Page 20 of Faithful

“I figured.”

He directs his rain cloud gaze back at me and tilts his head a bit. The candlelight and the flutter of the video moving slowly up and down his cheeks glow against his skin and against the metal of his nose ring and play with the shades of black in his hair, and I think I could look at him all night long.

“I gave your song a name.” His voice is uncharacteristically soft and unsure, as if he’s not stating a fact but asking for permission.

“Really?”

“Bryan Rexler agreed to produce it.” Kai’s eyes become big and shiny and his features change. They seem less harsh.

“I don’t know who he is,” I tell him honestly, plucking one of the rolls from my plate just so I can occupy my hands. “But I gather that I probably should…”

“He's a music producer.” Kai then goes on to tell me about all the artists this Rexler worked with in the past. Some of the names are pretty big. Even I recognize them. “It’s a sort of last-minute thing. We’re packing a tight schedule before Vegas, so the label has us flying to Nashville in a few days,” he adds, bringing another piece of salmon to his mouth.

He’s not saying it, but I can read between the lines just fine. His vacation is cut short, and he won’t be staying in Seattle the full week.

“What’s the name?” I ask, suddenly feeling bereft. “The song.”

“‘Kneel.’”

My food is stuck in my throat and I almost choke.

“What do you think?”

What do I think? About the song the lyrics of which are already pretty obvious if you know the source material?

“Does it matter?”

Kai stops eating, his mouth twisting into something akin to a scowl. “Yes, it fucking matters.” He shoots to his feet a little too fast. His body sways but he rights himself in time and says, “It’s your fucking cock I’m talking about, isn’t it?”

Okay, the song doesn’t explicitly state what the object of his desire is, but you gotta be pretty fucking dumb not to understand the meaning behindI’ll put my mouth on you and taste you. There’s something about drinking and serious things too, but that’s not the point.

Kai tosses his chopsticks on the table, and I can sense the shift in his demeanor. I can sense it with every fiber of my body. If this were a phone conversation, he’d be hanging up now. Only it’s not. He’s here in my place, very corporeal, and I have control over what happens next. I can either let him win this round or I can stop being a coward.

I choose the latter.

I jump up after him, hitting my knee on the corner of the coffee table in the process.

We’re standing up now, my hands fisting his sweater first, then slipping around his neck to hold him in place. “You’re not going anywhere, you hear me?” I whisper into his cheek.

“What else?” he asks, his voice low and deep and demanding.

“I haven’t seen you for two months,” I begin, my heart rioting in the confines of my chest, slamming itself into my ribs. “You think you can just make me do all these things and then leave because I don’t say what you expect me to say… Well, guess what? I don’t know what to fucking say to you half the time because I’m terrified I’ll say the wrong thing and you’ll disappear. So you gotta tell me what it is you want to hear from me or what it is you want me to do.”Blabbering fool. That’s who you are, Dylan Watson.

To my surprise, Kai doesn’t try to extract himself from my grip or attempt to knock me out cold. He simply stands there, his face inches away from mine, his breaths shallow and erratic, and his hands suddenly reaching out for my wrists.

“Come to Vegas,” he murmurs. “I want you to hear it when we perform it live for the first time.”

“Okay.” I nod and nuzzle his cheek, ignoring the dull pain shooting through my battered kneecap. I don’t care about the specifics like dates, times, or accommodations. I only care about the fact that he let his walls down for a bit, which gives me an opportunity to slip inside his space, the space he protects so hard from the world. “Okay, I’ll be there.”

“Good.” Kai palms my face. “Good.” He brings his mouth to mine and kisses me.

The dinner is forgotten.

Somehow, I find myself sitting on the sofa. No. Pressed into it with my shirt off and Kai straddling me. His hands play with my hair for a second, then slip down to my chest, soft fingertips trailing across my skin, saying hello.

I return the gesture, touching his fully clothed body, studying the grooves of his muscles, so familiar now.

We’re kissing again, our tongues chasing one another in lazy motions, sharing secrets, communicating until we’re both flushed with desire.

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