Rhyson carefully pulls Jimmi’s hands from behind his neck and drops a quick kiss on her forehead.

“Happy birthday, Jim. Your gift should be arriving very soon.”

“What’d you get me?” Jimmi’s arms hang at her sides now that she doesn’t have them wrapped around Rhyson, and she looks a little lost.

“Just call me when it comes. I’ll give you a hint. You can play it and I think you’ll like it.”

A guy dressed in all black approaches and whispers something in Jimmi’s ear. She nods and frowns before addressing Rhyson.

“We got a lot of paps out front and out back.”

“Dammit.” Rhyson frowns at me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I give him an easy smile, even though my stomach knotted a little as soon as I heard “paps.”

“Let’s go.” He grabs my hand and waves at his friends. “We’re out before it gets any more intense out there.”

Their speculation is so heavy and thick, I can barely breathe under it. All eyes clamp on my hand linked with Rhyson’s. I tug, but he doesn’t let go, even when we head for the back exit. At the door, he stops and peels his Bob Marley hoodie over his head. His broad shoulders straining against the white T-shirt distract me for a moment so I’m surprised when he pushes the hoodie over my head. I absently push my arms through as I breathe in the delicious scent from his body clinging to the sweatshirt.

“I don’t want them to see you.” Rhyson pulls the hood up, tucking my hair into the sweatshirt down my back. “They see you, they’ll start following you. Wondering who the ‘mystery girl’ is. Start stalking and chasing you.”

“But why?” I slide my hands into the front pocket of the hoodie. “I’m nobody.”

He brushes a thumb over my bottom lip, and it’s like an open sesame for my senses. My lips part automatically. His eyes sear the sensitive skin of my lips, and I feel him like a kiss.

“I’m never out with girls, Kai, besides Jimmi and Bristol.” He squats until we’re eye level. “If they see us together, they’ll figure out that you’re special to me.”

His words snatch my breath. Hearing this man who has become so special to me say that he feels the same literally takes my breath away, just for a second. I start breathing again, wanting to look away. I need to look away because the longer we stare at each other, the warmer I become.

“You ready?” He has one hand on the back door bar and one hand at my back. “As soon as I open this door, keep your head down, okay? And keep your face covered.”

I nod that I’m ready. When the door opens, I realize I’m wrong. I’m completely unprepared as we slam into a wall of lights and sound.

MY HEART IS STILL RACING. WALKING out of the bowling alley was like running the gamut in a war zone, with us as the possible prisoners of war.

“That was crazy.” I turn in my seat to study Rhyson. His hands are relaxed on the steering wheel, but he keeps flicking glances to the rearview mirror.

“Yeah. We’ve still got a few trailing us. I want to lose ‘em before I take you home, or else they’ll be camped out at your place tomorrow.” He slants a grin my way. “You sure you want this? Paps staking you out and bugging you every time you leave the house?”

“No, I don’t want this. I just want to perform.”

“Yeah, well, the days where you get to just make music and not have TMZ in your face every time you go out are gone. At least if you’re good enough for the public to care.”

He looks over his shoulder and frowns.

“I’m gonna drive around for a little bit to shake them. Sound good?”

I nod, still a little freaked by all the lights, the intrusive cameras, the bodies pressing into us on our way to the car. All of them yelling, asking Rhyson who I am. Apparently word had spread pretty fast that not only were Jimmi, Grip, and several other celebs at the party, but the elusive Rhyson Gray too. His disguises when he comes to see me have always just been funny, but now I understand how little privacy he has without them.

My phone lights up in my lap with a text message.

“Hey, It’s Dub. Great meeting you tonight. This is my number. I’ll send you deets about the video.”

Rhyson glances from the phone in my lap back up to my face before turning his eyes back to the road.

“Well, that didn’t take long,” he says. “Guess he doesn’t just move fast on the dance floor, huh?”

My cheeks flush hot, but I remind myself I don’t owe Rhyson an explanation. Only I remember how ill I felt when I saw his arm draped around Bristol. Before I knew she was his sister, I wanted to rip her hair out strand by strand. So even though I don’t owe him an explanation, I offer one anyway.

“I gave him my number so he could send details for the video.” My knee bounces with the nerves I’m feeling. “That’s all.”

“That’s all?” He swivels his head in my direction, and the passing lights of the city illuminate his frown. “So he didn’t ask you out?”

“No, of course not. We just met.”

“I asked you out pretty soon after we met. Of course, you turned me down.”

It’s the first time since the beginning of our friendship that he mentioned that again. I can’t draw enough breath. The interior of the car closes in on me. I can’t go there with him. He can’t make me resolve this problem we’ve created over the last few months. Not right now. Not yet.

“Rhyson, you know why I turned you down.”

“Yeah, you didn’t want people to think that you succeeded because you slept with me, right?” His mouth distorts into a sneer. “High profile choreographer is after you now, and you just scored a video gig. Looks like being my friend is working out for you after all. All the benefits without the fucking.”

If we weren’t whizzing through the streets at fifty miles an hour, I’d jump right out. As it is, I’m trapped in the car with his anger and his resentment. They crawl over me and press onto my chest, oppressive and unfair. Instead of firing back at him, giving him the fight I’m guessing he wants, I turn my face toward the window so he won’t see the tears standing in my eyes. He doesn’t try to get another response from me, and I don’t offer any words for the ten minutes left in our ride to my apartment. It’s a fragile silence, and I think we both realize that breaking it with the wrong words could break everything. As frustrated as we are with one another, neither of us wants to risk that.

As soon as he pulls into the parking lot of my apartment, I’m out of the car almost before it stops rolling. I take the asphalt strip between his car and my front stoop at high speed. I’m fumbling with the keys when I feel him at my back. His big hand covers mine over the doorknob. He presses his chest to my back and rests his chin on my head.

“I’m sorry, Pep.” His voice, deep and low, rolls over me. It should soothe, but it incites. His body so close and so warm incites every part of me. I can’t believe how numb I was before I met him. My body, my heart, and my soul twist around one another, a three-stranded nerve waiting for his touch, his words, his attention.

So dangerous.

He turns me around by my shoulders until I’m forced to face him. I strain my neck back to look up at him.

“I didn’t mean it, Pep. You know I didn’t mean it.”

I swallow my hurt and force myself to speak.

“Then why’d you say it?”

He rolls his eyes up to the starless night sky before dropping his gaze to his feet, a breath huffing past his lips. He rests one forearm against the door behind me, bringing our bodies so close to touching.

“I was jealous,” he admits with steel pellets lodged in his voice.

“Rhyson—”

“No, listen.”

He dips his head until his lips hover over mine. If I open my mouth, I’ll taste his words. If I move even a little bit, we’ll share our first kiss. If I do nothing, I’ll imagine his tongue dancing with mine all night.