Boxers do it before a fight. Athletes, too, before a game or meet. But, if you don’t learn how to transmutate that energy, it can drive you crazy. I’ve started meditation and I’ve been working out with a trainer. I’m really learning how to harness all this sexual energy for the betterment of myself.”
They ended their interview with a question. “How long do you think this will last?”
I really don’t know. The tone and words he used sound a little pretentious and superior, but also genuine and frank. To share that with the world—I don’t think I could do it. But, now people are thinking about the lack of sex in his life instead of the woman he was holding in his car that night.
Kind of weird, but it worked, right? Twitter is all abuzz with the story. I’ve checked for any mentions about me anywhere on social media. There’s not a lot, except for the promo. I haven’t been asked to do any interviews, yet.
Mostly what I think about are those cold showers, those nights alone when he’s not used to it. And, tonight, there’s so much on my shoulders.
The music starts and Kolton looks impassive, bored even. I stare at him, daring him to notice that I’m trying to make the best choices for me, for Riley. As I open my mouth to sing, “Burn,” I feel it all at once—him, me, us. Shamelessly, I point at him and his jaw tightens. He looks anxious in his seat.
It’s all inside me. I need to let it out. Him keeping me in his house, demanding I stay. The running away, him coming to get me in his car, the helicopter ride. His voice when he told me I had the controls of the helicopter—of us. The feel of his kiss, the taste of the skin over his heart. His promises for my twenty-first birthday. The picture of his parents above their bed—all his loss, which I completely understand because I have my own. And finally, when he told me he would have to learn how to live without me.
He chose this song for me. He was trying to tell me—all of it. This song, it runs through my veins like a life force. They will try to stop us. We will have to fight it. And it burns.
It burns.
I have no idea how I sound. I’m just letting it all out on the stage. Jessie and me, we play off one another.
Until the music stops. I’m sweating and pain creeping upward, coming from a place deep inside.
The judges are standing, clapping. Kolton’s expression is something like pride. I don’t even know what everyone is saying. The lights are bright and my ears are full of feedback from the speakers or something. It looks like Selma and Danny are arguing about us. I take the earpiece out and I hear Selma say, “But yes, Jessie was spot on. She never missed a single cue. She was perfect. But Mia, she made me cry. God, she broke my heart up there.”
Chuck Faraday interjects, “It looks like a tie, ladies and gentlemen. So we’ll have to go to our celebrity judge, Priscilla Ray. What do you think Priscilla?”
She taps the table a few times with her long, fake nails. Her lips are too big, I’ve just noticed. She’s an older woman trying to look young again, but bee-stung lips just make her look like she’s trying too hard. Mental note: Less is more.
Her expressionless face and eyes, caked with layers of smoky eye shadow, look up at me and then Jessie, who takes my hand, making me smile.
“I—I have to go with my gut, here,” she says, her lips making her voice sound funny. “To be honest, honey, you nearly blew it,” she says, directed at me, “with all that emotion on stage. It’s pretty obvious that you weren’t trying to win. I don’t know what you were trying to do, but I think you did it.”
That’s really ambiguous. I could be off the show if she keeps talking like that. Kolton readjusts himself in his seat—he looks pissed.
“There’s one of you up there I would sign in a heartbeat. One of you,” she says, and taps the table again with her glittered gel nails.
“The winner of this round is—Mia Phoenix!” I should be jumping up and down or something; that’s what they want from me. So I do it, even though it’s not how I’d normally act. It’s all a façade—the colorful lights, the stage decorations, the heavy make-up on all of us, even the guys. Me, jumping: a mirage for their entertainment.
I turn to Jessie. It’s like slow motion. “I’m sorry,” I say and hug her. This is her dream, too, after all. Up in the corner, over Jessie’s shoulder, I see Joyce McKim. She’s twisting a pen in her hands. This didn’t go as she’d planned.
I turn and look at Kolton. I mouth the words, “I chose.” His face softens and his lips turn up. It’s a real smile, one from somewhere genuine inside him.
“Let me remind the coaches that Jessie Law is available to steal.”
The coaches are looking at each other. It’s all just a game to them; we are the pieces on the game board. Danny, the country guy, reaches forward and presses his button. “I said it before, Jessie. You won this round, and the hearts of a lot of America, tonight.” She runs over and hugs him before the two of us exit stage right.
“You seemed to be in another place during your performance. Why so emotional?” The producer asks during my after-performance interview.
“I just really felt it. The song is a beautiful one—it’s about love, other people’s jealousy, and not letting anyone put out the fire that burns inside.”
“Well, you did an awesome job!” she tells me, before scooting me out of the way. I don’t even know what to do now. Then Riley comes running up to me.
“Mia! Mia! You won!” She jumps into my arms and hugs me harder than she ever has. “You’re famous now, huh!”
“Not yet,” I say, running my fingers through her hair. “Do you want a milkshake?”
“A chocolate one?”
“Yeah, a chocolate one.” We walk together to the cafeteria. It’s an impressive place with Starbucks coffee and Dryers ice cream. I drink a skinny white mocha and Riley scoops big mouthfuls of her shake into her mouth. “I’ve missed you, Riles. It’s not like home being here. Is it?”
“Nope. I miss you, too.” She seems unaffected because she’s so resilient. Like after the fire, she didn’t cry all the time. She’d get mad at me sometimes, but she didn’t really let it out. “I like Deloris,” she says, out of the blue.
“I do, too. Why’d you mention that?”
“’Cause I wish—” and then she stops eating. Puts her hands on the table and stares at them.
“Riley?”
“I wish she was my real grandma.” I stand up and walk around the table to sit beside her. I put my arm around her and let her cry. She doesn’t do this much, but I’m proud of her. It’s good to let it out. She needs someone in her life that can dedicate time to her, help her grow up. I want that to be me, but I’ve been so busy trying to keep us going I haven’t done enough to help her feel loved.
“Riley, I promise, I’ll do the best I can so we can keep Deloris after the show, okay?”
“Promise, Mia?” she says, turning to me. Her front teeth are too big for her mouth and show when she cries. They make me love her more.
“I promise.” I tell her and stick out my pinky. She sticks hers out, too, and we shake them. I see Deloris peek into the cafeteria, raising her eyebrows, like ‘is she okay?’
I nod and hug her tighter, waving Deloris in. “Look who’s back?”
“You okay, Punkin’?” Deloris asks. Oh my God, I love that she calls her that. Riley looks up at me like we have a secret and nods her head. Her little face still has tears on it, but she’s smiling as she picks up her spoon and shovels in a big chocolatey bite.
“Kolton asked me to give this to you,” Deloris says, handing me an envelope with a note and key.
Meet me in my trailer at 5:00. That’s my break time. I need to see you. #13.
Kole
I check my phone—four-thirty. So I drink my coffee and Riley eats her milkshake. Deloris nibbles a cookie, and, for a minute, it feels like we’re family.
* * *
As I’m walking over, I realize I’d forgotten Kolton had a trailer. So, I’m hoping as I open the lock on
number thirteen that no one else notices what I’m doing. I’d walked around for a while first, to make sure I wasn’t followed. I climb the metal stairs and sit down at the table in the dark. I’m shaking. I hear my hands with the note clutched in them tapping the underside of the table. I feel nauseated and stand up, checking my phone. Five-thirty.
The door opens and he takes a deep breath, closing it behind him. “Come here,” he says. I walk toward him and he puts his hand at the small of my back, pulling me into his chest.
“Kolton?”
“You chose me. Again.” He’s holding me, his body shaking a little as he keeps me close. “I’ve missed you.”
“Me, too,” I say, tilting my chin so my lips brush the underside of his jawline.
“I can’t,” he says, and I start to pull away. “That’s not what I meant.” He holds tight to the small of my back, his fingers pushing into the spot just before my curves. He’s staring into my eyes. It hurts and feels good in the same moment. “I think we should see each other in secret.”
Relief. It’s like we have this tiny blossom growing in the dark with no one to tend to it. We should do it together. I nod my head and that’s all it takes.
He picks me up off my feet and kisses me. Wrapping his arms around the underside of my leg, he leans me into the little closet door and presses himself into my aching core. “I’m hard like this. All. The. Time,” he says in between kissing each lip and circling my tongue with his. “Do you know why?” he asks. He’s breathless and so am I.
“No.”
“Because you’re all I think about. All I want. And you just chose me.” He rubs up against me and bites my upper lip, then licks the pain away. His jeans are rubbing against mine. “You didn’t leave me,” he says, drawing his tongue up my neck to just behind my ear. It’s achingly sad to me that he’s so afraid of being abandoned. And why wouldn’t he? He’s lost the only people who loved him.
Knock, knock. Two hard pounds on the metal door. We both jump and turn toward the sound.
“Go in the room and shut the door,” he whispers. I untangle my leg from his hip, touch my wet lips, and stumble into the little room and close the door, clicking it in place. I move away, just in case it opens. There’s nowhere to hide, but I stand to the side near the corner.
I hear the door open and the trailer rocks a little as someone steps in. They are whispering; it’s a woman’s voice. I don’t move or they’ll know I’m here.
“You’d better keep your distance from that girl.” It’s Joyce McKim, the producer. “We can’t afford any more stories about you playing favorites. I’m talking lawsuit, Kolton. I’m talking you, not just us, losing a lot of money. This show is going to survive this season and get renewed for another, or so help me God.”
“I understand,” Kolton says. “I haven’t seen her since last week.”
“We’ve had to put a gag order on our entire staff. All this speculation about who she is, it could ruin the validity of this show.”
“I did the interview. No one’s talking about her anymore.”
“Let me put it this way: if you keep seeing her, we’re going to sue you for breach of contract. We’ll have to cover it up, say you had to go to rehab. We’ll bring in that other guy, the one from Distant Star. He could come right in and replace you. But she will go, too. We’ll make up something about her needing to take some time away for her sister. You’d better believe, if we do that, someone’s going to make the connection between you two. Our hands will be clean. How about yours?”
“How long?” he asks.
“Until the end of the season. Then do as you please.”
“Fuck this.” Silence. More Silence. Joyce is good at the silent stand-off. “Fine,” Kolton breathes.
“This has caused enough problems as it is. They cut shows from our schedule when we couldn’t make up the time after we tried to switch her to another team. Now this. None of you did as you were told. None of you. She’s still right where she started.”
“I won’t see her outside of our shoots. You have my word.”
“What is it about this girl?” she asks.
“I’ve already told you,” he answers.
“Well, I hope she’s worth it.”
“You have no fucking idea how ‘worth it’ she is,” he says. I realize my hand is over my heart. And, God help me, I think I’ve fallen for him. In fact, I know I have, just like someone who’s tripped over the edge of the cliff. The bottom is near, but there’s nothing that can be done to stop the fall.
“If this show does well, she could be a big star. I get it—but you’re standing in her way.”
“Got it, Joyce. Okay?” he says before she slams the door behind her.
I hear his footsteps coming toward the door. When he opens it, his hand is up in his hair. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
“Kole, this is so much worse than I thought.” We’re doomed. And is it even worth it? How do I know I can really trust him and that this isn’t just lust?
“I love it when you call me that,” he says, with the light from the window behind me shining into his eyes just before they close.
“I swear. She just threatened you and—”
“I’m doing this for you,” he says, sitting on the bed. “Fuck them. They can sue me. I don’t give a fuck. I have more money than I can spend in this lifetime. I won’t stand in your way. I want to give you the chance to make it on your own.”
“I’d better go.” I stand up, but he doesn’t move out of my way.
“Not yet,” he says, his voice stern. When I don’t move, he leans into me and whispers, “I’ve been waiting for you all my life.” My heart drops heavily into my stomach. I want to believe him. He’s saying all the right things.
“We’re going to get in trouble.”
“I won’t even touch you,” he says. “I just miss feeling you next to me. Let me steal a moment with you.” His voice breaks my heart. I do as he says and lie back on the stiff bed. He climbs up next to me, lying on his side; he doesn’t touch me with anything but his eyes.
“You’re telling the truth,” I say, because I know right in this moment that it’s true.
“Everything I say to you from now on, yes. I won’t lie to you anymore.”
“I believe you.” I know he really wants me to say the word ‘trust.’ It’s his favorite word. I can’t say it, yet. He could touch me, if he wanted to, but, there’s something honest in the space between us. When he reaches up and moves my hair away from my face, I know I’m meant to be his. There is no doubt, but I don’t speak the words. He might get scared when I say it. So, I busy myself with my mouth in other ways.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Steps Ahead
“What’s wrong this time?” I ask, as Kolton gets up, adjusting himself in his pants and zipping himself back up.
“I’m saving you from yourself,” he says, putting distance between us. “We can’t, not yet, and definitely not here.”
“You tease my body. Kiss me. Touch me. You tell me I have the control in this relationship and then as soon as I do something, you’re calling the shots again?”
“I don’t want a blow job, Mia. When we’re together, it’s going to be all about you.”
“You treat me like a child.”
“Like the saint you are,” he says, and chuckles.
“Well, I’m not. I’m not so innocent, you know.” He laughs, which grates on my nerves like nothing before. “What’s so fucking funny?”
“Oh, I like you mad. You’re adorable.” That does me in. I want away from him. I was just trying to do something for him. It’s embarrassing it’s not enough. As I try to push past him to get out of the little room, he blocks the door.
“Just let me go.”
“Mia.” I ignore him, feeling the scowl on my face. “Mia, you want me?” he asks, and I feel like I turn to butter in front of him.
“Yes,” I admit, I feel heated that he’s making me say it out loud.
“Then you need to start taking birth control.”
“What?”
“I’ve just gotten a clean bill of health. Do you know why I’ve done that? Why I made sure?” I shake my head ‘no.’ “Because I’m going to take you, over and over. And, when I do, there will be nothing between us.” He takes me by my hair and tilts my mouth up to his, claiming me like I’m his, like he owns me, and pushes me backward until I fall on the bed.
He opens my legs and kneels between them. I start to wiggle when he moves over me, hovering on his elbows. “Hold still,” he says, before pressing into me, circling his hips against me, rubbing up against my core once, twice, again, until I’m shaking with need.
“I’m going to empty myself inside you over and over. I’m going to fill you, claim you again and again.” He grasps my hips, pinning me in place, and keeps moving until I feel like I can’t take it anymore. His voice, the look of pain and pleasure in his face, the way he’s moving, it’s like he owns me. I’m grinding myself against him, jeans against jeans. I’m going to break open.
“That’s what you want?” My face is hot; I’m frantic, and unashamed.
“Yes,” I say, as he brings his mouth to mine, taking my gasps into his mouth like food for the soul.
“Oh, I like that, Mia. If you could see what I see,” he says and I lose it. My legs stiffen, my hips pressing into him. “Say my name,” he whispers into my mouth.
“Kole,” I whisper. He presses into me as I shiver and writhe. “Kole,” I moan as quiet as possible. He kisses me as I squeeze my legs around his back. The long skinny heels of my boots cross one another as I’m shaking, letting him kiss my cheeks, my lips, my neck.
“That’s how it should be. That was mine. The first of many with my name on your lips.” I’m in a daze and my ears are pounding with my own heartbeat. I’m trying to catch my breath. A knot forms in my stomach. All at once, I regret just doing what we’ve done. I mean, what was that? Was that foreplay? I’ve never had foreplay like that before.
The Stage (Phoenix Rising #1) Page 14
