Since I’d met him earlier this year, we had become friends. We’d found out that weekend that we shared the same love for Indiana Jones, so we had watched all the movies in his penthouse while the other band members stared at us like we were an alien species they didn’t understand.
When I left Chicago, I had thought I’d never hear from him again. But that night, he had called me, and our friendship had grown over the months. Now, when things happened that made me happy or upset me, I immediately thought of Kiro. He was the one I wanted to tell.
“Shame you’re sitting home on a Saturday. The guys in South Carolina are idiots,” he said, breaking me out of my thoughts.
I hadn’t told him about Will yet. He didn’t talk about his one-night stands, and I didn’t think he’d care about my dating life. But we were friends, and although I did fantasize about him at night, I also knew it was just that: a fantasy. Kiro made it clear he wanted nothing to do with an inexperienced virgin in the bedroom.
“I went on a date tonight. His name is Will. It was our fourth, actually.” I tried to sound casual, like this was no big thing. Talking about a guy with him.
He didn’t say anything at first, and I gripped the phone tightly, hoping I hadn’t done the wrong thing. I didn’t want these phone calls to end. Sadly, they had become the highlight of my week.
“Fourth, huh? Guess there’s a guy with eyes and a brain down there,” he said with a chuckle, but his voice seemed tight. “He got a last name?”
“Burton,” I replied.
Kiro was silent again, and then he cleared his throat. “How’s that bitch at work? She still giving you shit?” he asked.
I relaxed. This was what we normally talked about. The day-to-day easy stuff. “She got fired,” I said, still reeling over how that had happened. “Will heard her reaming me out about something that wasn’t my fault. She had threatened to have me fired. Then he walked in and told her she needed to pack her desk up and go home.”
“Will? As in the guy you’re dating?”
I had forgotten to mention that Will was my boss. I worked at a lumberyard, taking orders and dealing with contractor accounts. Will’s dad owned the company. “Yeah, he’s the manager,” I explained.
Kiro didn’t comment, so I decided it was time to shift the conversation away from me. This was awkward. “I bet you’re looking forward to going home. Last stop is tomorrow, right?” I had a poster of the band with the tour dates on it hanging in my bedroom. I liked to be able to see where he was each day.
“Last stop was tonight. I’m in London. Five hours ahead of you. It’s two in the morning here.”
He never called on nights they performed. He usually partied afterward. “What? No party in London?” I asked.
“Yeah. They’re partying. I wasn’t in the mood. Came back to the hotel.”
That didn’t sound like Kiro. His whole tone seemed off. “Are you OK? You don’t sound like your usual self.”
He let out a sigh. “Yeah, I’m good, angel. Just tired. Long-ass tour.”
And it was two in the morning. “You want to get some sleep?”
“I’d rather hear you talk.”
When he said things like that, my whole body shivered. I loved his deep voice, and any little comment could make me anxious for my bed and my thoughts of him. Because I hated to think of Kiro being sad, I did the best I could to make him smile. I told him every small detail of my day that I thought would amuse him and gave him a recap of the best Saturday Night Live episodes he had missed while on tour. With each laugh I got out of him, my insides felt all tingly.
Kiro
I knocked on the door, trying hard not to be pissed that this piece of shit apartment complex with no fucking security was Emily’s home. This wasn’t where I’d been picturing her. And I pictured her a fucking lot.
Waiting with my hands tucked in the pockets of my jeans, I was trying to remain calm. But fuck it all, I had been waiting to see her face for months. Every time I heard her voice, my entire body went on high alert. I couldn’t rein in its attraction to Emily.
I heard a chain sliding out of the lock as the door swung open, revealing her in a pair of tiny shorts and a camisole. Her hair was tangled, and her gorgeous eyes were wide.
“Kiro,” she said, unable to hide the grin that lit up her face. It was midnight. I had changed my flight from London to come here instead of Los Angeles. I didn’t fucking miss my house. I only missed one thing while on tour, and it was this face. Fuck me.
“I wake you up, angel?” I asked, stepping into her apartment with my hands still firmly stuck in the pockets of my jeans. I didn’t trust them around Emily. They wanted to touch her.
It was then I realized she had just crawled out of bed. Her hands went to her hair as she ran her fingers through the strands, trying to tame them. But I liked it just the way it was.
“I . . . you’re here. At my apartment.” She sounded flustered. Then her nose scrunched up, and she frowned. “Oh, wait. I’m asleep. This is a dream.” Her face fell.
Fuck it! I took my hands out of my pockets and wrapped her in my arms. She inhaled deeply as I held her to my chest. “I’m very real, and you’re awake,” I told her, unable to keep the thickness out of my throat. She got to me. She was fucking with my head. Seriously fucking with it.
“You feel real.” Her arms came around my waist.