“No way.”
“He and my father are twins.” I link my hands behind my head. Talking about my father usually makes me want to play less, which is why it took me close to seven years to play again professionally after I left his house.
“Twins? Grady’s a twin?” She shakes her head. “He’s never talked much about his family.”
“Yeah, well, we aren’t exactly the Brady Bunch, and they aren’t close anymore. Thanks to me.”
“To you?”
“You’ve heard that I emancipated from my parents, right?”
She looks like she doesn’t want to admit it, but she nods.
“Yeah.”
“Well, the judge may have ruled that I was basically ready to live on my own, but Grady knew better. I came to live with him and went to the L.A. School of Performing Arts for my last two years of high school.”
Without realizing it, I’ve started playing Tchaikovsky’s Romance in F Minor. Even my subconscious wants to seduce her.
“It’s like breathing for you, isn’t it?” She runs her eyes over the ebony and ivory keys.
“Sorry?” I sit back and drop my hands to my lap for a few seconds before returning to the keys. “What?”
“Playing. It’s like breathing. You’re playing something so beautiful, and it’s like you’re not even conscious of it. Like it takes nothing for you to do.”
How do I admit she’s right without sounding like an arrogant prick? I don’t remember a time when I couldn’t play. I don’t even remember a time when I wasn’t good at it.
“I guess it is like breathing. It’s just an extension of who I am.”
“Oh, give me a break.” Grady strolls back into the room, pocketing his cell phone. “It’s just an extension of who I am.”
He actually does a frighteningly good imitation of me.
“What a load of crap. Don’t listen to him, Kai,” Grady says. “It’s one of his lines to pick up girls.”
She grins. I don’t. I want to strangle Grady when she picks up the invoice and heads for the door. Does she believe it was just a line?
“I don’t think that even occurred to him, Grady.”
She’s wrong. It definitely occurred to me. I’d have to be dead not to want to sleep with this girl, but it doesn’t have to be now. I think I can wait. I think I want to know her first.
Damn. What’s wrong with me? I want to know her first? Who is this guy?
“I’m almost done.” She waves the invoice in the air and moves toward the door, giving us only her back. “San’s on his way to pick me up. I’ll let myself out.”
As soon as she’s a few seconds down the hall, Grady turns to me with his eyebrows bunched together.
“I thought we had an agreement.”
“I don’t remember actually agreeing to anything.”
“We said you’d leave Kai alone.”
“No, you said I’d leave Kai alone.” I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “Besides, we were just talking.”
“I’ve seen where ‘talking’ can lead. She’s been through enough without dealing with you.”
“What’s she been through?”
“Her mother, who she was very close to, passed away only about six months ago, right before she moved here. It was a long illness, and Kai was her main caregiver. It took a lot out of her. In a lot of ways, she’s still not over it.”
I haven’t spoken to my mom in . . . damn, years . . . but if anything happened to her, I’d take it hard. I imagine Kai had a less dysfunctional relationship with her mother. Shit, the Addams Family is less dysfunctional than mine.
“What’s up with her and the guy?”
“Santos?” Grady slips his glasses back on and takes the composition pad away from me. “Oh, they’re very close.”
My shoulders tense as I wait for more, but he’s not giving me more. He wants to lure every question out of me.
“Yeah, they’re close. I picked up on that. Are they just friends though?”
Grady shrugs, tapping his chin with a pencil.
“Maybe I should try a different key.”
“Grady, come on. Toss me a bone here.”
“Why should I?” He drops the pencil, along with any pretense that he doesn’t know exactly what I want. “There are plenty of girls out there more than willing to play your games.”
“Who says I want to play games? I just want to get to know her.”
“Are you telling me you don’t want to sleep with Kai?”
Well, he just put that right out there, didn’t he? It should be awkward, him being my uncle and all, but I did live through my out-of-control adolescence under his roof. He did buy me my first condoms. We left awkward behind long ago.
“Grady, I just met the girl last night. Give me some time. Maybe start with coffee.”
“I’m just saying what’s the point? She’s very driven. Very focused, and not one of these girls looking for anything she hasn’t earned. So just let her go her way, and you keep going yours.”
“Do you really think that little of me?”
“I just think that much of her. She hasn’t been in L.A. long. Moved here from the backwoods of Georgia. She needs protecting.”
“And you’re her designated protector?”
“I seem to remember someone else who needed looking after when he first moved here.” The stern lines of his face soften just a bit. “Wasn’t I that for you when you needed it?”
Grady just played his trump card. He knows I can’t, or won’t, argue with that. I got nothing.
“So now do we have an agreement?” Grady picks up the pencil and poises it over the song we haven’t worked on yet. “You’ll leave this one alone?”
I nod and start reworking the measures he’s been wrestling with, but I don’t say the words. Another lesson I learned from my parents the hardest of ways. Don’t make promises you aren’t sure you can keep.
I PUSH BACK THE CURTAIN OF Grady’s living room window for the hundredth time and check my watch. It’s so unlike Santos to be late. If he’s not here soon, I’ll be late for my hip-hop class. I hate the thought of my girls standing around waiting for me at the community center. I’m just about to call Santos one more time, when my cell rings. It’s him.
“Where are you?” I can’t even bother with a decent greeting.
“I’m sorry, pipsqueak.” Santos sounds irritated and apologetic at the same time. “Some guy rear-ended me.”
My heart completely shifts gears, concern swallowing any impatience.
“Are you okay? Where are you?”
“I’m fine. Still about thirty minutes away, and the cops want me to stay on the scene. I don’t want you to be late.”
Grady and Rhyson enter the room, laughing and talking. I turn my back, blocking them out of my conversation as much as I can.
“I’ll be fine, San. Just focus on that, and I’ll figure it out.”
I’m already calculating how late I’ll be if I have to wait for the next bus, and how every stop will further delay me getting to class on time.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe this happ—Hold on.” His voice grows fainter like he’s turned his head. “Hey, it’s the cop.”
“Go. I’ll figure it out. I’m just glad you’re okay. Text me once everything settles down.”
Grady walks over to me, concern on his face.
“Everything okay with Santos?”
I focus on Grady, keeping my eyes off Rhyson, who stands back, observing our conversation, arms crossed over his chest. I will not notice the subtle bulge of his biceps pulling at the sleeves of his T-shirt. I will not remember the heat of his hand on my stomach or his finger caressing my belly ring. Or the way his, “May I touch you here?” pierced my peace of mind back in the music room.
“San was in a car accident, but he’s fine. He just has to stay at the scene.”
“He was taking you to class?”