Down to My Soul (Soul Series Book 2)(6)

“You ready?” Ella runs a brush through the hair hanging around my shoulders one last time.

A tiny spark of rebellion flares inside of me. I toe off the high heels, reaching for my Converse. As soon as I’m done tying them, I look up at Ella’s smirking face, smirking in return.

“I am now.”





LUKE AND I ARE THUMB WRESTLING in the greenroom when the door leading to the studio opens. A girl wearing an Intern t-shirt ushers through a heavy-set man I don’t recognize and a woman I do. It’s Qwest, one of the hottest female rappers in the game. I don’t really listen to her music and have only seen her in a few videos, but she’s as compelling and beautiful in real life as she is onscreen. Black braids twist into a knot to crown her head. Her skin, the color of nutmeg, is absolutely flawless. I know the wonders of makeup. I rely on them every day. But there is a naturalness to her that I didn’t expect. She wears the same red matte shade on her lips as I do.

Our eyes catch and hold. She grabs the elbow of the heavy-set man, whom I presume is her body guard.

“Hold up, Ace.” She comes to stand in front of us, tilting her head to study me more closely. “Nice lipstick.”

I grin up at her from my seat, dropping Luke’s hand.

“Yours, too.”

“Erika.” She extends her hand to me. “Kai Pearson, right?”

It’s so odd for someone as famous as she is to know me. I’m not sure if it’s because of my relationship with Rhyson or because of my short stint on tour. Maybe a little of the latter. Probably mostly the former.

I stand to shake her hand, realizing how much taller she is.

“Hi, Erika. Yeah, I’m Kai.”

“You Rhyson Gray’s girl?” Her almond-shaped eyes probe mine for a second before inspecting me from head to toe.

Who knows? I wake up every morning alone in a new hotel room wondering if I’m still Rhyson Gray’s girl. Having to answer that publicly, even between just the two of us, disconcerts me.

“Um . . .”

“I mean, ex-girl.” Qwest . . . Erika . . . shrugs. “Whatever.”

“Yeah, whatever.” I offer a shrug of my own.

“I ask because I’m wondering if you know Grip.” She slides her hands into her back pockets, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “He’s dope. I wanna collab, but having trouble getting to him. No manager. No agent. Nothing.”

“Yeah, he’s kind of grass roots.”

“That’s what I love about him.” She cups her neck and tilts her head back a little, covering the rose tattoo at her throat, a purely feminine appreciation in her eyes. “And he’s fine as hell. That don’t hurt.”

I’m not sure what she wants me to say or do here. I look at Luke, but he’s no help, surfing Instagram.

“How should I get to him? He and Rhyson are best friends, right? So I figured you might know a good angle.”

The word angle makes me uncomfortable, but I think she and Grip working together could be fire. And I know just the person to make it happen.

“Bristol Gray.” I give Erika a quick smile. “Have your people contact her. She’s Rhyson’s sister, not Grip’s manager, but she’d love to make something happen, and she probably can.”

“Nice. I’ll do that.”

We both turn when the door opens and the intern comes back through.

“Mr. Foster, Ms. Pearson, they’re ready for you.

“Hey.” Luke stands and smiles at Qwest, offering a hand. “I’m a fan.”

Erika’s eyes flick from his hand to his All-American face.

“Aiight. Thanks.” She gives his hand a quick shake. “Nice to meet you.”

Luke nods and goes on ahead. I’m turning to follow when Erika stops me with her words.

“You know they’re gonna try to eat you alive, right?” she asks, dark brows up. “I mean about Rhyson Gray and all that. That No Holds Barred segment is a trip.”

I glance at the intern holding the door open, who shifts from one booted foot to the other, waiting for me.

“They won’t get anything I don’t want to give,” I assure her, setting my mouth in a hard line.

“I can see that.” Erica grins. “And if they come at you, tell ‘em pucker up and kiss on these.”

She reaches back to grab the two globes of her ample ass. It takes a second for what she’s saying to compute, but once it does, I love it. And I think I love her. She’s based in New York and I’m in LA, but I think I could be friends with someone this genuine in a landscape of phonies.

I grab my round, if not-as-ample ass, and grin up at her.

“Got it.”

“Ms. Pearson, we need to go,” the intern says. “They’re ready for you.”

Erika and I exchange one last look, one last smile before I follow the intern into the studio.

Five minutes later, Luke and I sit around a huge table with Randy May, Morning Hype’s host, and his two co-hosts. I adjust the headphones piping in the intro package music as Randy comes back from the last commercial.

“One of today’s hottest performers is in the building,” Randy says into the mic. “We’ve got Luke Foster in studio this morning. Reminder we are streaming, and you’re gonna wanna tune in online because he brought his beautiful tourmate Kai Pearson with him. Let’s give them both a Morning Hype welcome.”