“Rhyson?”

He strokes my hair back and rubs a hand up and down my thigh soothingly.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Does your offer still stand?”

His hand stops on my leg. I can almost see him holding his breath. He leans forward, tipping his head down to hold my eyes.

“Which offer would that be? I’ve made so many that you’ve turned down.”

I laugh because it’s true. At every turn, I thought he was trying to control me. Thought I couldn’t trust him. Thought I’d be foolish to depend on him, but all along he’s been true. All along, he’s had my best interest at heart. Who cares if people think I made it because of him? I loved singing with him at Glory Falls Baptist that night. And while I wait for my big break, I may as well have some fun onstage with the man I adore. Even if it is in front of his legions of fans.

I kiss one side of his mouth.

“Can I go with you on tour?”

I kiss the other side.

“Can I sing with you?”

I kiss the middle, loving the firm lips opening under mine to share a breath with me before I pull away.

“Can I move in with you?”

He pulls back, closes one eye, and turns up his lips in fake consideration.

“Can I think about it?”

God, I love him.

I NEVER REALLY UNDERSTOOD “FINDING PEACE.” I used to think peace had to find us. That when we’re lost, we stand still long enough, and peace will find us. But when we are lost, peace doesn’t come looking for us. It doesn’t settle on us like a cloud, gentle and sweet. It’s not this passive process. At least it wasn’t for me.

Sometimes we have to fight our way out of the dark because the light doesn’t come looking. I half crawled and was half dragged out by the people who love me. And once I was out of the dark, the light still didn’t offer much peace. I worked and went through the motions of life in broad daylight, still numb with grief.

I can’t help but remember that last night with Mama, sitting on our front porch, shivering in the cold, watching a dark sky, waiting for the break of dawn. The hope of a new day, a light in the sky that never came for her. In some ways, I’ve been looking for that break in the dark ever since. It took a long time for me to see it, for me to find that hope, that peace. But something, someone, made me want it. Made me want to make the most of the light. Made me want to open my heart to all that life still has to offer, even though death took so much. And that someone takes my breath away.

I stand in the wings, backstage at Club Nokia, watching my boyfriend end his set. The last two weeks have been crazy. I’d already left The Note. I gave my notice at the studio last week and taught my last class yesterday. The last thing tethering me to my old life is the apartment. I don’t have much, but what I do have is packed up and ready to go to Rhyson’s. San pretends he is happy that I’m leaving because now he can have all the booty calls he wants, but I know he’ll miss me. I’ll miss him. It’s kind of the end of an era for us. I guess I’m becoming what I promised myself I’d never be—a kept woman.

At least until I become a superstar.

Rhyson and I walked the red carpet together for the first time tonight for this benefit concert. Even though it’s so close to the tour, Rhyson wanted to do it because it benefits the high school for the arts he attended. I want to hang back, but he wants me with him all the time. He says he wants everyone to know that he’s taken, that I’m taken. That we’ve taken each other.

I gotta admit, it feels right. The lights and the cameras. The screaming fans. I don’t even care that they’re not cheering for me. One day they will be. One day I’ll have a stage of my own. A tour of my own. For now, I love him so much I just want to ride with him. It felt right being with him.

Bristol walks up beside me. I wouldn’t recognize that girl without her phone, and sure enough, it’s the main accessory for the silver dress sheathing her lean body. Her dark hair falls around her shoulders, coppery in places like Rhyson’s. She looks so much like him, but more and more, I see how different they are.

They always fight like titans, but can only hold on to it for so long. I don’t want to come between them. I guess the same way Rhyson had to win me, had to prove himself to me over time, I’ll have to do the same with his sister.

“You all packed and ready to go on tour?” Bristol asks with her eyes fixed on her phone.

I draw a careful breath before I answer.

“For the most part.”

A tight silence closes around us. I can’t remember a time when it’s just been the two of us.

“You guys have been incredible,” Rhyson says from the piano onstage, wrapping up his set. “The School of the Arts changed my life, and I’m so honored to be here tonight. It’s events like this that make scholarships possible for students who might not otherwise be able to attend. That’s how I met my best friend, Marlon.”

Rhyson leans closer to the mic and looks over the crowd.

“I think you call him Grip.”

The crowd cheers and chants Grip’s name. One girl waits for the response to die down before yelling out, “I love you, Rhyson!”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He grins up in the direction the shout came from. “I’m going on tour in a few days, and Grip’s coming with me. Maybe some of you have tickets for the show at Staples in a few weeks?”

Ear-splitting screams fill the room. Rhyson nods, his fingers drifting over the piano keys, easy as breathing.

“Nice.” He transitions into a melody I vaguely remember, but can’t place from where. “There’s a song I wanna do out on the road. It’s going on my new album. It’s called ‘Pepper.’ I wrote it for my girlfriend.”

A chorus of “awwwws” makes Rhyson roll his eyes.

“You guys are funny.”

He turns his head away from the audience, his eyes searching in the dim light backstage where I stand. He tugs on his ear twice and smiles for me before launching into the song I heard in its embryonic stages.

You’re hot like Pepper on my tongue . . .

The words find their way into every crack left in my heart. He is filling me. His love washes over me. This man, this remarkable man who is more gifted than anyone I’ve ever met, saved all of this for me. The longer he sings, the weaker my knees feel. The shorter my breath comes. I want to be alone with him and show him in every way I can that I feel the same.

“I’m gonna go check on the press room,” Bristol says, clearly not pleased at Rhyson publicly acknowledging our relationship.

She walks away, but even her coolness doesn’t take me out of this moment.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” Someone says from the spot Bristol just vacated.

I turn to answer with a smile, but it disappears as soon as I see John Malcolm.

“That he is, Mr. Malcolm.”

I look back to the stage, focusing on Rhyson instead of this instant awkwardness. Sometime between telling me he looked forward to working with me, and Julie Schwimmer’s call, John Malcolm changed his mind about me. I’ve been turned down a lot since I moved here, so I shouldn’t take it personally, but that day, that performance, fooled me. I felt something that wasn’t real. I thought all my hard work culminated into that moment, that I was turning a corner, but I wasn’t. It was just another delay.

“That’ll be you someday, Kai,” Malcolm says. “You’ve got what it takes in spades. I’ve rarely seen anyone with as much as you have.”

Now he’s just rubbing salt into a very fresh wound. I turn to face him, folding my arms across my chest and cocking my hip.

“Then why’d you pass on me?”

“I wondered when you’d ask.” A slow smile hangs between his jowls. “I wanted you on the show, but I’m only one of five executive producers.”