Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,67

phone on the table, her movements easy and graceful. She wears her hair in one of those complicated braid things it looks like you need a degree to do, the dark and coppery length tamed to rest on one shoulder. She’s paired dark skinny jeans with her trademark stilettos and a slouchy shirt hangs off one shoulder.

The seat beside her is occupied, so I take the one across from

her. She glances up, catching my eyes on her. The tiny frown pulling between her brows is the only indication she gives that she even knows I’m here.

“Let the party begin,” Rhyson says from the door, wearing one of the ear-to-ear grins he seems to have all the time since he got married. The fact that Kai is also pregnant . . . well, let’s just say it must hurt to smile that hard.

“You think you could tone down that smile, Rhys?” Max, Prodigy’s head marketing guy and cynic-in-chief, asks. “It’s too early for such joy.”

Rhyson takes the seat at the head of the table, but his smile doesn’t budge. Max just came through a nasty divorce, so he and Rhys are in very different places. So are we, for that matter. I won’t lie. Seeing Rhyson settle down with someone who loves him the way Kai does and seeing them preparing for their first kid, it makes me wonder how close I am to any of that. I’m knocking on thirty years old. I’m in no hurry, though. My album drops in three weeks, and all my hard work is about to pay off. Is already paying off. Still, I’d like someone to share it with. Not just some groupie. A friend, a lover, a partner.

Bristol’s head is lowered over an open folder. As hard as she works, as single-minded as she is about her job, you’d never guess family is everything to her. I’ve never met anyone who works harder than Bristol. She’s ambitious, yes, but people don’t realize what fuels it. She works hard for the people she cares about. I’m not even sure that Rhyson’s career would have exploded the way it did without Bristol. She was the one who pushed him to get back to making his own music. When she and Rhyson were barely on speaking terms, she chose her degree based on his future and relocated from New York with no guarantees. She’s sacrificed a lot over the last year building this record label not just for success, but out of love for her brother.

I always refused when she asked to manage me, too, because I didn’t want to be just a job to her. I gave in a few months ago, hoping that working together so closely would force her to acknowledge the attraction, the connection between us. But she has somehow managed to keep me out, even as she propelled my career forward. I had success before she came onboard, but I know the unprecedented doors opening for me now are doors Bristol banged on and kicked in.

“Before we get started,” Rhyson says, his grin now aimed at me and growing. “Marlon, dude, what the hell happened to your hair? Kitchen fire?”

He and my mom. The only ones who still call me Marlon. “Jokes.” I nod, suppressing my grin. We pretty much bust each

other’s balls every chance we get, a fifteen-year habit. “Nah. Just wanted something different.”

When Jade came over last night, we started reminiscing about old times in the neighborhood where I grew up. Hard times. Thinking about how far I’ve come since then, how much has happened, made me even more excited for this next chapter. I feel something fresh happening inside of me, and I wanted the outside to reflect it.

“Well, you look about twelve.” Rhyson ignores the middle finger I slowly slip into the air in his honor. “Okay, Bris. Tell us what we’re doing.”

Bristol flicks a glance my way before diving in. I think she’s still adjusting to the new hair, or lack thereof. I am, too.

“Okay. Just to put us on the same page.” Bristol looks down the table at everyone. “We’re talking about the Target Exclusive.”

I still can’t believe it. Target approached us about an exclusive edition of Grip, my debut solo album. Usually reserved for the likes of Beyoncé and Taylor Swift, an opportunity like this is something we can’t pass up. But we’ll have to work our asses off to get it done in time. Fortunately, working my ass off is one of my