So I deflect by saying something that truly surprises me. “She’s not my mom but my stepmom.”
Kynan blinks at me in surprise and my face flushes with awful guilt for reducing her down. I hold my hands out. “I didn’t mean that in the bad way it sounded. Of course, she’s my mom through and through. Raised me since I was six and I love her dearly.”
My words trail off and Kynan just watches me. I feel like a bug under a microscope with a hot glaring light just overhead to illuminate the worst of my flaws.
“I’m not sure why I felt the need to distinguish her that way,” I murmur as my gaze falls to the board. “It makes me sound like an ungrateful brat.”
“It makes it sound like there are times in your life that you need to categorize her,” he replies and my head pops up in surprise. “She wears different hats. She’s a mother and your business manager. They are two different things and I bet they often conflict.”
I nod stupidly, because yes... THAT exactly.
“And I expect,” Kynan continues on, “that when she might be failing a bit on the mom side, and perhaps becoming a little overbearing on the manager side—say for example hiring a security firm that you don’t believe is necessary—you need to have her be just a stepmom so you can express your anger and frustration a bit.”
Again... more nodding with my mouth hanging open.
Kynan smiles at me. “I didn’t take what you said to be ungrateful or bratty in any way. I think your relationship with your mom is complex but I’ve seen the way you look at her and talk to her. I know you love her. You have nothing to prove to me.”
Is this guy a security professional or a psychologist, because I think he just boiled down all my frustrations into something that actually sounds acceptable to my conscience?
With a sigh, I sit back on the couch. “I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point, she wasn’t satisfied with just managing the business side of my career. Now she wants to control all of me.”
“How so?” Kynan asks as he puts his elbows to his knees and clasps his hands together. The game has been forgotten and now we’re just conversing.
“She tells me what to eat, what to drink, where to go, where I can’t go, how much to exercise, what clothes to wear, and who I can have for friends. I can’t go out and have fun because it’s too dangerous or I could fall in with the wrong people, and frankly... part of the reason she hired your company was to just add a babysitter on me. She doesn’t even want me to have any say-so on the type of jobs I take on. It’s like my opinion just doesn’t matter.”
“You’re an adult,” Kynan says and the deep timbre of his voice gives me a slight shiver. Acknowledging he doesn’t see me as still a teenager, which technically I am. “Why do you let her control you that way?”
“Because she’s done so much for me that was good, both for my career and as a mom. She took care of my father when he died a slow cancerous death.”
Kynan winces. “I’m sorry. When was that?”
Smiling through the sadness, I murmur. “Almost two years ago. And like I said... when my album didn’t do as well as we’d hoped, she landed me this amazing deal here in Vegas. A stepping stone is what she calls it, to bigger and better things.”
“Is that what you want? Bigger and better?”
My shrug is slow and without indifference, more of an indication that sometimes I’m not sure I know what I really want. Except for one thing. “I just want to sing. That’s all.”
Kynan smiles at me and my heart skips a beat. “It’s a good priority, Joslyn.”
Hearing him say my name makes my skin prickle, or maybe it’s the way he’s staring at me so intently from across the table. He makes me feel completely stripped and bare, causing me to self-consciously wrap my arms around my stomach.
Not because he makes me feel afraid or threatened, but because he induces what feels like a million fluttering butterflies in my stomach.
Chapter 5
Kynan
I have no business being here. I went off duty over three hours ago and Jayce has watch over Joslyn tonight. But apparently spending eight hours with her today wasn’t enough for me, so I stayed on, using the excuse that I wanted to check out the venue where she performs and assess how our security protocol is working during a live show.
Bunch of bullshit but Jayce didn’t question it.
Wouldn’t have mattered if he had.
Frankly, I can’t stand the guy, although I could never quite put my finger on why before tonight. Call it a vibe or a gut instinct, but from the moment Jerico introduced us, I sensed he was bad news. I didn’t say anything to Jerico, though, because it wasn’t my place. Plus, Jerico felt obligated to Jayce because he saved his life once.
I grudgingly admit that might count for something.
At any rate, tonight I figured out why I don’t like him and it’s because I’ve caught him several times openly leering at Joslyn. Never when she’s looking though. He puts on the front of a dedicated security professional. When he stands near her, he’s alert and watching his surroundings.
But every once in a while, when her attention is elsewhere, his eyes will drop to her arse or her breasts, and I want to rip his head off. I spent all day with her today—playing Scrabble, taking her to the grocery store for Chia seeds which I don’t even want to know what that shit is—and otherwise engaged in conversation so perfect that my eight-hour shift was seemingly over in a nanosecond. After just a day with her, I’m feeling all kinds of proprietary and yes, I know that shit is whack.
She’s a job.
A client.
I can’t be feeling anything for her other than a dedication to my job to protect her life.
My hands ball into fists as I stand beside Jayce just at the edge of the stage, and we watch her final song. She’s wearing a black body suit with sparkling crystals sewn all over. Chunks of the unitard are cut out in strategic places, revealing parts of her body.
Right across her breasts.
Her lower back.
Outer thigh.
One entire arm.
Hints of flesh and sexiness as she struts across the stage. The song has a hip-hop vibe to it and her backup dancers are really good. But Joslyn is amazing, particularly performing some of the moves in four-inch stiletto heeled boots in black patent leather.
What I love most about her look tonight though is her hair. It’s long, loose, flowing. It seems to have way more volume than normal and I’m not sure how that’s accomplished, but when she dances it bounces and sways in almost a mesmerizing fashion. I met her stylist, Michel, tonight when I followed Jayce and Joslyn to the theater inside The Blue Diamond Casino. I would have rather brought her in my vehicle so we could continue to talk, but I was technically off duty and Jayce was on. Besides, I didn’t want anyone to even hazard a guess that I might be a little crazy over this girl, especially since it’s inappropriate as hell.
I sure as hell don’t want anyone to know that half of those thoughts about her are dirty as fuck, because as much as I like her mind and her personality, I like her exterior package a hell of a lot too. Images of me holding her hair while I’m in her from behind threaten to make my cock go rogue, so I think of something else.