Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
S hinji
“Did Lakeshia just kick us out of our house?” Takeshi stares at the closed door with a dumbfounded expression on his face.
I chuckle, knowing he isn’t accustomed to being treated this way. “Poor Keishi-kun. Having a hard time figuring out how to reestablish your place as top dog?”
He cuts a glance at me before studying the door again.
“You have a key.”
“Shinji…”
“You’re right. Barging inside and demanding she let us touch and taste her although we won’t ease the desires we intentionally inflame will probably get you a matching scar on your other shoulder.”
Takeshi straightens and turns to me. Although he hides it well, concern darkens his eyes. “Are we being too pushy?”
“Obviously, or she wouldn’t have told us to keep our lips to ourselves and find something else to do.”
“But she’s not ready for anything more intense.”
I spin toward the garage. “I agree.”
“And I don’t think I can?—”
“Watch her pass by without touching her?” I reach the side door and turn, pressing my back against the warm metal.
I share my husband’s frustration, however I’m able to manage mine better. Surprising considering Takeshi is the master of his emotions. Although he agrees Lakeshia is ours, could he have other reservations he isn’t sharing?
Takeshi stares at his hands, turning them around and closing them into fists before opening them again. A frown of deep concentration exposes a vulnerability hidden by his usual fierceness.
“I-I think I’m out of my depth.”
“Well, shit.” Blown away by his response, my mind races.
From his thin lips and bristling mustache, he won’t fess up easily.
I text a friend and wait for his response. I don’t have long to wait before I tell Takeshi, “Follow me. I’m going to take you somewhere. And no, I’m not telling you where until we get there, so deal with not knowing.”
My husband glares at me. “You don’t play fair.”
“I never have when it comes to you, and you love me for it.” I open the door and back into the garage.
Unable to argue, he shakes his head and heads toward the driver's side of his favorite F-150 SVT Raptor.
“Not today, Keishi-kun.” I jingle the keys to my favorite ride, my bespoke MSO.
He snatches the keys out of my hands. “Not knowing our destination doesn’t stop me from driving. Consider yourself my personal GPS and direct me to where you want me.”
I scrutinize him, wondering how hard I should push. After admitting he’s out of his depth, driving must be his way to regain his equilibrium. I concede, sliding my fingers across the hood of my McLaren, before heading toward the passenger side of the car.
He presses the garage door opener and starts the car. “Do I have to remind you to behave and keep your hands PG?”
I roll my eyes but settle into my seat. “Don’t worry. I’m not so reckless as to cause a crash. And if you recall, on the occasion you’re alluding to, you expertly navigated around the traffic while I had your dick in my mouth.”
“You didn’t see all the near misses because my dick was in your mouth.” He grunts before pulling out.
Win some, lose some.
I direct him to the center of Serenidad’s art district. The closer we approach our destination, the more tension he releases from his shoulders and his thinned lips return to their delicious plushness.
“Seriously?” He arches his brow as he glances at the destination ahead, then at me.
“I thought you needed a reminder.”
Takeshi pulls into the parking lot across from our destination. Colorful murals depicting the historic Californio culture to the modern day mixture of Asian, Black, Hispanic, and European found in modern-day Serenidad guide us toward the studio. He slings his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side. Residual tension lives within his muscles, but nothing like how he was when we set off.
I lace our fingers together on the hand dangling from my right shoulder.
“To make things crystal clear for me, what are you reminding me about?”
“All will become clear if you immerse yourself in the experience.” I squeeze his hand as we move forward.
The friend I texted earlier greets us when we enter the building. “I don’t know what lucky star you were born under, but I need you to rub off some of your good fortune on me.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t have gotten my room on short notice. Keep your mediocre luck and leave me and my superior karma alone.”
After some back and forth shit talking, he leads me and Takeshi to the studio that will always hold a special place in our relationship. I set up the track and show Takeshi what to do in the control room before entering the booth.
Once I sit at the piano, put on my headphones, and test the microphone, I ask, “Do you remember how we first met?”
He rests his elbows on the edge of the mixing station and cups his chin. “As if I could forget. Your impetuousness nearly got you killed that day.”
“I regret nothing.” I wink and send him a salacious grin.
“Do you ever?”
I shrug away the response because there is one thing I haven’t been able to erase from my past. I’ve learned to not dwell on it, and it’s not something Takeshi or I can change. “Not when it comes to you.”
“So you brought me here to remind me of our third date?”
“Yes and no. Do you remember what you confessed to me the night before I brought you here?”
Takeshi quiets for a moment and I almost see him flipping through the images of our most memorable moments together.
“Something along the lines of you confound me to an unhealthy degree.” He twists his lips, arching his mustache.
“And?”
“And it would be best not to pursue anything deeper.”
“So I begged you to give me one last date before you cut me out of your life.”
“How many times do I have to explain I only said those things because I believed you deserved someone better?”
“Your reasoning was a pile of bullshit then and it’s a pile of bullshit now.”
“I still don’t know why you were determined to have me, but I’ve accepted your choice. Not like you gave me much of one.”
I often forget Takeshi’s control and self-confident air is a mask to hide the scars of his past. How else can someone so perfect in every other way not see himself the way I do?
“Well, you kept talking about how if I chose to be with you, I would wake up one day not recognizing who I am. That I would change into a shell of myself.” I motion from my head to my waist. “I could never.”
“How many times do you need me to admit when I’m wrong?” His mouth quirks, and I have to fight myself from leaving the booth and kissing the self-deprecation off his face.
“Only when you go down that path again. You don’t have to force anyone to accept you. Lakeshia will because no one in their right mind would risk losing you. Keep the overcompensating under control, at least until she’s enamored with your other qualities, and she’ll be in my position, irrevocably in love with you.”
Takeshi removes his elbows from the panel to fold his arms. “And so you brought me here to remind me with the song you wrote eight years ago?”
“No, I have a new song.”
Before I met Takeshi, I’d gone through a transition where I reinvented myself as a jazz lounge singer. Writing music is an outlet for my emotions when the words won’t come out right. It’s saved my life too many times to count, and performing for Takeshi was one of those lifesaving moments.
“When did you write this one?”
“The night you agreed Lakeshia was ours.” I caress the keys, reliving the joy, hope, and desperation of that moment.
“God, you know how to push my buttons.” Takeshi pushes back into his chair to slightly rock himself. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I do a few vocal exercises to warm my voice before giving him a nod to flip the switch.
Music filters through my headphones, and everything falls away except the music and my husband. I play the song and sing about a man whose heart is big and gentle, who’s at war with himself because his head says one thing while his heart wants another. I pour my hopes of him getting what he needs while it stares him in the face before happiness slips through his fingers and leaves him living with regret. The outro ends on a hopeful note.
As the last notes echo in my mind, I tear away from the emotion swimming in my husband’s eyes.
“What do you think?” I stare at the black and white keys.
“I’ll always be weak for you when you serenade me.”
“Keishi, I’m serious.”
He drops his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t know if I can step out of my way and let things happen. What if she decides I’m the deal breaker in pursuing a deeper relationship?”
“She won’t if we play our cards right.”
Takeshi pushes away from his chair to pace, his stride more measured the deeper his introspection. “Shouldn’t she have shown signs she’s opening up to us by now?”
I leave the booth to sit on the couch. “What makes you think she hasn’t?”
“It’s like she’s more guarded than…”
“You?” I finish his question.
“She never calls,” he grits with a frown, offering an alternate theory and disregarding the trait he shares with Lakeshia.
“What?”
“If she’s thinking about us… me, why doesn’t she call? She has my number in her phone. I’ve told her I want to hear her voice, but… She hasn’t reached out.”
“And this is why you’re spiraling?”
“I’m not spiraling. You know what hearing your voice whenever we’re apart does for me. Why can’t she give me this? Do you think I like going through the day obsessing over if the next time I hear her voice it will be because she’s hurt or in danger?”
I rush into the control room. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t fixate on the people you care about. But we don’t have to hit her with the full Takeshi when she isn’t as invested as we are yet. But I swear we can get her there.”
“Yeah? How?” He swings around and pierces me with his turbulent brown eyes.
“We show her a future she can’t refuse. One she can’t run from because when she does her calculations, we are the only solution that will fulfill all her dreams. I know you can do it because you surpass my expectations every day.”
Takeshi pulls me into his arms and rests his forehead against mine. He draws comfort from our embrace, and I happily give him the support he needs until he can stand on his own.
My husband tends to exhaust his emotional battery when he keeps a tight rein on everything. When I exchanged vows with him, I accepted my role in being his place to recharge and be himself. One day, I know Lakeshia will jump to do the same because a man who feels as deeply as our Keishi deserves that and more.
“Okay,” Takeshi exhales. “I’ll wait for her to call me.”
I nod, but doubt remains in his eyes. Today’s session will probably buy Lakeshia a week before Takeshi will need a refresher. When in doubt, I have one method to clear his mind.
“Keishi-kun…”
“Hmm?”
“We have the room for another hour.”
“And?”
“It’s been a while since we reenacted that Pretty Woman scene.” I grab his hand and walk backward, dragging him to the recording room.
Takeshi shakes his head, but quickly unbuttons his shirt. “I think I remember the one song you taught me to play on the piano.”
“If not, improvise.” I lick my lips. “ I know I will.”