Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
Kannon
I had probably protected people thousands of times.
I’d pulled people off them in crowds. I’d shielded them from cameras and stupid, prying questions.
I’d ushered them through hotel kitchens when the crowds outside got too wild.
I’d slept outside of hotel rooms just to make sure a crazed fan didn’t somehow get inside.
I was built to protect, probably even born for it.
It was the number one thing I was good at.
Now I was questioning everything as I sat at my kitchen counter watching the one and only Carteay Hoyt prance around in one of my shirts making breakfast and singing about wanting to feel something.
Knowing she was naked under there did something to me.
The faint redness on her wrist from where I’d tied her up had me singing the pledge of allegiance in my head to keep my dick at bay.
It was a good thing that I had put on boxers and sweats after Carteay reminded me that I had a guest.
I wanted her again. It felt wrong to still crave her after waking her up in the middle of the night for round two, but I’d be damned if I didn’t want her even more right now.
My hands still itched to touch her soft skin.
My ears missed the way she whispered my name over and over when she came for me.
It felt wrong to crave her so bad. I shook my head as if that would reset my thoughts and push out any ideas about seeing where last night could lead us. It was crazy to think like that.
We could never be more than friends, and I was fine with that until I wasn’t. I kind of wanted to pursue this, whatever it was. It felt too good not to be right. She felt too good not to be mine. Still, I knew I couldn’t be with Carteay. Hell, she was a celebrity. I hated the spotlight.
Carteay was a star and rightfully so. Not that I was starstruck or anything.
My line of business came with dealing with celebrities.
Besides, Carrie wasn’t even like that. She was big, like super famous, but she was so down to earth that you wouldn’t know when you met her unless you already knew it.
There she was, as illuminating as ever, wearing my shirt and singing off-key while she whisked eggs and chopped vegetables.
I had an unspoken rule to never be the thing someone needed protection from.
I’d failed her. Still, as she looked over her shoulder and smiled at me, I didn’t give a fuck about right and wrong.
I just wanted more of whatever this was.
Last night replayed in my head on a constant loop. I didn’t know which part to hone in on. Everything was so perfect. Her hands on my chest, the sound she made every time I hit that one spot, the way she sang my name like it was the highest praise—I wanted it all.
It was torturous to be this close and still so far away. I wanted more, but it was something I knew I couldn’t have. I told myself to give her space. It was only right. I needed to give us room to say what we had done was a mistake. I needed to let her walk it back.
“Breakfast is served, my lord,” she teased as she placed a huge omelet with meat and veggies spilling out of it in front of me.
“Since when do you cook?” I asked, grabbing the hot sauce off the counter and adding a few dashes. It just gave things the right kick sometimes. Picking up the fork, I dug in without hesitation as I looked up at Carteay for a response.
“Who said I didn’t cook?”
“No one. I’m just used to you constantly saying you were waiting on takeout when I asked what you were eating.”
“I never have time to cook. Somebody is always in my face wanting something. Plus, it’s easier to order out.”
“You ain’t lying. I might get on the grill now and then, but other than that, I usually grab something quick.”
“Well, this time you don’t have to.”
“And it’s good. Thank you,” I said, looking up at her from my plate.
“You’re welcome and thank you for last night.”
“Which part?” I teased.
She rolled her eyes playfully. “Shut up. Seriously, though, thank you for all of it,” she said, flashing a coy grin before dropping her eyes to her food. “It’s comforting to just be here with you. I know that you don’t have any expectations or want to see what you can get out of me.”
It felt like she wanted to say something else, so I didn’t respond to her statement.
I wanted to leave room for her to speak her mind now that she was sober.
Some of the things she mentioned last night weren’t sitting right with me.
I just needed to figure out how to broach the subject.
Plus, I wanted her to know she was safe here, even if my dick was screaming otherwise.
“I aim to please, mama.”
I watched her body jerk as she laughed silently. “That you do.”
“What’s the plan for today?”
“I don’t know. I’m not ready to face the world yet. I kinda wish I could hide out here forever. I know that I can’t though. I didn’t even grab my phone before we left. They’ve probably filed a missing person report by now. Their cash cow is off the radar for the first time.”
“I’m sure they’re just worried about you,” I said, not really meaning what I said but wanting her to elaborate. She took the bait.
“Hmph, worried is not something I would ever associate with those people. My mom might be concerned if anyone from the label has the sense to contact her, but otherwise, they are just worried about the money they could be missing if I don’t show up by Monday to be on The Daily Word with Cassidy Lee. ”
“I hate that show,” I mumbled.
I only knew of it because a couple of my frequent flyers liked to watch her gossiping ass in the mornings. I was always gracious enough to make breakfast before sending them on their way. This time, Carteay beat me to the punch.
“I hate doing anything that requires me to be fake. That’s pretty much my whole life once I walk out the front doors of my house.”
“That’s crazy. I don’t know if I could do it,” I confessed.
“It looks like all glitz and glamour from the outside, but between the upside-down contracts, image consultants, and handlers, you start to forget what’s real and what’s fake.”
“So, why do you do it? Is it for the money or the love of the craft?”
“I’ve always loved to sing. When I won that showcase and got the record deal, I felt like all of my prayers had been answered.
For the first few months, I couldn’t tell the difference.
The longer I worked with the label and all the people they had managing my every move, the more I felt like I was losing myself. ”
“How’s that?”
“Hell, I can barely make any decisions without having them approved by the label. Even my relationship is some bullshit set up by them. Granted, they let Cyrus come in and woo me all on his own. Somebody must have coached him on acting like he had some sense, because he pulled that off for a whole month. I mean I really thought we were in love. He was so attentive and charming that I should have known I was being love bombed. Silly me, I thought the shit was real. Once we went public and started getting so much media attention, he started to show his true colors. The more I pulled away from him, the more he and the label pushed for us to be together. Eventually, they told me that leaving him wasn’t an option because us together was good press.
Nobody wanted to support a girl who couldn’t keep a man.
Cy the God is the biggest rapper in the game right now; dealing with him gives you street cred.
Like I need fucking street cred. I grew up in the projects.
Street cred is not something I ever desired to have. ” She rolled her eyes.
“So, what was that about last night?”
“He gets high and wants to prove how much of a man he is by making me have sex with him. I wasn’t feeling that shit last night, and when I told him that, he refused to take no for an answer.”
“He’s done that shit before?” I quizzed.
She huffed through her nose and rolled her eyes at my question. “Let’s just eat before my world class omelets get cold.”
“That’s not cool, Carteay. Even if you two are in a relationship, you have the right to tell him no.”
She scoffed. “One would think.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off her as I processed what she’d just told me. The sadness in her eyes made my trigger finger itch. By the time she looked back up at me, there were no traces of the sorrow I’d just seen.
“What was that you did last night?”
I smirked. “Which part? The one that made your eyes roll back in your head?”
She shook her head. “Not that, silly. Whatever you did when you flipped Cy’s little ass like a rag doll.”
I chuckled before answering. Her smile never wavered as she waited. “I don’t know. Probably a mixture of Taekwondo and some street shit. I can’t remember what happened.”
“I can’t picture your big ass doing no Taekwondo.”
“I’m pretty sure you witnessed my big ass doing Taekwondo last night.”
“Where do you even learn some shit like that?” she asked.
“My mom put me and my brothers in classes when we were growing up. As an adult, I kept an interest in both Taekwondo and Tai Chi.”
“OK. I know what Tai Chi is. It’s almost like yoga.”
“Yeah, I guess you can say that,” I acknowledged, nodding as I finished my omelet.
“Teach me.”
“You planning on beating your boyfriend up?”
“I just want to learn. Besides, I’m done with his ass. I don’t care what I have to do or give up. I’m done.”
“You have the right to make that decision.”
“Actually, I don’t. There’s some kind of clause in my contract about my image and the label being able to make decisions that will benefit my career. According to Ceasar, that includes who I date. My life isn’t my life anymore.”
“That’s bullshit. So that shit is real?”
“Yes! Most people won’t talk about it, but I know firsthand. I’ve tried to leave Cy before, and they threatened to sue me for breach of contract.”
“What the fuck, Carteay?”