GIO (Interracial Rockstar Romance)

That’s why you kept her off in Brooklyn so far away? It wasn’t because it would be the best thing for her solo career. It was because you didn’t want to share her with anybody else.

Too bad. Now you’ll have to give her up completely.

I was happy when dessert ended. Chucky and his family said their goodbyes.

Earlier, dinner had been odd. I couldn’t keep my hands off Simone. Anytime I could sneak a touch, I did—pushing her chair to the table, holding her hand during dinner, and now helping her up from the chair with the pretense of taking her to my studio.

“Yes.” Ru clapped his hands. “I would like to see your studio too.”

“No.” I held Simone’s hand. “I’ll show you tomorrow. This is my sacred space. I want to show her first. It’s a creative thing.”

Ru smirked. “A creative thing, huh?”

Simone let go of my hand, walked up to Ru, and gave him a half hug. “Thanks for coming today. I know you’re busy. You should get some rest anyway.”

I didn’t like the exchange although it appeared brotherly-sisterly. He’d been watching over her for five years. I was sure she saw him as nothing more than a manager/big brother in the industry. Meanwhile, it was clear as she hugged him that he wanted her bad. He held his breath and closed his eyes.

When she backed away, he opened them.

Yeah. He must go, and she needs a new manager.

“You’ve been traveling all day. Get some rest,” she said. “We can catch up tomorrow.”

Ru looked down at her. “Maybe we should catch up tonight. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” She returned to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I grabbed that hand again, not enjoying being too far from her.

She had her back to Ru as he glared at me with so much fucking hate I almost knocked the shit out of him.

Instead, I smiled, “You have a good night, Ru.”

I could’ve sworn Ru cursed behind us, but I didn’t care. While he was supposed to be her manager and look after her, he was taking it a bit far. There was no doubt that he was attracted to Simone. His gaze stuck to her the whole night. I could see him undressing her with his eyes.

And how could I blame him with all those beautiful curves barely hidden under that dress? But he’d fucked up by sending her music to me. How could he think that I would not fall in love with that voice and talent? He must’ve really believed me to be that shallow—that unfit as a man—to only be interested in pussy and tits.

That was your mistake, Ru. You did a bad job of hiding her.

Chapter 13

Simone

They teach you

there's a boundary line to music.

But, man,

there's no boundary line to art.

~Charlie Parker

Gio’s studio was in a building away from his massive house. He sent one of his staff members to get my coat. I quickly put it on and followed him outside, my heart pounding the whole time.

The moon lay in a dark, snowy sky. Flakes had not stopped falling since I’d woken up. Still, there was a freshly shoveled path to his studio as if Gio had ordered someone to do it, in anticipation of us coming out there tonight.

He firmly held my hand as we made it to his studio in no time. The wind bit at my skin as my teeth rattled, flakes landing on my hair and shoulders. My poor blow out would be a wet, curly mess by the time we got to the studio, but I was too excited to see it and didn’t care.

Once we arrived, he used a key to open the door, flipped on the switch, and guided me in. “Are you cold?” he asked, stomping his boots and shaking the snow from them on the front door mat.

“No. I’m fine.” I took his lead, doing the same, not wanting to track snow into his studio.

I followed him in before pulling off my boots and placing them by the door. He did the same, keeping his back to me as he did so. I couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders. I thought he'd be a big guy from all the times I’d seen him on tv, but he was even bigger than I imagined.

He turned his head a little, glancing over his shoulder at me. That black hair fell over the other side of his face and blocked my view a little. One deep blue eye met mine, and I yearned to see more of him, even though I’d been watching him all through dinner.

The studio came alive before me, filled with everything that any millionaire musician would want. It made my pitiful little living room studio look like a crack den.

And the flowers. They were all over the place. There must’ve been over a hundred types decorating every free space. Roses danced around lilies. Irises wound near sunflowers. Daffodils stood next to marigolds. Tulips tickled daisies. It was a garden inside a studio.