wherewithal to do what he wanted, a factor
he’d always been painfully aware of. Especially when meeting Zazz, who slept in
squats because he had to, not out of a need for life experience or a grudge
against his folks.
True, Zazz’s father had been one of the most amazing
musicians the jazz world had ever known but he’d shot most of his money and
reputation up his arm or tossed it down his throat before Zazz had grown out of
short pants. Not that Riku could imagine the edgy Zazz wearing short pants.
Except on stage sometimes for effect.
“Besides, what’s with the amateur shrink? I don’t do that!”
“Isn’t that what you did tonight?” He kept his voice quiet,
carefully controlled. “You didn’t face them.”
She sounded as hushed as he did but he heard the tremor when
she spoke. Just a single quiver but it was enough. “I didn’t feel like music.”
He breached the divide, taking the steps that brought him
around the counter and to her. He reached for her, settled his hands on her
upper arms. A ripple eased through him, a release of some of his tension. If
she did this when he merely touched her then what more could she do? He already
understood and he wanted it. More than he cared to admit. “I’m sorry. But you
should have told me.”
“A couple of hours before you were due onstage? How could I
do that?”
He understood but only because she’d shared some of his
past. “Did you feel like that about performing, too?”
“Always.” Auditions, performances, most of their fellow
students, however talented felt that way. Nervous stage fright. They’d said
they had to experience tension to perform.
“I don’t. I’m excited. Know when I’m nervous? When I’m
presenting a new piece to the band. In the old days, it was auditions. But not
when I perform. Then I’m fine. Want to show people what I can do.”
She smiled. “You showed them tonight.”
He grunted. “Yeah. So they say. I only wanted to show you.
Which was stupid.”
“Why?”
She wasn’t shying away from him now. She unclasped her arms
and reached for him, resting her hands on his hips. It was all he needed to
draw her close. He bent his head then drew away again. “I can’t kiss you. We’ll
both end up looking like clowns but I really want to.”
“I don’t care but I have a shower. It’s small but we can fit
in there.”
“Is that an invitation?” He hardly dared breathe. He knew he’d
nearly lost her tonight. Her bathetic no-show reminded him too strongly of what
she’d done before and he didn’t want it to happen twice. Ever. If they parted
he wanted them to part with full understanding of why and how. No lingering
mysteries this time.
Fully aware she’d use sex to avoid a deeper connection, he
couldn’t resist her and she knew it. But he wouldn’t forget his objective, not
this time.
She sighed, a sound of consent. “I owe you that, at least.”
“You owe me nothing, Cyn. I strolled back into your life
this afternoon half expecting you to walk into my arms.”
“Which I did.”
“Which you did. But I walked into yours too. It’s always
that way between us. Nobody gives in to the other, unless they want to.”
She seemed to know what he meant. They’d understood each
other, however abstruse the other person got. “Yes. I’m tired, Riku. I’m sorry
I didn’t stay but I didn’t want to. If I went to the gig, stood in the
audience, everything would sour. What I felt in that room tainted the way I
felt, brought me right down. I do love your music and I didn’t want it taken
away from me. I’d like to put on a Murder City Ravens album and enjoy it like I
always have.”
“You have? You can tell me how much in the shower.” He drew
out his phone and the card. “I need to call my driver. Tell him to go back to
the hotel. I’m hoping we’ll be a while and then if you want to kick me out I’ll
get a cab.”
“I’ve got a double bed.”
He whistled. “A spacious apartment you have
he’d always been painfully aware of. Especially when meeting Zazz, who slept in
squats because he had to, not out of a need for life experience or a grudge
against his folks.
True, Zazz’s father had been one of the most amazing
musicians the jazz world had ever known but he’d shot most of his money and
reputation up his arm or tossed it down his throat before Zazz had grown out of
short pants. Not that Riku could imagine the edgy Zazz wearing short pants.
Except on stage sometimes for effect.
“Besides, what’s with the amateur shrink? I don’t do that!”
“Isn’t that what you did tonight?” He kept his voice quiet,
carefully controlled. “You didn’t face them.”
She sounded as hushed as he did but he heard the tremor when
she spoke. Just a single quiver but it was enough. “I didn’t feel like music.”
He breached the divide, taking the steps that brought him
around the counter and to her. He reached for her, settled his hands on her
upper arms. A ripple eased through him, a release of some of his tension. If
she did this when he merely touched her then what more could she do? He already
understood and he wanted it. More than he cared to admit. “I’m sorry. But you
should have told me.”
“A couple of hours before you were due onstage? How could I
do that?”
He understood but only because she’d shared some of his
past. “Did you feel like that about performing, too?”
“Always.” Auditions, performances, most of their fellow
students, however talented felt that way. Nervous stage fright. They’d said
they had to experience tension to perform.
“I don’t. I’m excited. Know when I’m nervous? When I’m
presenting a new piece to the band. In the old days, it was auditions. But not
when I perform. Then I’m fine. Want to show people what I can do.”
She smiled. “You showed them tonight.”
He grunted. “Yeah. So they say. I only wanted to show you.
Which was stupid.”
“Why?”
She wasn’t shying away from him now. She unclasped her arms
and reached for him, resting her hands on his hips. It was all he needed to
draw her close. He bent his head then drew away again. “I can’t kiss you. We’ll
both end up looking like clowns but I really want to.”
“I don’t care but I have a shower. It’s small but we can fit
in there.”
“Is that an invitation?” He hardly dared breathe. He knew he’d
nearly lost her tonight. Her bathetic no-show reminded him too strongly of what
she’d done before and he didn’t want it to happen twice. Ever. If they parted
he wanted them to part with full understanding of why and how. No lingering
mysteries this time.
Fully aware she’d use sex to avoid a deeper connection, he
couldn’t resist her and she knew it. But he wouldn’t forget his objective, not
this time.
She sighed, a sound of consent. “I owe you that, at least.”
“You owe me nothing, Cyn. I strolled back into your life
this afternoon half expecting you to walk into my arms.”
“Which I did.”
“Which you did. But I walked into yours too. It’s always
that way between us. Nobody gives in to the other, unless they want to.”
She seemed to know what he meant. They’d understood each
other, however abstruse the other person got. “Yes. I’m tired, Riku. I’m sorry
I didn’t stay but I didn’t want to. If I went to the gig, stood in the
audience, everything would sour. What I felt in that room tainted the way I
felt, brought me right down. I do love your music and I didn’t want it taken
away from me. I’d like to put on a Murder City Ravens album and enjoy it like I
always have.”
“You have? You can tell me how much in the shower.” He drew
out his phone and the card. “I need to call my driver. Tell him to go back to
the hotel. I’m hoping we’ll be a while and then if you want to kick me out I’ll
get a cab.”
“I’ve got a double bed.”
He whistled. “A spacious apartment you have
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