I stood.

  My hands went behind me, gripping the desk edge so hard to steady myself, my fingertips hurt. I nodded, unable to speak for a moment. He was staring at me like he was going to devour me once more, his usually bright blue eyes turning a darker shade, like a thunderstorm was on the horizon.

  “Natalie,” he growled my name under his breath as he stopped in front of me. “Are you sure? Because if we spend more time together, alone, I don’t know if I will be able to keep my promise.”

  Why was he telling me this? Did he want me to tell him to go? Did he want me to tell him to stay? What did he think would result from his admission?

  “I—” The words wouldn’t form, caught in my parched throat. I wanted to tell him I didn’t want it, that I didn’t want him to stay because I didn’t trust myself. But I couldn’t because I would be lying.

  “That’s what I thought. As long as we’re on the same page, and I don’t feel like I’m taking advantage of you or your need to make amends for some invisible evil you caused me.”

  “I don’t…” I started but didn’t get a chance to finish my protest because he closed the distance between the two of us, his arms circling my waist, pulling me flush against him.

  I tilted my head up to look at him, to finish my sentence, to tell him to stop, maybe, but he lowered his mouth to mine and then I was lost. All coherent thought escaped, and I forgot the reason I was going to tell him to stop. I forgot why I wanted him to leave and why I wasn’t supposed to want this. There was no fight left in me when I was in Rhys’s arms, no objections. My past faded away as his tongue pushed between my lips. My sins dissolved when I kissed him back, our tongues warring, my arms around his neck as I pulled him down to meet me. I couldn’t remember why this was supposed to be wrong and why I didn’t deserve to feel something other than the guilt, shame, and loneliness I had been feeling for months.

  Rhys lifted my ass onto the same desk I had been gripping for dear life moments earlier. I spread my legs, wrapping them around his hips as he slotted his body into mine, fitting perfectly against me as if our bodies were carved out for one another. Our chests were touching, our hands exploring and my body on fire. Everywhere his hands trailed along my exposed skin felt like it was scorched from his touch, sending my senses into a tailspin.

  I wanted him, right here on this desk, and I hadn’t felt this urgency since the first night we were together behind the Garden. It frightened me, but I also knew if I pulled away, if I made an objection, he would stop and I would let him go. But I didn’t want him to stop, just like I didn’t want him to stop that first night. I wanted him to fill the lonely void that had enveloped me since long before Christopher was born. To be the one who I was able to lean on, even if just for a little longer, before I had to take care of myself again.

  Rhys pulled back, briefly, and panic began to fill my chest. He didn’t say a word, but looked me straight in the eye and cocked his eyebrow slightly, as if to ask me what I wanted to do. I nodded and that was all that go-ahead he needed.

  After that, everything went from zero to hundred pretty quickly. Clothes were tossed to the floor, the sounds of our ragged breathing and the rip of a condom wrapper the only sounds in the room. He met me on the floor, using our discarded clothes as a bed of sorts, never missing a beat. Rhys covered my body with his, positioning himself between my legs, pressing at my entrance. I took a deep breath, arching my hips upward to take him, all because I was wet and ready, and I didn’t want to wait another moment. This was what I needed, consequences be damned. In one swift thrust, he buried himself inside of me, to the hilt, and I let out a soft moan at being filled by him.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered next to my ear, his breath tickling my neck and causing me to shiver as he began to move slowly.

  “Yes, don’t stop,” I breathed the words on a groan.

  Though we were frantic to get to this point, he didn’t rush now, taking his time with each thrust, the length of him igniting the nerves in my clit, making me writhe. I hiked my legs up on his hips higher, my nails gripping his shoulders as he continued to torture me slowly with each movement. I gritted my teeth with the need for a release, my orgasm building steadily each time he pulled out and plunged back in lazily. His biceps bulged next to my ears where he braced himself, and I could tell he was holding back.

  The last time, and the one before that, we came together with magnetic force, as if propelled by another force we had no control over. This time, it was different. Sex with Rhys was unlike any other I had experienced, not that I had as much experience as I would have liked others to believe.

  With Jackson, it was emotionless, rushed, and I felt like I was always struggling to give him what he wanted. There was no love there, and why I had ever thought there was I will never know. But with Rhys, from the very start, when I didn’t even know his name, there was always something else. Something that ignited inside of me the moment we touched each other, burning out of control like a California wildfire. It was terrifying but awe-inspiring.

  Opening my eyes, I slid my hands down the hard planes of his back, gripping his ass with both hands, and pulled him tight against me. I needed more, wanted him to let go because I was ready to let go. I was ready to feel all of him.

  I didn’t have to utter a word. Rhys leaned all the way over me, wrapping his arms underneath of me, his hand lifting my ass higher before he pulled out once more. This time though, instead of slow and steady, he slammed his body back against mine. I whisper-yelled his name into his ear, our faces side by side, the stubble on his cheek rubbing mine raw but I didn’t care. This was what I wanted. I was done with the soft and slow.

  Seconds later, the orgasm tore through me like a tidal wave, my body convulsing around him as he drove into me without stopping. I mouthed his name again, aware that I had to be quiet despite our recklessness, or maybe because of it. I wrapped my limbs around Rhys again, holding on for dear life as another orgasm built unexpectedly, climbing together this time, swiftly, before falling from the precipice
into our release all at once. He buried his face in my shoulder, grunting as he came, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

  We collapsed in a heap on the floor, his weight braced on one elbow so he didn’t crush me. His head rested against my chest, and I drew lazy circles on his back with my fingers. I didn’t want to move because then we would have to discuss what happened, would have to face the fact that being friends was off the table. So we lay there, just a little longer, with our eyes closed, and pretended we didn’t just make everything a hell of a lot more complicated.

  31

  Rhys

  Christopher’s cry rang through the house, snapping me from the sex-induced stupor I was in. I pushed up, my eyes meeting Natalie’s. There were questions there, ones I knew she wanted answers to, ones I knew I didn’t have the answers to. Not because I didn’t know, but because I wasn’t sure how she wanted to proceed. If it were up to me, if I had to make the choice, I would choose them. Every time. But I knew Natalie had reservations.

  “I’ll get him while you get dressed,” I said, disengaging from her, disposing of the condom, and pulling my jeans on.

  She nodded, averting her eyes now.

  Shit. I hoped she wasn’t going to shut down on me now.

  “I’ll be right back, Nat. We need to have a conversation.”

  I didn’t wait for a response, turning on my heel towards Christopher’s room. He was red-faced and mad by the time I got there, but stopped once I scooped him up. I changed his diaper—it got easier every time—before changing his clothes and walking back to the office. When I got there, Natalie was fully dressed, her dark hair hanging in tousled waves around her face. She looked beautiful, and when our eyes met, I worried I had just made the biggest mistake I could have made. I would have gladly stopped, even though she didn’t tell me to, if it meant I didn’t have to give her up. But the look I saw in her eyes made fear bloom in my chest.