The Rhyme of Love (Love in Rhythm & Blues Book 2)

by Love Belvin

  “Soak it off in the tub like Sean,” I advised. “That should help.”

  “Nah. The hell with that.” I turned to find out who was approaching us. “The grill has just been sparked. Issa pool party popping off!” Irv announced, his face lit with excitement.

  Teke stood straight, though his posture was still off a bit. “Word? Food?”

  “And you know this!” Irv did some two step. “I got some ass coming through soon. Going to slip on my trunks before she pull up.”

  “Who got the grill?”

  “The chef!” Irv’s face lifted mockingly.

  “That’s all it takes to get you motivated?” I teased Teke.

  His greens landed on me and sparkled. I’d been getting to know that expression. It was one steeped in curiosity and keen interest. It also cued me to bring in my friendliness.

  “You down?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Awww! C’mon, Wynter!” Irv encouraged. “You never wanna chill.”

  “And don’t try to say you gotta work out, ‘cause what we did is enough of a workout for a whole damn month!” Teke challenged.

  I shook my head at his thinking that was such a rigid workout. I was no fitness enthusiast, but I didn’t think the mountain hike to be a gladiator’s obstacle. Right now, I needed a bath and my writing pad to get some things out.

  “What’s the problem? The post?” Irv asked.

  “What post?” Teke’s question was anxious.

  Irv tossed his chin my way. “Spilling That Hot Tea. They posted some shit about you and Raj splitting.”

  My eyes closed, squeezed, then blossomed open. I couldn’t catch myself to prevent it. “What?” burst from my lips.

  Teke turned to face me, examining my reaction. He was such the curious one.

  “You know they stay on some bullshit,” Irv tried. “You see what they posted about y’all.” He snorted.

  Teke’s greens shot derisive bullets into his bandmate. Needing to calm myself to save face, I took a deep breath with closed eyes. When they opened again, I managed a smile. “I’mma need Spilling That Hot Tea to hit me with a heads up before they shoot out their bullshit.”

  Irv chuckled, pulling his basketball shorts up his hips. “Yeah. Fuck ‘em.” He pivoted to leave. “I’mma see y’all. Gotta get ready for shortie. If you see me grinding up on her in the pool, stay the hell away or I may spray y’all wit it, too.” He laughed as he took off for the stairs.

  “Ilk!” Teke charged. “Nasty ass fuck!”

  When he turned back to me, I made my first step to move in the opposite direction of Irv. I didn’t miss the slant in his eyes.

  “Gotta go.” I singsonged, backing away from him.

  “When I see outrageous shit they post about me, I deal by having a good time, living my best fucking life. Come out back and chill.”

  I was to the foot of the staircase. “I’ll think about it.” I smiled, taking off for my wing.

  When I glanced back once on the second floor, Teke was still there, standing with his hands on his hips. I winked, not slowing my stride. The moment I hit the long hall leading to my suite, I pulled my phone up and tapped to get to Instagram. My fingers moved feverishly until I made it to the social media gossip blog’s page. Sure enough, there was a post about speaking to someone in Raj’s camp that said he was ready to call it quits. According to this insider, Raj was finally coming to his senses now that he’d had time away from me to think. My true colors were spilling now that I was with L.I.T. Music and under the arm of Teke. It was clear I had ulterior motives and breaking into the industry was one.

  That shit hurt because none of these people out here knew me. They had no reason to believe this was a lie. It was clear the hospitality I’d been shown was out of respect for Raj. Shaking my head, I made it to the suite, closed the door and immediately started shedding my clothes on the way to the bathroom.

  And where’s he? My thoughts continued to cycle through my mind.

  Why wasn’t he somewhere making it clear this was a lie if—if it was? What if it was true? I hadn’t heard from him once since being out here. Who’s to say he still wanted this agreement? It was, after all, between Mike Brown and me. Mike was now fighting for his life. Maybe Raj was cleaning house. This would be his out of the deal he didn’t want in the first place.

  I showered and toweled off with thoughts shooting out faster than I could censor them. Was he really done with this? If Mike died, would I be free to resume my life marriage-free? What would that mean for Van? For L.I.T. Music? Before I knew it, I’d tossed on shorts and a t-shirt. I grabbed my writing portfolio and iPad and dumped myself on the massive bed and stared at the two, not knowing what to tend to first. The iPad would only lead me to more gossip about my counterfeit life. Opening the writing journal would be futile because I couldn’t stop thinking about my counterfeit life.

  A knock at the door disrupted my self-torture. I hopped off the bed and curiously crossed the room.

  “Oh, hey, Jackson…” I stumbled on my words because he was the last person I expected at my door.

  “What’s going on, Wynter?” It wasn’t an actual question. “Just wanted to let you know the grill’s been lit downstairs. You guys been working since day one. It’ll be good to have some unity in letting your hair down. Come break bread.”

  My head shook slightly and eyes narrowed. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  The boss was at my bedroom door. This was unusual. He’d been in and out since we started. And when he was here, everyone wanted his personal attention, an opportunity to woo him. He’d been gracious to me. Lined me up with Diane Roberts. That fortune was unheard of.

  “Flew in early. Just landed. I’ll be headed out to L.A. to meet with Young about your session next week with him.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I couldn’t shake my stupor.

  Jackson nodded and I thought he turned to leave. “You okay?”

  My eyes shot up. “Huhn?”

  His naturally hooded eyes narrowed with sincerity and his thin lips lifted some. “Are you good here? Comfortable?” Then he stepped closer and lowered his thick nose and bearded chin. “Teke ain’t laying it on too heavy, is he?” His natural baritone turned even deeper.

  My face opened in understanding. “No!” I shook my head, not wanting to erupt trouble in the old boys’ club. I was no stranger to testosterone. What Teke had been serving here in Arizona was child’s play compared to what I’d seen. “Absolutely not. I hope I haven’t given that impression.”

  “Nah.” He scratched the back of his head. He’s the last person I wanted to believe there was something to those rumors. “It’s just I heard you didn’t hang around much after work. Wanted to be sure I was taking care of you. Last thing I need is Raj upset because of my neglect—”

  “No!” I sang, shaking my head convincingly. “Nothing like that. I’ve been on a rigid workout schedule or holed up in here trying to earn my spot in the program. I swear; it’s all good.”

  With poked lips, he nodded he was convinced. “Okay. The pool is crisp,” he tried again as he walked off.

  “I’ll be down.” I decided in that moment.

  Jackson nodded again over his shoulder and I backed to close the door. I reached around my neck to unclasp my necklace, removing it for the first time since receiving it. Then I changed into a bathing suit and headed down to the party.

  I watched as his face scrunched, cheeks rose, and top lip hiked, looking as though he were in pain or discomfort. Hell, I was the one enduring a wire down my throat through my nose. His squinting eyes went to the hand-held camera he used to monitor my insides.

  “I see some inflammation and thin mucous.” His hot breath hit my face, annoying me that he’d just finished munching on fresh salsa and tortilla chips before doing this examination.

  We were on the G550, headed to Vegas, and Captain Morgan had just announced our landing in five minutes. That gave us enough time for this exam. Dr. David McHenry
had been my personal physician assistant for three years now. He was available for travel when I needed a doctor. This trip I needed medical observation. I’d been working and pushing so damn hard, I could feel myself weakening. The problem was, I couldn’t stop. The constant work helped keep my sanity. The result of it was having a flexible laryngoscope snaked down my nose, into my throat.

  He clicked off the camera the inserted wire was attached to, then slowly pulled the flexible wire from my nose. “Not the worse by far, but not good either. You need rest, brother. The new Pacific time zone is going to zap you soon.” He stepped back to the table across from me to clean his professional toy. I wiped my nose and grabbed my decaf green tea. “I know you go straight to the venue for a sound check, but after that, you need to get some rest.” I bucked my brows, reaching for my phone. “I’ll check you again just before you hit the stage. Take a couple of those drops before then.”

  After nodding, I went to my text app and found Jashon’s message.

  J-Exec: All cleared. Car waiting on the other side.

  Binh worked this flight and as he approached I knew what was coming.

  “Please prepare for landing, everyone.” His epicanthic folded eyes narrowed even more as he spoke. “Chairs upright and seatbelts on.”

  Lil Bruh took his seat. He was kicking it with Tina about some new game for PlayStation. I pulled my seatbelt on and sat back, stretching my legs. My phone read four o’ seven, Pacific Standard Time. In my hand, my phone vibrated, and the face switched to a text.

  J-Exec: Yo you see this?

  Next came a screenshot from IG. It was the same post from Wynter’s account about the Chanel jewelry, but Spilling That Hot Tea’s caption read: Post and delete. That description was typical for celebrities and usually meant they realized their mistake in posting something in the first place then backtracked to delete it. It was never a good look. If they only knew, she hadn’t posted that bullshit in the first place. I felt my abs clench in fury. Powerless. I felt straight up weak in my defense of her. I hated it.

  I swiveled around to the back of the jet. Myisha sat with her legs curled under her, holding her Galaxy Tab.

  “What’s the plan?”

  She didn’t answer right away. I guess she’d gotten used to me sidestepping her. But I needed her attention for this.

  She blinked a few times before her mouth moved. She shifted in her seat before her words were ready to spill. “Oh. Ummmm…” Her hand reached up and scratched her head then she glanced down at the tablet again. “You have sound check in like…thirty minutes. After that, you should have time to rest up for the show. I’ll be out looking for that headband to go with your ensemble tonight. I’m looking for new sunglasses, too. When I’m done, I’ll drop them off to your suite—”

  “Nah. Danny G’ll pick them up from you at around seven, eight.”

  Myisha’s forehead lifted. “Oh.” Her eyes skirted over to Danny G, who sat next to a shortie he brought with him. He tossed a nod to Myisha, agreeing then went back to ol’ girl with zero waist and a fat donk. I told him he could bring her on this trip and take a few hours off before the party tonight. “Okay.”

  I nodded, feeling the descension of the jet into Vegas.

  “I have no idea why you’re following me here!” I faux complained, just partially serious.

  He trailed behind me mischievously, humming a silly ditty.

  When I peered over my shoulder, wearing a goofy grin, he stopped with an open face, and gasped. “Teke never lets a fine ass woman walk to her room alone.” He held up the three-finger Scout salute. “It’s my duty to protect and serve.”

  I sputtered a laugh. “Boy, please! We’re not in a crime-ridden city. This is an Arizonian ranch.”

  “You’re still precious.” His expression sobered and voice deepened.

  I turned ahead and saw I was just at my door. Thank goodness. Teke was playing a dangerous game after hours of drinking, eating, and socializing by the pool. I was no fool. Dude wanted to fuck. And while I appreciated his covertness, I wasn’t new to this game. Handsome as fuck and all, I wasn’t up for grabs. Perhaps if my life wasn’t a SNAFU (situation normal, all fucked up) of lies and confusion, I’d give him a try. But as it stood, even my damn heart was jacked up. My life was a mess. What he was proposing was messy. I hated mess almost as much as secrets.

  “And I’m good. Thanks for the laughs, though.”

  There was an elongated period of pause as his face tightened, and he readjusted his stance while apparently wrestling with something. Could Teke produce an unblemished and substantive thought?

  “Why you think they put you all the way on this side of the house?” His vibrant, marble eyes glittered. “You’re away from everybody else.”

  In this tipsy state, a girl could get lost in those. Squeezing my eyes, my face dropped and I pinched the bridge of my nose.

  I muttered, “I have no idea, Teke.” My head lifted and I regarded him again. “But I do know I’m tired as hell and need that bed inside.”

  Lies slipped easily with him. I was nowhere near tired. My ass drank too much, to the point of looseness. If I didn’t retreat, I’d do or say something in front of these people I couldn’t take back. As jacked up as my fake marriage was, I still wouldn’t dare embarrass or compromise his reputation out here. Part of me believed Teke could smell that alcohol-induced vulnerability in me, hence his boldness tonight.

  “It’s only nine,” he tried.

  “And no better time for me to rest up.” I pushed down the lever to one of the doors of my suite. “Gotta get up early for my workout.” Then I opened it with a shoulder, dismissing him.

  When Teke made a move to follow, a startled giggle lunged from my belly and I scurried inside, closing and locking the door behind me. My palm flew to my face in a smack. This was frustrating. Going day after day wearing a mask. There was no one I could be completely honest with about my issues: fears, desires, and…truth. That was the first spark of joviality I’d had in almost two weeks. Slowly, my eyes fluttered open as I released a long breath.

  Immediately, my attention drew to the dark statue in the black and white striped upholstered chair to my right. Another alarmed shrill zipped from my belly and my eyes went wide as I leaped backward on the doors. Mid-shock is when I recognized him. He sat mannequin-esque still with his legs spread apart and brawny arms stretched on either side of the rests. His chin toward the floor, but fiery amber orbs set decidedly on me. They were dark, intent, and wroth…on me.

  Instantly, my distress heated to fury. Before I fully contemplated it, my feet were on the move to him. My mouth balled angrily.

  “Why the fuck are you here?” I croaked, suddenly out of breath.

  He didn’t move, didn’t utter a sound. I couldn’t dismiss the sharp precision in his hairline. The dark small twists on his head looked groomed and glistened, and his beard was thick and fuller than I was used to seeing it. One faded, messy brow was arched high with righteous indignation. His rayless eyes raked over my heaving body starting from my head, down my hard face, to my moving chest, then pelvis, and finally legs and feet. But I noticed when they distinctly journeyed back up to my chest.

  I lifted my arm toward the door. “Answer me or get the fuck out!”

  After a pregnant pause filled with my anxious anticipation, he slowly stood to his feet. Without preamble, he stepped dangerously close to me, his eyes plastered to my chest—and not even my breasts—my chest for some odd reason I didn’t care to deduce. I knew he was weird as fuck but had no more time to waste. And—

  Damn…

  I was in pain. The raw, gut-wrenching ache I’d associated with the memory of him had resurfaced. My face tightened more, eyes strained to hold the tears in, and my lips trembled uncontrollably. It was painful to allow the tears to fall, and yet agony fighting to hold them inside. I decided on the latter.

  And why the fuck was he staring at my chest? My fingers, instinctively, touched where my tear drop diamond h
ung. That’s when my lungs seized, and it clicked. I didn’t want to cave in defeat. It was missing. I’d taken it off earlier, thinking I may go for a swim. I’d been getting in the pool with it since being here, but consciously. Today was the first time I’d taken it off since he clasped it on my neck.

  But what explanation did I owe him? He fucking ran from me—ran me off like it was easy to do. My heart was still stitched up, staples popping out every few days when I would succumb to the agony of his warm memory. He fucking hurt me and didn’t give me time to defend myself.

  Before I could move to my next thought, my arm flew in the air at rapid speed and the palm of my hand collided with the side of his bearded face. His head swayed slightly, but those dark eyes remained on me. My heart beat violently in my chest. His indifference charged me with anger, and contempt pumped heatedly through my veins.

  His nostrils were wide, breathing audible as he glared down at me. He wouldn’t give me a response…the response I needed. All of this because I didn’t wear the necklace? Oh, that was more important than my feelings a couple of weeks ago at his estate? I hauled off and slapped his ass again.

  His hand came up faster than I could register and protect myself. My thin tank, torn at the cleavage as part of its design was ripped, severed completely. I glanced down at his handiwork, following his gape. My nipples rose to hard buds from sudden exposure. Exposed. I was bare to him.

  I felt my chest heave uncontrollably. My livid glare lifted and with balled lips, I struck him across the face again.

  His reaction was in a flash when I was lifted into the air like a toddler. In route, my face jerked too close to his. I could smell too much of his delicious scent. His heat was something I once knew—even if for just a brief period—causing my resistance to vanish. And I went for it. My hands clasped at the back of his head, his soft hairs brushed against my fingers and palms, and my lips collided with his. I would have easily thought I was the aggressor if his tongue didn’t hastily slip into my parted lips, sweeping with lust.