Page 22 of Riot

“Better than the London one?” I tease.

“So much better.” She’s right. This one is so much nicer. It has a fridge, sofas, and seats to lounge in. It’s cozy and warm, and the booth is huge, with every instrument I could need, not to mention the state-of-the-art recording equipment.

For a boy who started with a microphone and not much else, it can be daunting at times.

“Are you ready to make magic?” she asks as she sits next to a worker who nods at me.

“Always.” I grin as I strip off my oversized hoodie, leaving me in a white crop top and loose blue jeans. I keep my beanie on as I head into the studio and turn my phone on loud just in case. It won’t matter anyway. Every other person and notifications are silenced except for her.

Putting the headphones on, I lift my fingers in an OK sign as we test them. “Did you get the rhythm I messaged you?”

“We got it. Are you sure?” she asks with a deep frown. It’s different than my other upbeat rock, but she knows well enough to trust me, and when I nod, she keys it up. I listen to it, my fingers tapping on the mic along with the beat. The lyrics work through my head, and when she plays it again, I start to sing.

Blue like the ocean.

Cold as ice.

I just want to be your paradise.

Melt me, freeze me, never leave me . . .

“Let’s try again.” I stop, and we rewind, and this time the chorus works like I want.

Taste like cherries with lips so sweet, I want to fuck them every day of the week?—

My phone rings, and my heart leaps in joy. I remove my headphones despite being mid-recording.

Ignoring the producer’s confused shouts, I step out of the booth, smiling as I accept her call.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“First the flowers, now this. Stop it,” she starts.

“Stop what? Spoiling you?” I tease.

“Kage.” Helen sighs. “Every minute in this studio is thousands of dollars.”

I pull my card without looking and throw it at them. “Then bill me.” I turn away, grinning. “Do you like it?”

She sighs heavily. “The painting is beautiful, but Kage?—”

“Just say thank you.” She waits, and I smirk. “Say thank you, Kage.”

“Thank you.” Every word is pulled from her, and I chuckle at how pained she sounds.

“You’re welcome. Dinner tonight?”

“No.” She hangs up, but I’m grinning.

I’m getting to her. I know it.

TEN

It’s been four days since I saw Kage—not that he hasn’t tried.

He’s knocked on my door every single day, texted, called, and sent presents, but I’ve pulled away. He’s getting too close, and I’ve pulled back and protected myself like I always do. It helps that I’m in a different city today. I spent the night doing some promo shoots and magazine covers during the day, so when I reach my hotel for the night, I’m exhausted. I just want to climb into bed and sleep. I want my makeup off and my hair unbound.

I want to be alone, just for a moment.

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