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Micki gives me a mock salute, a bright blue tattoo of a guitar on his forearm. “Hey Aria,” he says. “Welcome.”
Kace points at a tall muscular black man with a buzz cut. “That’s Marvin Gay. My producer.”
I blink up at him and then at Marvin. “Marvin Gay?”
“My parents loved them some Marvin,” Marvin says, holding his hands out to his sides. “And so here I am. Making music with Kace.”
He’s friendly and easy to instantly like. I laugh and Kace points out one more person. A tall dark-haired man—and I mean tall, like six feet four—with curly dark hair who I age in his mid-forties, based on the salt and pepper of his goatee. “That’s my manager, Sam,” Kace adds, “otherwise known as Bear and not because he’s tall. He’s a real cranky ass.”
“Don’t believe him,” Bear says. “I’m a honey bear. Sweet as can be. His bastard agent, Nix, is the one to watch out for.”
“He kind of is,” Kace whispers conspiratorially, “but he’s not here.” He motions to Sara to join us, which prompts Chris to cup her head, the bright colors of what I now know is a dragon tattoo, or rather full sleeve, on display, as he kisses her and then murmurs something to her. I watch them, the way they lean into each other, and there’s a raw sensuality about them, but also a deep bond beyond that sensuality that I can’t seem to help but envy.
“Sara will take good care of you when I’m on stage,” Kace informs me, and then leans in, nuzzling my neck. “I promise to take good care of you when I’m off.”
My cheeks burn, and based on his laugh, all low and sexy, he doesn’t miss the redness. “You are such a contradiction, baby.”
I have no idea what this means, except for the fact that I made out with him in the hallway and then blushed at his suggestive words. “I like it,” he adds, the playfulness of the moments before shifting to something far more intense, something I can’t quite name, but there is a crackling current between us that literally steals my breath. I want this man and he is so beyond dangerous, but I just can’t seem to care. I wonder if that’s how Gio feels about Sofia. I wonder if that led him down a path of temptation and destruction. Will it do the same to me? Will Kace?
The spell between us is broken as Sara appears before us in a stunning silver knee-length dress, greeting us with a bright smile. “Ready for this, Kace?” she asks.
“Always,” he assures her, and then glances down at me, his hand warm on my lower back, his gaze sweeping my mouth and lifting. “See you soon,” he says softly, and somehow he manages to turn those simple words into a seduction.
He releases me, heading to the stage, and I’m far too cold without that man’s hands on my body for my own good.
“We’re in the front,” Sara announces, motioning me toward the chairs.
I follow her lead and we settle into our spots at the end of the aisle. Kace has now started to play a few random notes, testing his tuning. The sound of his violin vibrates through me, nestling deep in my soul and threatening to stir a million memories.
“I’m really excited about this,” Sara says. “Chris and Kace have been talking about performing together since they were both at the same charity event a year and a half ago.”
“They’ve known each other for a long time, right?”
“Forever, even before I met Chris, but that event was really where they became friends, not acquaintances. And now they have three events and back-to-back shows together. Are you going with us to Austin and California?”
He’s leaving again. That’s what I take from her question and it’s my reality check on what to expect in the future. Kace leaves. That’s what Kace does. “No,” I say. “We’re just getting to know each other.”
“And yet here you are.”
My brows furrow. “What does that mean?”
“He doesn’t bring women to his shows. He doesn’t let anyone inside his personal life, not even his crew.”
“Why me?” I ask, speaking what is on my mind without meaning to.
“You’ll have to ask Kace that question, but as Chris always says to me, because you’re you. I know what it’s like to be with a man who seems bigger than life, but underneath the fame, he’s a man. Just a man. One not likely to trust easily and that comes from life lessons. Don’t forget that.”
No one understands life lessons more than me, but as for me being me—I’m not me. I’m a lie, which only makes her words about trust more powerful. “Thank you,” I say and I turn my gaze to Kace as he plays a small bit off Prince’s Purple Rain and then stops, talking to Marvin and Chris.
