“Poor baby with the rock star lifestyle.”

“You shut it. Posing and looking badass is hard work.”

“Oh, I’m so sure. Sounds like fun.”

“It has been. I like it here. New Yorkers are so jaded they barely blink when they see me. It’s awesome. I haven’t used a disguise once. I have a small security detail, but I’m walking around pretty freely.”

“Would you ever think of moving there?”

“Oh, I thought you knew.” He raises both brows and runs a hand through all that beautiful, sloppy hair. “I have a place here. An apartment.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“I just don’t come out here much.” Rhyson’s expression hardens almost undetectably, like the mask on my face. “My parents are in New York, so . . . I mean, they aren’t in the city, but still.”

“I get that. I’m assuming you won’t see them while you’re there?”

“No, but they’ve been trying to get me to come home for Christmas.”

“You should. It’s been how long since you saw them?”

“A few years. I doubt if they miss me. They have a steady stream of income from my old royalties. That’s all they need from me, I think.”

“You sound so cynical. I know they went about everything the wrong way. I hate that, but I’m sure they miss you.”

He gives a quick shake of his head, dismissing my comment and the subject.

“Let’s talk about something else. I have a question for you. This is a serious question and requires a serious response.”

“Oh, boy. Shoot.”

Rhyson waits an extra beat, his eyes darkening and intensifying as he bites his bottom lip.

“It’s okay for friends to miss each other, right?”

I take a deep breath, staring into his serious eyes and nodding.

“Good, ‘cause I miss you, Pep.” His rich voice deepens over the words. “I miss you a lot. I wish you were here with me.”

“Rhyson—”

“Kai.” He imitates the higher pitch of my voice and drags the name out with my Southern drawl. Despite the teasing voice, his eyes remain earnest. “Do you miss me?”

Yes. Yes, I really, really do. I didn’t realize how much I’ve come to love the texts during the day, the rides home, the long talks over lunch or dinner until he went to New York. I can’t say all of that. I’m the one who said just friends, and that would sound like . . . more. So I settle for a simple truth that will not make things more complicated.

“Yes.”

“Good.” A smile creases his lean cheeks. “So you’ll go to my friend’s birthday party when I get back? The one I told you about?”

“Um . . . I have to check my work schedule. You know my life is all over the place.”

“Everyone deserves a little time off, Pep. Even you.”

His eyes, nimbus-grey, like clouds before a storm, make everything hazy and humid, like he’s right beside me, pressing his lean, muscled body into mine. The longer we hold that look without speaking, the more we say.

I miss you.

I want you.

I wish you were here.

I snip the hot thread between us stretching from coast to coast with my words.

“I’ll take it under advisement, Mr. Gray.”

He glances up, smiles, and reaches to fist bump someone I can’t see, before returning his glance to the screen.

“You do that,” he says. “Make sure you watch me on Fallon tonight.”

“I’ll have to DVR it. I have to work, and I’m closing.”

“You should probably watch since I’m gonna shout you out.”

“You will not. Rhyson Gray, if you—”

“Untwist your panties. Nobody but us will know. I’ll tug on my ear twice, which means, ‘Hey, Pep. What’s up?’”

“You’re ridiculous.” I try to hold onto my sensibilities, but it’s like holding my breath. I can only do it for so long.

“Hey. I gotta go. Our table’s ready. Bye.”

“Okay.

“Watch tonight.”

After we disconnect, I sit on the edge of my bed with the phone dark and quiet in my lap. What am I going to do about this thing between Rhys and me? I can lie to him, but I’ve never been one to lie to myself. He’s wanted more than friendship from the beginning. He settled for less, but I know he’s not that guy. He’s the guy you only deny for so long before you give him exactly what he wants.

And Rhyson wants me.

God, I want him too, but I didn’t delay my dreams for five years to come out to L.A. and be some rock star’s plus one.

“All done?” Santos leans one shoulder against the doorframe.

“Yeah. Thanks for the heads up about the mask, by the way.”

“Couldn’t resist. Things going well out there?”

“Yeah. He didn’t have much time. He’s headed to rehearse for Fallon right after lunch.”

“So you two still pretending to be just friends?”

“Pretty much.” I’ve stopped denying it. We are more than friends, and I have to figure out what I’m going to do about it.

“Would it really be so wrong to just do it? Just give it a shot with him?”

“Yes, wrong on so many levels.”

“Tell me more about these levels. Kai.”

“First of all, he’s a huge rock star for God’s sake. People will assume he got me where I’m going. I don’t need that. I want to earn this on my own and for there to be no doubt how I got there.”

San shrugs and turns his lips down in that way that always tells me he thinks I’m full of shit.

“That’s pretty flimsy to me, Kai, but if you say so.”

“It’s not flimsy. It’s true.”

“And the other level it’s so wrong on?”

“Well, for another thing he’s a huge rock star.”

“That sounds suspiciously like the first level.”

“Let me finish. He’s a great guy, but he is a rock star. He’s going on tour. Do you really think he can be faithful? Can be depended on? To stick? To stick around?”

San cocks his head to the left, studying me with a new understanding in his eyes. All of a sudden, I’m glad I still have the green goop on my face to hide behind.

“Just makes me wonder if we’re really talking about Rhyson.” He pauses, his eyes breaking it to me gently before he continues. “Or if this is actually about your dad.”

And with that parting shot, he turns on his heel and walks away.

I hate it when he knows me better than I know myself.

“NOW WHOSE PARTY IS THIS AGAIN?”

I’m just about to answer Kai’s question when she comes down the tiny hall of her tiny apartment wearing a tiny top and jeans that cling to the luscious curve of her hips and ass.

“Uh . . .” What was the question?

“The party?” Kai prods me with raised brows. “Whose birthday party is it and am I dressed okay?”

She’s wearing makeup, which I haven’t seen much. Smoky eye shadow exaggerates the tilt of her almost-black eyes. Her lips are lush and nude colored. The dark hair I can barely keep my hands out of on the best of days rolls past her shoulders in a dark, straight, shiny curtain. Her bright-red top falls well below her breasts, but still leaves the subtle, sexy pack of tight abdominal muscles on display. When she moves just the right way, I can see the small script tattoo curving under her breast and over her delicate rib cage. I want to make her move in just the right way all night.

“Yeah, the party.” Think using the other head. “It’s my friend, Jimmi’s, birthday party.”

“Jimmi as in Jimmi Dawson? The singer?” Kai’s dark brows jerk together, and she looks down at what she’s wearing. “Is this, like, a big deal party?”

“No, it’s super casual. Look at what I’m wearing.”

I know it’s different for guys, but my dark wash jeans and Bob Marley hoodie should reassure her that this isn’t exactly a red-carpet event.

“Okay.” She grabs her keys from the hook on the wall. “I’m ready.”

I’m not. I just got back from New York yesterday, and today is the first time I’ve seen her since we rode dune buggies at Pismo Beach. I’d rather stay here and endure another season of Sex and the City than share her company with other people. But Jimmi will castrate me if I don’t show. She still might. I’m not great at hiding my attraction for Kai. Jimmi will spot that shit right away. Considering the last real conversation we had was me telling Jimmi we should just forget we slept together, she might not be happy that I’m showing up with another girl at her birthday party.