Grip Trilogy Box Set

“And let’s not forget that asssss!” Grip laughs.

Seriously. The girl’s ass has its own hashtag. I’m pretty sure it’s insured. Rhyson and Gep join in the laughter, but Kai refuses.

“Does it always come down to that?” Kai sounds only slightly outraged. She has room to talk since she has “assets” in that area herself.

“No,” Grip answers. “I like legs and breasts, too.”

“Both of which Qwest had the last time I checked,” Rhyson says. “Oh, you checked, did you?” Kai asks.

“Not like that,” Rhyson rushes to say. “I mean, not at all like that.

It’s just her—”

“Dude, just stop,” Grip laughs. “That’s a no-win grave you’re digging for yourself. I may not be married, but even I know that.”

“Rhyson, to misquote Mean Girls,” Kai says. “Stop trying to make Qwest happen.”

My brother and Kai are film geeks and could talk in nothing but movie quotes for days. How I ever thought they weren’t perfect for each other, I’ll never know.

“Maybe it isn’t Qwest.” Some of the laughter fades from Rhyson’s words. “I’m just saying I know how important family is to you. I don’t want you wasting any more time than you have to pining for my sister when she hasn’t budged all these years. How long are you gonna wait?”

I glance through the crack again and see Rhyson holding Kai even tighter, his chin on her shoulder and her temple leaned against his head. With Rhyson’s hand splayed across her baby bump, they’re the picture of marital bliss. Happiness personified. Grip’s eyes reflect the same emotions roiling inside me. Maybe a little envy. Maybe a little doubt. He’s probably asking himself the questions Rhyson asked of him.

What is he waiting for? Me? To change my mind? I won’t. It shouldn’t be me. He needs to see that, and I know what I need to do to make sure he does.

Chapter 7

GRIP

THE LIGHT KNOCK on the dressing room door interrupts my conversation with Rhys and Kai. And Gep, if I count his non-verbals as conversation, which I pretty much have to since he barely speaks.

“Come in.” I expect a stagehand to tell me it’s almost time, but it’s Bristol.

God, she’s beautiful.

I’d like to kick everyone out, lock the door with us on this side, and fuck her against the wall. She could keep those heels on, too. I can imagine them digging into my butt while I tear that ass up.

I’m not a gentleman.

I feel like I’m channeling Uncle Jamal for a moment. Maybe Rhyson’s right. Maybe she needs a guy wearing a suit accessorized with a stick up his ass. Tonight, she looks like the definition of class.

Those heels are the color of tangerines and match the cropped top showing off the golden skin of her stomach. The long sleeves cling to her arms, and the narrow white skirt hugs her hips, ass, and the infinity of her legs. The coppery streaks stand out in the dark hair parted down the middle and pulled back at her neck.

“Hey.” She hands me a steaming mug of lemon-scented some- thing or other. “For your voice.”

It takes no effort to hold her eyes with mine when I accept the drink. I will her to remember our bodies pressed together on the roof under a full moon. She’s wearing blush, so I can’t tell if she’s flushing or not under my stare, but she gives nothing else away so I can’t know for sure.

“How’s my niece today?’

She rubs Kai’s little belly.

“She’s good, Auntie Bristol,” Kai says affectionately.

“What’s up, brother?” Bristol musses Rhyson’s hair with her knuckles.

“Nothing much. Just supporting our artist.” Rhyson swats her hand away and grins at her. “Excellent job tonight, as usual.”

“Thanks.” Bristol checks the items on my dressing room table. She’s anal about our riders, and I know she’s making sure everything we requested is there.