My traitor heart stutters at the thought of spending more time alone with him. Grady looks even less pleased about that suggestion than I should be.

“No, I can do it.” Grady pulls out his phone. “Emmy will understand. I’ll just call her and let her know we’ll be a little later than I thought.”

“That makes no sense. You have plans, and I’m free all afternoon.” Rhyson walks to the door, propping it open with his broad back. “Come on, Kai.”

I look from Grady to Rhyson, unsure of what to do. If I take Rhyson up on his offer, I’ll make my class on time. Problem solved. But if I go with him, I might find myself knee-deep in one tall, dark, fascinating problem that I can’t solve.

Rhyson raises both brows and cocks his head toward the driveway.

“If you don’t wanna be late, we’d better go.”

I glance at my watch one more time, as if it has the answer. My girls will be waiting. I can’t afford to miss this class because I need the money. I don’t want Grady missing his date. Should be an easy choice, but the way my breath keeps catching in my throat when Rhyson looks at me complicates the hell out of this situation.

Screw it. Girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

I drop my eyes to the floor, and when I look up, a small smile plays around Rhyson’s mouth. He gestures for me to walk past him. Before I do, I lean up and plant a quick kiss on Grady’s cheek.

“I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

He nods, but fixes his eyes on Rhyson at the door.

“Remember what we talked about, Rhys.”

Rhyson runs his fingers through that silky, messy hair and nods, exchanging a look with Grady I can’t begin to decipher. I walk past him and approach the only car in the driveway, the silver Porsche Cayenne that was parked there when I arrived. I didn’t think much of it since there’s always a student, a producer, some friend visiting Grady. The SUV is gorgeous, but not over the top. No butterfly door in sight. It’s not a Ferrari or a Lamborghini Mercy. Maybe I’ve seen one too many episodes of Cribs. Or maybe Rhyson left his Lambo at home.

“Nice car.” I buckle myself in, watching him slip on aviators and adjust his mirror about a millimeter.

“Thanks,” Rhyson says, backing out of the driveway without looking my way again.

I tell him where to find the studio. We should be there in less than twenty minutes, but the first five minutes feel like forever. We ride in complete silence. No music. No conversation. Not even a sigh from either of us.

“So, did you and Grady finish what you were working on?” I finally ask.

Why am I attempting small talk? Back at Grady’s, I was fighting what I felt, resisting the pull of him. Now that he seems to be doing the same thing, I’m stirring the pot. This is what girls do. But not me. Usually.

Rhyson flicks me a glance before looking back at the highway.

“Uh, yeah.”

Okay. That was a dismissal if I ever heard one. This is what I wanted, and yet I already miss the intensity of his eyes on me. I miss his complete attention.

“This car is kind of my namesake.”

Really, Kai? You’re still trying? But I can’t help it. Parts of me that have been numb for months are humming and buzzing every time he looks at me. Every time he talks to me. Even though I have my reservations, now that he’s withdrawn, I find myself drawing him back out just so I can feel those things again.

He looks over at me, one dark brow quirked up.

Damn, that’s sexy. And he’s waiting for me to elaborate.

“I’ll tell you a secret.” I open and close the snaps on my cargo shorts, focusing on my fingers before looking his way again.

“That’s unexpected.” One side of his mouth pulls up, but he doesn’t look my way again. “I’m all ears.”

“My middle name is Anne.”

I wait a few seconds while he assembles that little bit of information into the goofy embarrassment my mother made of my name.

“Your name is Kai Anne?” He looks over at me, a wide grin spreading his lips and showing his teeth. “Like the pepper?”

“And like your car.”

I have to laugh. I can’t believe I just told the guy I was trying to shut down something that has always embarrassed me. I have no one to blame but myself. He was fully cooperating until I started sharing.

“Oh, God. I thought I had it bad with Rhyson,” he says, chuckling.

“I like Rhyson.”

Our eyes connect across the few feet of space separating us, heating up the air and melting his smile a little around the edges

“I mean, the name.” I draw a deep breath. “I like the name Rhyson.”

“I knew what you meant.” He looks straight ahead as he takes the exit for the rec center. “So, did everyone call you Pepper?”

“No one has ever called me Pepper.”

“You’ve got to be kidding? How could they not?”

“Not many people know my middle name is Anne. And my mother didn’t realize the punch line she was making of my name.”

“So there has to be a story behind it. Come on. Fess up.”

“No confession. My mom was Korean, but my grandparents adopted her when she was just days old. She already had a name though. Mai Lin. She wanted me to have a name that at least hinted at her ancestry, even though she couldn’t speak a lick of Korean.”

“Not a lick, huh?”

“Don’t you start that again.” I level a warning finger at him. “Leave the South alone.”

“I’ve spent very little time there, but if all the girls there look like you, I should visit.”

“Wow. You just couldn’t resist the line, huh?”

His mouth quirks. I need to stop noticing all the enticing things he does with his mouth, but I can’t help myself. I’m trapped in this car with one of the most brilliant musicians of my generation, who just happens to have gorgeous bed hair at four o’clock Pacific Standard Time and grey eyes that go a little darker every time he looks at me for more than three seconds.

He pulls into a parking spot at the center, leans one elbow on the steering wheel, and faces me.

“Looks like we’re here, Pepper.”

I open my eyes as wide as they can physically go.

“I told you no one has ever called me that. You cannot. I forbid you.”

“Oh, and I’m so scared of a five-foot fairy.”

I will not smile back at him. As much as my grin muscles strain, I will not.

“Five. Two.”

He throws his head back and laughs, the muscles in his neck working to get the husky sound out.

“Okay, five two.” He looks just past my shoulder at the simple square structure of the community center. “Is there a bathroom in there I might be able to use?”

“Sure. Um, I’ll show you.”

“Wait a second.” He reaches into a compartment between our seats and pulls out a Dodgers baseball cap. “I’m not in the mood to sign any autographs at the urinal.”

“Does that really happen?”

“You’d be surprised what I’ve been asked to sign at the most awkward times in the most awkward places.”

“You think a cap and a pair of aviators make that much of a difference?”

“Oh, I know they do. I’ve literally had people walk up to me and say I look just like Rhyson Gray. I tell them I get that a lot.”

I’ve only known him for a day, and I’m pretty sure I could pick him out of a stadium full of folks wearing baseball caps and aviators. I have to admit though, with that unruly hair covered, at a glance he’s just another tall, attractive guy. We walk together and silence falls between us again. He opens the door for me, and I point him down the hall.

“Bathroom’s down there. I’m gonna go to the locker room and change for my class.” I look up at him, his eyes on me a welcome weight I shouldn’t let myself become accustomed to. “Thank you so much. I didn’t want the girls waiting.”

“The girls in your class?”

“Yeah. They’re your typical pain-in-the-butt teenagers most of the time, but they’re good kids. A lot of them wouldn’t get exposure to quality teaching if it weren’t for the community center.”