Page 3 of Perfect Rhythm
I frowned. Trace was saying a lot without saying anything at all.
“If you got something to say, then just say it,” I snapped. “You know I don’t like beating around the bush.”
He folded his arms in front of him, scanning the crowd with practiced ease. “I’m not saying much. I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you do something like that for a woman before.”
“Man, chill. It’s just a sign. You’ve seen me buy all kinds of shit for women.”
“True. But that out there...that’s something different. It seems a bit more…personal.”
“It’s not,” I quickly shot back, unable to think of a better response.
He nodded slowly. “If you say so.”
“Whatever. Fuck you, Trace.”
He laughed. “Don’t come at me sideways because I’m noticing shit.”
“I’m not coming at you—you know what? Let’s just end the conversation here.”
“Fine with me.” He shrugged.
I shoved my hands into my pockets and lifted my head.
I was trying to act unbothered. But the truth was, I was bothered as hell.
My boy was on to me, and I didn’t like that shit.
I couldn’t explain why I felt the need to purchase a whole fucking billboard just to say happy birthday. Usually, I just took everyone out for the night to celebrate and covered the bill. But for some reason, that just didn’t seem like enough this time around. At least, not when it came to Nyx.
So much had changed since opening night, and I guess I had my creative director to thank for that. Because before she decided to switch up the choreography, Nyx and I barely crossed paths.
Originally, we only had a couple of songs where we danced together. But that was all it took for the fans to take notice, and according to social media, Nyx and I had the kind of chemistry that sizzled the moment we stepped on stage together. A few shows in, and the audience would scream louder every time we danced close to each other, begging for us to give them more.
The shit was insane.
But I couldn’t say that I blamed them. With every show, I became more and more infatuated with the way Nyx transformed on stage. The way she moved—confident, sensual,completely in her element—Nyx was cold as hell, and tonight, she made sureeveryonetook notice.
“Thanks for the happy birthday wishes,” a soft voice whispered in my ear.
I looked over my shoulder, surprised to see Nyx standing on the chair behind me.
“You’re welcome. Glad you liked it.”
“I did. But I must say, I wasn’t expecting something so...um...massive.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, is this something you do for all of your dancers that are turning twenty-six?” She let out a nervous giggle.
“No, just you,” I said before I could catch myself.
Fuck!
I froze, then squeezed my eyes shut before opening them again slowly. “I just wanted to do something special for you as a thank you. You’ve done a lot to help make my tour a success, and I appreciate that.”
She shrugged. “It’s no problem. I was just doing my job.”
“Yeah, well, you did thatandsome. The crowd loves you, and I can’t even lie, I love your ass too.” My eyes widened.What the fuck is happening?“I mean, I love watching you perform,” I corrected.
Laughing, she nodded. “I know what you meant.”
Thank God.
