When she pulled up in front of her apartment in the two-story walk-up, just above the Joo Mak Gol Restaurant, she almost missed the dark blue Range Rover with tinted windows idling about halfway down the block. She paid the cab driver, tipping him far too much in her eagerness and watched as the SUV’s door opened.
When Shawn stepped out, it was from the passenger side. He paused to lean in and speak to the driver then stretched and yawned hugely. For a moment he looked exhausted, but then he saw her and smiled. He’d gotten a little sun lately and in the dim light, to Riley appeared almost golden. Wearing jeans with a light blue button-down hanging open and white t-shirt underneath, he looked amazing. Riley ran to meet him halfway, and Shawn caught her as she jumped on him wrapping her arms about his neck, legs about his hips and burying her face in his neck.
Chapter Four
Shawn walked about the apartment, looking around and taking it all in while Riley changed. There were books in every spare corner and magazines with Post-its sticking out of them. Pictures of her with Tracy and of an ever-repeating group of friends were on almost every surface and the walls. And finally, there was a large black-and-white of Riley and a woman with a vague resemblance who had to be her mother.
Shawn leaned in to get a closer look. They were both dressed in white button-down shirts and jeans, and were barefoot sitting cross-legged against a light-colored backdrop. Their heads were slightly turned and inclined to face each other. Lorna Terry’s hair was in braids that fell just below her shoulders. She had a calm, serene expression and the same smooth, clear skin as her daughter, but her eyes were much more searching and intense and she had fine lines bracketing her wide mouth, like laugh lines. Or maybe they were frown lines. He would have to meet her to decide which.
One other picture interested him; Riley was with a light-skinned dude, sitting in what looked like Central Park while Frisbee players ran in the background. The expression on his face as he looked at Riley was what captured Shawn’s interest. He was definitely into her. And not just a little bit either. So this was Brian.
Shawn wondered who had taken the photo. Tracy? If so, it probably explained her attitude. He turned the frame facedown and moved on.
The rest of the apartment was standard New York outer-borough – slightly musty smell, like old wood, paint and varnish. Small bathroom, ridiculously small kitchen and a bedroom that looked like it had been a walk-in closet in its former life. He’d been here only once before, to pick Riley up and take her back to the hotel where he’d been staying. That time she’d seemed as eager to have him out of there as he had been to be gone. Back then, this was Brian’s territory.
But that was then, he thought.
Riley came out of the bedroom barefooted and fresh-faced, wearing black leggings and a white tank.
“Is the driver waiting for you? I could’ve sworn I saw the Range Rover still outside.”
“It is. He’s not really a driver, he’s a bodyguard.”
“Do you need one?”
Shawn laughed. “Nah. It’s just Brendan’s way of making sure I get to the plane at six.”
“Six a.m.?” Riley’s face fell.
“Yeah.”
She looked as though she wanted to say something more, but didn’t. Shawn sat on the back of her sofa, legs apart, and pulled her into his arms. She smelled incredible.
“You can take your jacket off, at least,” Riley said, sounding something just short of angry. She peeled his brown leather jacket down over his shoulders and tossed it aside. “Or are you planning to leave soon?”
“At four,” he said, yawning.
“That’s ridiculous.” She was definitely sounding angry now. “You must be exhausted. Why did you do this?”
“So you’d stop thinking crazy shit about what you saw in that magazine.”
She blushed and looked down, fidgeting with the chain around his neck.
“I’m sorry. I hadn’t heard from you . . .”
“It’ll be like that sometimes,” he said, tipping her chin upward. “When I’m working and on the road sometimes it’s just mad hectic.”
“It’s never been that way,” she pointed out. “You always had time.”
The tone of her voice was one he’d never heard before. Hell, this whole thing was a revelation – that she noticed or cared who he went to stupid industry parties with would never have occurred to him. It was worth the trip just to see this look on her face, and hear this tone in her voice. For the first time, he seriously considered that he might not be in this thing all by himself, that maybe she was in it up to her neck like he was.
“I made time before. Time I didn’t really have.”
“And now you’re not going to make time?”
“I did tonight, right?”
“That’s true. You did. Crazy as it is.”
She took his hand, leading him into the bedroom. The covers had been pulled back and the lights were off. The only illumination came from a row of tea lights on a bookshelf. Riley pushed him back so he was seated on the edge of the bed and kneeled to remove his boots. Then she pulled his t-shirt free of his pants and crawled onto the bed, pushing him onto his back as she lay down, and fitting herself spoon-fashion against his chest and resting his arms about her waist.
“You’re not relaxing,” she whispered.
“I don’t want to fall asleep,” he said.
“It’s okay. I’ll wake you at four.”
But if he slept he would awaken to find that their time together was spent. Still, Shawn closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the softness of the bed and the smell and velvety texture of the back of her neck.
“Whose birthday is it?”
“Dawn’s. A friend of mine from work. She’s crazy. You’ll like her.”
He liked that she said “you’ll” like her. It assumed a future that he still wasn’t certain of.
“Know what I was thinking?” he asked.
“What?”
“Jamaica,” he said. “I was thinking about you and me on the beach in Negril. Chillin’.”
“Sounds great,” she said, sounding as sleepy as he felt. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”
“Or Phuket. In a thatched roof cottage. Or in a wilderness lodge someplace.”
“These fantasies are of increasingly remote places,” she said laughing softly.
“Sometimes I just want it to be quiet. Quiet and still and peaceful. That’s what you are for me,” Shawn told her. “Y’know?”
Riley turned so they were facing each other, their legs intertwined, faces inches apart. She smiled at him and Shawn smiled back.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“It’s true.”
“What’s it like other times?” she asked.
“Hard to explain. Even when I’m supposedly taking a break, it’s like sleeping with the television on. You never really feel rested. Y’know what I mean?”
Riley nodded and waited for him to continue.
“When I was eighteen, I had my first hit single and all these people wanted me on their shows and in their magazines and my video was on BET and MTV all the time. People started recognizing me when I went out.
“There was one day when I just wanted to go home to DC. That’s all. Just go someplace where I was just Shawn, y’know? Everything was just moving so fast, and I didn’t have a chance to even think about how I felt about it. All I wanted was to hang out in Anacostia Park.
“And my manager at the time was this older white dude that the label got me, right? So I go to him and I say, ‘Man, I’m losing it. I need to get away for a little while.’
“And I tell him the one place I want to go to is Anacostia Park, this spot where I used to chill, y’know? And he looks at me, all understanding and sympathetic. And he goes, ‘Okay, let me see if I can fix it so the Park is closed to the public for a couple of hours.’ Right then, I knew my life would never be the same. And it never has been.”
Riley said nothing, listening.
“But don’t get me wrong,” he continued. “I love what I do. I love my life. But after awhile, you realize that a lot of it is shit that was basically made up. Arranged for your convenience.”
“This isn’t made up,” Riley said.
She kissed him, her lips soft and warm, pressed briefly against his. Shawn leaned in closer, pulling her toward him again and using his tongue to part her lips. As their kiss deepened, he shifted so that he was above her, his elbows on either side of her face. Riley opened her legs and he pressed against her, frustrated that they were separated by his jeans, her leggings. As they kissed, he moved rhythmically against her, increasingly insistent until she reached for his hand and placed it between her legs, moving her hips upward to meet it.
Shawn raised his head for a moment. Riley looked surprised, quizzical.
“This isn’t the reason I came tonight, y’know that right?” he said.
Riley looked amused and after a few moments trying to hold it in, spluttered into laughter.
“What?” Shawn asked, confused.
She put a hand up to his face and he leaned into her touch.
“Are you afraid I might think you’re using me for my body?” she asked, trying to keep a straight face.
Shawn shrugged.
“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” she said. She squirmed beneath him and shimmied off her leggings. “And besides, maybe I’m using you for your body. Just sayin’.”
Shawn looked at her. “That’s not funny,” he said.
Riley looked at him, and her face grew serious. “It was a joke, though.”
“Listen,” Shawn said, in part to change the subject, “about that magazine, and all that mess . . .”
“I shouldn’t have called you about something so stupid. I didn’t mean for you to drop everything and come out here. I was just . . .”
“Jealous,” Shawn finished for her.
Riley opened her mouth as though to deny it then shut it again. She nodded slowly.
Shawn reached down again, slipping his hand into her underwear, stroking her, making a circular motion with two fingers, watching as her eyes closed and her lips parted, feeling her getting wet and slippery at his touch. She exhaled and her minty, cool breath caressed his face.
“You thought I was doing this to someone else?” he said against her ear.
She nodded, opening her legs wider to make way for him.
“And this?” he unexpectedly slipped a finger inside her and she gasped, arching toward his hand.
“Um hm,” she pulled in her lower lip.
“If you knew that I was, how would that make you feel?” he asked, moving his thumb against her clitoris.
“I don’t know,” Riley breathed.
“Yes you do. Tell me,” he insisted. Shawn rested his full weight on her for a moment as he unbuttoned his jeans and lowered the zipper.
“It would . . . I wouldn’t like it,” she said, panting now.
“Is that all?” he said, putting his mouth against her neck. He was tempted to make his mark there, but instead kissed her again. “You wouldn’t like it?”
“I would hate it,” she admitted when he released her lips.
She looked him directly in the eye, lightly biting his lower lip as she helped tug his jeans down over his hips. She pushed his hand out of the way, pulling her panties aside and guiding him toward her. Riley exhaled sharply as he entered her, and held him in place so he wouldn’t move, then Shawn felt her nails bite into him, urging him even deeper. For a moment he lost his train of thought.
“I would hate it,” she said again, this time breathing directly into his ear, “to know that you were doing this with someone else.”
She sounded so possessive, he almost came right then.
“Then you know just how I feel,” he managed to say.
Riley’s lifted her eyes to his and blinked.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Shawn closed his eyes and began moving, thrusting deeper inside her, his face buried in her neck, finally allowing himself not to think, just feel.
g
He was awakened at almost three-forty by the sound of a car horn blaring from the street below. Riley was still asleep, her head resting on his arm. Shawn slowly pulled free and sat up. It was cold so he pulled the comforter up and over her shoulders. He yawned, listening to the distant sound of police sirens, voices in the street and the wind. He wanted nothing more than to stay exactly where he was but he had to be back for two shows in Phoenix, and then on to Salt Lake City. Four shows, three interviews, one music video shoot and he would be back in New York.
He sat on the edge of the bed watching her sleep for a few minutes more before getting dressed. As he left, first checking to make sure the door had locked behind him, he grabbed the photo of Riley and Brian from the sofa table and dumped it in a trash can at the curb underneath a greasy bag of what smelled like leftover Chinese food.
If Tiny had been responsible for the horn that woke Shawn up, he didn’t say and Shawn didn’t ask. He was still in the SUV outside, wide awake and listening to Z-100. In the proud tradition of the ghetto, Tiny’s nickname was pure irony, because he was by far the biggest dude Shawn had ever met. Three hundred and fifty pounds of pure brawn. He was a former professional football player who’d suffered a torn ACL, the most dreaded of career-ending injuries. Since then, he’d worked for dozens of celebrities, finally settling into a position as personal “body man” for Chris Scaife.
Chris was the most powerful producer and record executive in hip-hop, a close friend and perennial rival of Shawn’s. Brendan had called him when Shawn announced his plan to travel solo to New York, and asked that someone shadow him for the evening and return him safely to the airport in the morning.
Shawn had worked with Tiny only when he was with Chris, and was surprised when he insisted on sitting outside Riley’s apartment, no matter how long the wait. No doubt Chris made it more than worth his while to be this thorough.
“A’ight Big Man, let’s roll,” Shawn said as he slid into the passenger seat.
On the radio, the Isley Brothers were singing ‘Footsteps in the Dark.’ Shawn smiled.
“Straight to the airport?” Tiny asked.
“Straight to the airport,” Shawn confirmed.
“She must be something,” Tiny said, pulling away from the curb. “For you to come all this way and jet back in a few hours.”
“She is,” Shawn said, and then after a second or two. “How ‘bout you? You married, man?”
“Fifteen years in November. Nothing like it.”
Shawn looked at him, interested now. “For real?”
“If it’s the right woman, yeah.”
Shawn laughed. “But that’s the tricky part.”
“Not for me,” Tiny said shaking his head. “I knew when I met her that that was the way it was supposed to be, and I haven’t regretted it since.”
Shawn didn’t think he’d always known that was “the way it was supposed to be” with Riley. At first his visits were about trying to get her out of his system. He kept telling himself with each trip to New York that this was probably the last time, that this time she would be boring or the sex would have gotten old or that she would pressure him for more than he was prepared to give. But it never happened.
Instead, each encounter opened a new door revealing something about her that pulled him in even deeper. She made him think, she made him laugh and sometimes she even made him forget that his life was so far from normal that even a trip alone to 7-Eleven was out of the question.
It was a relief when he’d finally accepted that he might never satisfy his curiosity about her. And that was okay, as long as she would be his wife. It was funny how quickly he’d gotten used to the idea of being married, although to hear Brendan tell it, he didn’t understand exactly what he was getting into.
When Shawn told him about the ring and the proposal, he’d been quiet
for about a minute and then finally managed a piece of advice.
Y’know man, it ain’t just Riley who’ll be on lockdown. You ready for all that?
I’ll think about that part later, Shawn had said.
Brendan looked at him, his face expressionless. That’s the dumbest shit I ever heard.
And he still hadn’t thought about “that part.” Although, he had to be doing okay because the last time he’d even thought about messing around with anybody besides Riley was Stephanie in Pittsburgh and even then he’d been perfectly capable of walking away without feeling like he was missing much.
The truth of it was, sometimes he reached for women just because he could; more out of habit and boredom than lust. It would be like any other habit – broken through practice, and the occasional act of sheer will.
He slept for the entire flight to Phoenix Sky Harbor and landed just after eight a.m. local time. Since he had no luggage he was out in no time, managing to avoid most of the curious gazes in the terminal. Shawn could almost see the thought-process on people’s faces as they tried to decide whether he was who they thought he might be and their final decision that he couldn’t possibly be K Smooth, because otherwise, why would he be walking alone through the airport with no luggage, and no entourage?
The key was to avoid eye contact at all costs and keep stepping. That’s why so many celebrities wore sunglasses all the time – it made the “no eye contact” rule so much simpler to follow.
Brendan was waiting outside with a car and Shawn got in, startled by how bright it was already, and how warm.
“Hope it was worth it,” Brendan said under his breath.
“Always is.”
“How’s she doing?”
“Good.”
“Just good?”
“You’re fishin’, B.”
Brendan shrugged. “Just wondering if a wedding is happening anytime soon, that’s all.”
“As soon as I know, you’ll know.”
They drove in silence for awhile until finally Brendan’s restraint gave out once again.
Commitment Page 11
