Down to My Soul (Soul Series Book 2)(54)

“You really should go get some rest.” He offers a warmed over smile. “It’s been a long three months, and we have a lot more ahead of us. You go on your way. Don’t worry about letting Dub know it was all a misunderstanding.”

His eyes land on me like a fist.

“I’ll handle that. I’ll handle everything.”

A hand on my shoulder distracts me from the icy stare down I’m having with Malcolm.

“Hey, drink this.” Ella offers me a cup of the magic tea that has kept my voice on life support the last few weeks. She flicks a glance between Malcolm’s stony expression and mine. “Everything okay?”

“Yep. I’m off to go find Dub.” Malcolm smiles for Ella’s benefit, I assume. “You’ve done an amazing job on the tour, Kai. Kill it one last time for me tonight.”

He walks off, leaving me with Ella’s questioning eyes.

“You sure it’s all good?” Ella glances over her shoulder, watching Malcolm’s bulky figure all the way backstage. “Malcolm seemed even creepier than usual.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” I sip the hot tea, swallowing my pride. “This is perfect. Thank you for this and a million other things you’ve done for me on the tour that have nothing to do with makeup.”

“Hey, you’re a sweet kid.” Ella shrugs one slim shoulder. “And you’re the real deal. Your tour will be twice as big as Luke’s next year. Maybe I’m just getting in on the ground floor of something great.”

“Yeah, you’re such an opportunist.” I roll my eyes because she’s the genuine article. Few and far enough between in this business. “You’ve taken care of me, especially the last few weeks when I’ve been under the weather. I’ll never forget that.”

“And you need to get to the bottom of whatever you’re under.” Ella gives me a stern look. “The lingering cough. The aches.”

She presses the back of her hand to my forehead.

“You have a fever. I think we should call a doctor.”

“After the show.” I start walking toward the exit and the promise of a nap in my dressing room.

“Mistletoe was just delivered.” Ella’s grin is secretive. “Right on time.”

I nod, an irrepressible grin all over my face, despite the achiness of my body. Despite the residual slime of my conversation with Malcolm. Last show. Rhyson didn’t miss one stop. I’m sleeping in his bed tonight. I don’t care what time we wrap. I don’t care if he’s in the studio and comes home to find me curled up on his front step. It’s happening. Even no closer to figuring out who is behind the sex tape, even knowing Rhyson wants to go public soon, even with the crap revelation Malcolm just dumped on me. All of that makes my life vastly complicated. I’ll figure it out. Maybe San made some headway. Maybe Drex will turn up. Maybe I’ll find a way to wiggle out of the contractual headlock Malcolm has me in, but tonight I get Rhyson. Right now I can’t see beyond that.

“You think he’ll come to the show tonight to see you perform?” Ella keeps pace with me, digging a lemon ginger lozenge out of her pocket and pressing it into my hand.

“Who?” I laugh at her “come on now” expression. Rhyson is an unspoken understanding between Ella and me. She’s the only one on tour who knows we’re together, even though I haven’t actually told her so. Besides Dub, of course. “If he comes, he knows not to tell me. I’d rather not know he’s out there.”

“He’d make you nervous?”

“Uh, yeah.” I shake my head, deriding myself. “I know it’s silly, but it is what it is.”

“I’ve really tried to play this cool and not be a total fangirl,” Ella says, obviously working up to something.

“I hear a ‘but’ in there.” I open my dressing room door and gesture for her to follow me in. “Go on. What is it?”

“He’s just so . . . amazing. I mean, obviously, he’s hot. Not that I noticed your boyfriend is hot or anything. And he’s so talented and mysterious. I just . . . how do you stand it?”

I knew Ella loved Rhyson’s music, but this is her first full on gush, and it’s something to behold.

“He is amazing.” I stretch out on the couch, grateful to finally surrender to the respite my body has been begging for. “But he’s also just a guy. I mean, he’s my guy.”

I can’t help but laugh thinking of our day at the beach. Him in his thick moustache singing “I Got You, Babe” by the beach.

“He’s a goofball. He’s a genius. He makes me laugh.”

My lips quirk to a wry angle, memories of our infamous video imprinting my mind.

“He makes me cry sometimes, too.” I shrug. “He’s not perfect, but then neither am I.”

“And all the drama between you two at the beginning of the tour?” Ella settles into the seat in front of the mirror, pulling spikes into her short hair. “All resolved?”

“I don’t know if ‘resolved’ is the right word,” I mumble, barely able to keep my eyes open as exhaustion takes me under. “But we’re working on it. I have no choice.”

“Why’s that?” Ella swivels the seat around to stare at me.