Chapter Ten

Chapter TenHearing my intercom buzz, I paused my fingers on my guitar strings. It took a few moments to locate my phone—it had slipped between the orangery’s sofa cushions. I plucked it out of the gap and brought up the CCTV footage on my screen. A familiar range rover was idling outside my gates, practically surrounded by the reporters who’d taken to camping outside my home.I allowed Kaiser entrance with the press of my thumb to the screen. Another press of it closed the gates the moment his car passed through. That didn’t seem to stop the reporters from crowding them.Predictably, the pictures that were taken of us at the hospital ten days ago had found their way online. The media had pounced on how ‘sweet’ we apparently looked together. And idiotic rumors began to circulate literally the next morning …Some ‘sources’ apparently claimed that he’d left Camila for me.Others maintained that I’d comforted him after his breakup and we’d then ‘fallen’ for each other in the process.There were some who actually claimed that he’d moved to Redwater because I was pregnant with his child and that we’d secretly married in Vegas recently.Unreal.My friends had cracked up at the latter rumor, though not before tossing a bucketload of shit at me for not calling them at the hospital when Judy was admitted. They’d forgiven me easily enough, understanding that my head had been a mess that day.I’d thought that Kaiser might put some distance between us after the rumors started. But when I’d spoken of them, he’d shrugged and said, “There’ll always be rumors. Ignore them. They’ll lose traction eventually.”I was still waiting for that to happen.Suspecting that he’d be parking in my driveway any moment now, I put aside my guitar and stood. I hadn’t put in much effort with my appearance today—I was dressed in only my sweats and hadn’t applied even an ounce of makeup. But I wasn’t feeling self-conscious about it. He’d caught me in this state several times, since he’d taken to turning up whenever he felt like it—invitations not required, apparently.He didn’t ever text or call in advance to let me know that he was coming. Nope. He just boldly showed up, expecting entry. But as I liked having him around and he was such a delicious treat to look at, I hadn’t complained about it.Judy, of course, was thrilled that he spent time here. She took every opportunity to get to know him. And I got the feeling that he’d grown to like her.Not that he was super friendly with her or anything. He didn’t pay her more attention than he paid most people. Nor did he smile at or laugh with her.But … he talked to her. Willingly. Respectfully. He checked that she was taking care of herself. He bought her freaking birdfeed so that they could together watch as her cats decimated any feathered visitors. He also occasionally joined her outside to walk and play with her dogs—though only on my grounds, due to the hovering reporters.Padding through the house, I rolled my eyes as I recalled the time she’d asked him to fix a leaky tap for her—which he had. I was pretty sure that there hadn’t been anything wrong with the tap prior to him arriving at the house. I strongly suspected that she’d done something to the damn thing, but she’d admitted to nothing.Although it would be fair to say that he actively sought out my company, I wasn’t quite as excited about it as Judy. Unlike her, I wasn’t sure if it truly meant anything. Kaiser wasn’t a person who’d hesitate to tell you how he felt. If he had an interest in turning our arrangement into something more, I was certain that he’d have told me.But he hadn’t.And it wasn’t like he behaved any differently toward me. Aside for the time he’d comforted me at the hospital, he was never affectionate. He not only rarely touched me outside of sexual situations—not even to kiss me hello or goodbye—he rarely touched me unless we were at the Vault.Also, he still didn’t call or text unless the subject matter was related to the club. We never had meals or drinks anywhere but at the lounge, aside for the day he’d eaten dinner here after Judy came home from the hospital. More, he never invited me over to his place or suggested that we go out in public together.It was highly possible that he was simply visiting me regularly because he felt confident that I wouldn’t mistake it for him wanting more. Even my friends—hopeful though they were that I might be wrong—agreed that this was likely the case. He’d given me no reason to think anything else.Reaching the front door, I opened it wide just as Kaiser came striding toward it looking as tempting and rugged as always. I smiled. “Hey.”He didn’t smile back, of course. Nor did he greet me with anything other than a tip of his chin. Typical.I stepped aside to let him pass. “You came empty handed again.”He cast me an impatient look. “I told you, I don’t shop.”And I didn’t need or want him to, but I liked to tease him wherever possible—not merely because it was amusing, but because he was too damn serious. “But you could ask whoever orders your food to add wine or chocolates or flowers to that order.”“We aren’t dating,” he pointed out. “And I don’t do romance anyway. Neither do you. You just can’t refrain from needling me.”I tilted my head, admitting, “It’s more like I don’t want to refrain.”He sighed, shaking his head.“Judy’s visiting her friend who lives down the street,” I began as I retraced my steps to return to the orangery, “so you only have me for company, I’m afraid.”He grunted. “You’ll do.”“Don’t think I’m not aware that you like me a teensy little bit. You’d have otherwise thrown something at my head by now.”“Almost did a time or two.”“I don’t doubt it.” In the orangery, I retook my spot on the sofa and picked up my guitar.He sank onto the nearby armchair. “Thought you’d finished your album.”“I did. But I came up with a melody last night while I was trying to fall asleep.” Sometimes it happened like that. A tune would pop into my head out of nowhere. “I’ve almost mastered it. This part is annoying me, though.” I strummed my fingers over the strings as I played the melody. “These few notes just feel … out of place,” I added, replaying a small segment.He leaned forward. “Hand it over.”Man, I couldn’t help but find it amusing when he threw out these imperious demands worthy of any royal. I carefully passed him the instrument, and my inner teenager squealed because gah Kaiser Wolfe was touching my guitar. She really needed to get over herself.Positioning it on his lap just right, he said, “How about this?” He strummed out a few notes.I sat up straight. “Now that I like.”We sat there for almost an hour playing, tinkering, debating. It was … amazing. Exhilarating. Definitely an all-time favorite moment that I’d always treasure.The joy didn’t come from merely playing with someone of his talent, it came from playing with Kaiser specifically. We weren’t quite collaborating on a project—a dream I’d harbored when I was younger—but it was close enough to count for me.He slanted his head. “Do you write all your own songs?”“Yep. You?” I asked, though I already knew the answer was yes—I’d learned that from an interview I’d watched as an infatuated teen in my quest to unearth anything I could about him. To my frustration, he’d always been vague about so many things.His response was a short nod. “When did you learn to play the guitar?”“A son of one of Judy’s old friends gave me lessons when I was eleven. Judy bought me my first guitar. She probably regretted it when she had to constantly listen to me play. I could only practice at her place.”“Why?”“My dad wouldn’t let me play it at home, he …” I trailed off, not a fan of this subject.Kaiser’s eyes sharpened. “What?”“It doesn’t matter.”He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “I’ll ask you a question. You’ll ask me a question. We’ll keep going until someone cries foul.”Remembering I’d once proposed that same game, I felt my mouth curve. This was another thing he did nowadays—ask me blatantly nosy questions like it was nothing. Not willing to waste the opportunity to learn more personal stuff about him, I acquiesced, “Fine.”“What did he have against guitars?”“Nothing. He just didn’t like it if I was good at something. Jerry Rafferty has to be the most talented person in the room.” He had an aptitude for music and was a damn good piano player, but not quite as incredible as he claimed to be. And he knew it. “If he feels that someone outshines him, he loathes them on principle.”“And he loathed you?”I gave a slow nod. Judy had assured me time and time again throughout my childhood that the problem wasn’t me but Jerry; that he’d seen the ‘light’ I carried and simply couldn’t handle how bright it glowed. “You once said that you had a nomadic childhood. Did you like or hate it?”“It was no adventure, because it was hard to relax.” He tapped his fingers on the armrest. “Was your father abusive?”I debated on whether to call him on how he hadn’t exactly answered my question. Deciding I’d let him get away with it just once, I replied, “Mostly, he just tried to box me in with his many rules. All were unrealistic and to be obeyed without question. There was no room for self-expression in that house. You were to be neither seen nor heard. But he’s not strong and scary. He’s a typical bully—all bluster, only hurts those he considers weaker.”A muscle in Kaiser’s cheek popped. “He hurt you?”I swallowed. “Only once. Generally, he was content with just criticizing me—my looks, my weight, my clothes, my eating habits, my hair, even my voice. Nothing about me was ever good enough for him. He tried to make me believe that I wasn’t good enough. And maybe it would have worked if I hadn’t had my grandmother always saying the opposite.”Pausing, I angled my head. “You moved around a lot. Was it hard always being the new kid?”He shrugged. “You get used to it.”I narrowed my eyes. “You’re answering my questions without really answering them.” And I wasn’t going to give him another free pass. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but you do need to cry foul or otherwise you’re just plain cheating.”Sighing, he carefully set the guitar down beside the armchair. “You wanted to know whether I liked or hated traveling so much. Each time we moved, I hoped it would be different this time. It never was. I wanted normalcy. Routine. A home. A pet. But then I didn’t, because it was easier to pretend that none of those things meant anything.“You couldn’t let yourself settle anywhere, because you knew you’d soon be on the move again; that you might have to up and leave at a moment’s notice. I didn’t dare get attached to anything because there was always a chance I’d have to leave it behind. So no, I didn’t like it. Just as I didn’t like always being the new kid, to answer your second question. But our time wasn’t all bad. Me and my mom were happy in our way.”My heart squeezed at the picture he painted of a little boy drifting, floating, forming no bonds. Knowing he wouldn’t appreciate any sympathy, I said, “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”He fired a droll look my way. “You said that your father hurt you once. What did he do?”I flexed my fingers. “Plastered, he grabbed me by the throat and squeezed hard enough to leave bruises. He thought it would be fun to see if he could break my larynx, because then I wouldn’t be able to sing for a while.”Kaiser’s mouth tightened. “Fucker.”“I moved in with my grandmother the next day. I was eighteen, so he couldn’t stop me. Not that she’d have let him. Judy’s a force to be reckoned with. There’s no stopping her when she has her heart set on something.”“Yeah, I sensed that about her.”I bit my lower lip. “I’ll be a wreck when she dies. She’s my rock, you know?”He dipped his chin. “My mother was the only anchor I had. I guess that’s another reason why being on tour never bothers me.”“You have no tether to any particular place.”He shook his head. “It’s why I move a lot. I don’t think I’ve ever lived in one house for more than three years.”Wow. He really did move a lot. “What made you relocate to Redwater?”“I performed at the city’s main arena last year. Something about this place … I don’t know. I just like it.”“I was at that concert,” I admitted. “I kept myself hidden in a space near the VIP section where there was no chance I’d be seen.” No way would I have treaded on his limelight, and I’d known he wouldn’t want to see me anyway.His brow creased. “No one told me. Why hide the whole time? You could have found me after the show.”I snorted. “So you could scowl and grunt at me? Nah, I had better things to do. But if I ever go to one of your future concerts, I’ll come say hi afterward. Now that you’ve seen my boobs, you’re not as mean to me. Then again, you could revert back to being a major asshole after you longer have access to my pink parts.”A rumbly chuckle crawled up his throat—it only lasted a few seconds, but it had me gaping nonetheless. “You know, not many people make me laugh,” he said. “I laugh at them in my head, but not usually with them.”“And you feel absolutely no remorse about that, do you?”“No.” He stretched out his legs and planted his hands on the armrests, looking every inch a king on a throne. “Sing for me.”“Sing what?”“Something you’ve written.”I stared at him, not quite able to believe that he wanted a private show. The idea of it probably should have sent my nerves scrambling. But if there was one thing that never made me nervous, it was singing.Music was my joy, my release, my biggest form of self-expression; it made me feel connected to both myself and the world around me. So I had no issue grabbing my guitar and doing as he asked.Finished, I waited, expecting his rude version of productive criticism.“Gives me goosebumps,” he said, his tone deeper than usual.I frowned. “What?”“Hearing you sing. That fucking voice could melt rock, I swear.”I blinked, utterly taken aback. “Um. Well. Thank you.” I relaxed my hold on the guitar. “I’m thinking of performing that song at a charity concert in London next week.”His brow furrowed. “Next week?”“Yup. It’s a three-day event. I’ll be headlining it, so although I’ll only perform the first day, I agreed to act as a guest host for the following two. I almost cancelled, because I don’t like the idea of leaving Judy. But she was having none of that; she pushed me to go, pointing out that she’s been very well-behaved lately. She hasn’t been over-doing it or ignoring the doc’s advice.” I paused. “My friends promised they’d check in on her daily while I’m gone.”“Who else is performing at the concert?”I rattled off a short list of acts and artists.His expression darkened a little. “The lead singer of Kill’m is your ex, right?”My head twitched to the side. “How do you know that?”“News of your relationship was plastered all over the internet. As was your breakup.”“Yeah, the media really went to town back then. I don’t know who started the rumor that we split because Heath was in and out of rehab, but that wasn’t true. He wasn’t on drugs at all.”“So why did you end it?”“I didn’t. It was a mutual decision. We didn’t see enough of each other for it to be worth staying in a relationship. We’re good friends, though.”“Friends?” he echoed, his voice dripping with disbelief.“Yeah. You don’t think someone can be friends with their ex?”“I don’t see why they’d bother.”“Only because you don’t seem to get along with any of your exes. One of them will actually be at the concert. Peyton Court. Hey, didn’t she have a catfight with another of your exes backstage once? When you were still dating Peyton, I mean?”“That was a publicity stunt. They came up with the idea together.”My lips parted. “Seriously? Even though Peyton had to know that you hate drama?”“She thought I wouldn’t realize it was staged.” He snorted. “Anyone with eyes could see it. Not so much on the video that circulated because of its angle. But I was there. I saw the whole thing.”“But why would she do it?”“There isn’t a lot that Peyton won’t do for publicity. And I think she was feeling in a spiteful mood. Someone posted pictures online of a woman sitting on my lap at a concert afterparty. What actually happened is that she jumped on my lap. Literally appeared out of nowhere, and someone snapped a picture—it was an obvious setup. I shoved her away instantly. But Peyton didn’t believe my explanation; she was convinced that I’d cheated on her.”“Then she didn’t know you very well. You’re not a man who’d cheat.” He wasn’t the friendliest guy in the world, but he had principles. Integrity. And far too much self-respect than to go against his own code.His gaze flitted over my face, intent. “No, I’m not.” He linked his fingers and rested his hands on his chest. “Sing for me again.”“How about you sing for me instead?”He twisted his mouth. “A private show will cost you.”“And what would the price be?”“You’ve got to sing for me topless.”A startled chuckle burst out of me. “I’m not that kind of performer. I keep my lady bits to myself.”“Ah, but they’re mine to look at. So I should get to see them whenever I want.”My core clenched at that. “My grandmother could walk in. I’d rather not traumatize her.”“I don’t think anything could traumatize that woman.”“Probably not. But I’d prefer not to risk it.”“Then it looks like you won’t be getting a private show.”I pouted. “You’re mean.”“Oh, I’m an absolute asshole,” he easily agreed. “It’s a wonder that you haven’t tried to get rid of me yet.”“Tried?” I echoed. “Like I wouldn’t succeed?”“I can get you to agree to pretty much anything when my mouth is on your pussy.”I couldn’t even claim that he was wrong. “In my defense, it is a very skilled mouth. Deserves a Rosette award or something.”His eyes dancing, he gave a slow shake of the head. “You …”“What?”“Nothing.” He tipped his chin at the guitar. “Sing for me.”I sighed. “You are so spoiled.” But I sang.