Encore (Stereo Hearts Book 2) (22 page)

“There’s a collage that just popped up on Instagram, made by one of your shippers. It encompasses dozens of photos—photos of you staring at Aria, onstage. And just in case anyone tried to debunk this obsessed fan’s collage, she put it into Photoshop and painted
bright red arrows
from your eyes to Aria’s in every. Single. Photo.”

Yoshi chortled. “They’re passionate. What can I say?”

“They’ve also, somehow, dug up production footage from the Brit Awards, where you’re holding Aria’s hand backstage. It’s blurry, but it’s definitely you and her. If we ignore it, it’ll go away. But I need you to be more conscious of your actions with her in public.”

Yoshi held his hands up. “I hear you. No more staring at Aria. No PDA in public.”

Silence fell, and they went back to their food.

But Yoshi couldn’t eat. He dropped his utensils. “Fuck. I’m nominated for a
Grammy
?”

Simon chuckled.

And in the next moment, the American girls who’d been giggling from the distance finally found the balls to approach their table.

Leroy, who’d been lingering in the shadows a comfortable distance away, stepped in to intervene.

Yoshi held a hand up to stop him. “It’s all good, Leroy.”

“Excuse me…” The bravest of the girls, a blushing redhead, came to a stop next to the table. Her thighs clenched in her short shorts, arms sealed to her sides. She clutched Yoshi’s album in one trembling hand while pushing her hair behind her ear with the other. “I’m really sorry to bother you, but aren’t you…?”

Yoshi smiled at her. “I am.”

“Oh, my God, I just love you so much. I’m
so sorry
to bother you.”

“You’re never bothering me, sweetheart.”

She squealed. “I’m really sorry, but can you sign my—”

“Of course.” Yoshi couldn’t let her finish. Like being nominated for a Grammy, he could hardly comprehend that this was happening. Another human being gave a shit that he was sitting at a table having lunch. She’d given so much of a shit, in fact, that she’d been
fearful
of approaching him. Of asking him for something as simple as an autograph. Was it even a question? Of course he would sign her album. What man in his position wouldn’t?

As the rest of the girls approached the table, all giggling and requesting their own autographs and pictures, Yoshi shot Simon another look.

And he decided, right there, that he would never question that man again.

--

“Baby, I’m gonna come,” Yoshi gasped against Aria’s lips, thrusting desperately, clawing the sheets and blanket clear off the king-sized bed as his hips slammed into her splayed thighs. The moment he whispered the words to her, her pussy seemed to grow slicker, tighter. He didn’t know if she was doing it on purpose, though he suspected she was by the coy smile on her lips, but it did him in. She caught his scream in a tongue-fueled kiss just as his back arched with his orgasm, his body trembling as he emptied himself inside her, so possessed by the pleasure he tore the sheets off the corners of the bed.

She moaned into the rich kiss, clawing his ass in her hands to keep him deep inside, purring against his lips with every residual flinch of his hips, swirling her own until she was sure the pleasure he felt was ebbing into pain.

Yoshi clapped a hand on her hips with a soft laugh, pulling out when the incredible sensation became unbearable. Once his glistening dick was free, he collapsed, cuddling his head into her breasts as he tried to get his labored breathing under control. The nails she ran through his hair made his eyes flutter, and his mind instantly went to the pills he’d scammed from Phil that morning. For the first time in weeks, he knew he could fall asleep easily in that hotel bed.

“God…” he mumbled against the nipple he’d just taken into his mouth, suckling it patiently before moving to the other. He held her gaze the entire time, cuddled between her legs. “Did you come?”

She tugged her fingers through his hair, but didn’t answer.

Yoshi knew that meant she hadn’t, and with a groan he moved his kisses from her nipple and down her stomach, lashing his tongue against her skin, down her heaving belly.

“We don’t have time, Yosh.” She gripped his hair harder. “We’ve got sound check in five minutes. It’s bad enough we’re going to show up smelling like sweat and semen. We can’t show up
late
smelling like sweat and semen. Especially not me, since I’m brown-skinned. The brown girl showing up late
and
stinking? No. I have to represent for my peoples.”

Yoshi pressed his chin into her stomach, laughing up at her. “We’re almost a month into the European leg, and you’ve yet to be late to a single rehearsal. I think you can get away with it this one time.”

“And I think you have no idea what it means to be black. All it’ll take is one time—one time showing up late—and I will be forever branded ‘that black girl who’s always late.’ Forever, Yosh.”

“All right, all right…” he groaned, sitting up. “But this pussy is mine after the show.”

“This pussy’s always yours.”

When she tried to sit up, Yoshi placed a hand on her shoulder, easing her back down onto the pillows.

She fell back with a grin. “Yoshi.” She mocked anger. “We have no time.”

His eyes searched hers as he ran the beds of his fingers along her face, over each of her eyebrows. She hadn’t worn her patch in weeks, and it made his heart sing.

“I got you something,” he whispered.

Her smile bloomed. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did,” he sang, leaping to the foot of the bed and lying on his stomach, snatching his duffle bag from the floor. After shuffling through it and retrieving what he’d been looking for, he returned to her with the item behind his back.

She’d pushed herself up against the headboard, her nipples still glistening from his attentions, her pussy still swollen between her crossed thighs. His tongue ached to taste it, and he crawled back over to her.

Her eyes lit up when he came to a stop, sitting up on his knees. Clutching her knee with one hand, he presented a small black velvet box in the other.

“Baby,” she breathed.

“On the way back from lunch with Simon, I walked by a window, and I saw it…” He popped the box open, revealing the eighteen-carat, white gold oval halo engagement ring.

It gleamed, but not with nearly as much luster as her eyes. She studied the ring.

He swallowed when a silence fell in. “Do you like it?” he whispered, realizing he had tears in his own eyes when he heard it break his voice.

Aria lifted her eyes to his, held his gaze, and a knowing smile spread across her lips. “Carmen is staying.”

Yoshi’s mouth fell open.

Her voice lowered. “Isn’t she?”

Yoshi went to answer, and when no words came, his heart nearly climbed out of his throat.

“I’m not mad,” Aria said. “I know you love me as much as I love you. I believe in our love. And I want you to see the highest heights that are possible for you to see. I trust you with all my heart, Yosh.” She took a deep breath. “But I won’t wear that ring until the world knows my name. Until they know the sound of my name being spoken next to yours.”

Yoshi took the ring from the box under shaking fingers. “But I want them all to see this ring on your finger—Simon, Carmen,
everyone
—so they understand I’m wide awake. So they are completely and utterly clear on whom it is I really love. Who my heart really belongs to. My Bo. My day one.” Yoshi tried to put the ring on her finger, but she kept her hand just out of his reach. “Please?” he whispered, meeting her eyes.

She lifted her left hand, showing him the lime-green string tied around her finger. The one she’d had to re-tie, re-pin, and re-glue a million times since she’d donned it.

“You want that diamond ring on my finger so everyone understands that you’re wide awake.” She held her left hand higher. “And I want this string around my finger so
you
understand that
I’m
wide awake.”

Yoshi’s hands fell to the bed, and he was lost for words again.

Aria leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss, grazing the edge of his jaw with the tips of her fingers, her lips tickling his as she whispered, “I love you more than life itself.”

Yoshi dug his fingers into her naked hips.

“But I won’t wear that ring until you say my name.” She pulled back and held his eyes. Then she gave him a playful shove. “Now get up. We’re late for sound check.”

When he just sat there, motionless, she had to bend her knees to leave the bed with the little space he’d allotted her between his body and the headboard.

Even as she stood and got dressed behind him, Yoshi stared straight ahead, drinking in the tufted purple headboard, tightening the ring he held into a fist.

He tried to remind himself that he was an international superstar, growing bigger every day. That he’d just been accosted by a hoard of fans at a restaurant in Rome. That he was nominated for a Grammy.

A
Grammy.

He waited for the joy, for the exuberance, the relief he’d always known would come.

But all he felt was his heart in his throat.

15

The most amazing thing about Yoshi’s concerts, to Aria, was hearing his crowd singing his words back to him. Even more amazing than that was his ability to still showcase the buttery quality of his voice, without attempting to sing over the echoes of his adoring crowd. As she did her two-step in the back, shooting occasional winks at Emily to her right, her heart was full.

Not because of the sold-out crowd in Rome, or the thousands of white lights flickering in every corner of the arena as Yoshi crooned his final ballad. No, her heart was full because the ring that meant the most to her was still around her left finger, and the ring meant to appease her, to keep her quiet in this crazy life they were quickly spiraling into, wasn’t.

She tightened her fingers around that lime-green string, and she was okay.

Then, in the middle of a harmony that always came easily, her voice gave.

It was so sudden it stunned her, making the break even more noticeable than if she’d been ready for it—as she often was with the higher notes she tended to struggle with.

To the untrained ear, and especially to an audience who was solely focused on Yoshi, it was a small slip.

But he heard it.

His eyes flew over his shoulder and latched onto hers. Though he didn’t miss a beat, questions saturated Yoshi’s eyes. It wasn’t normal for Aria to flub that note. In fact, she never had, and for a perfectionist like him, it must’ve sounded like a bomb going off.

He raised his eyebrows at her, and Aria felt Emily’s curious gaze hit her from the corner of her eye too.

Her heart hammered against her chest, but she did her best to swallow it back and recover, resuming the melody and praying it didn’t happen again.

It didn’t, and she made a silent note to up the dosage on her medication.

Surely if she upped the dosage, things would get better.

--

Things didn’t get better, and if Aria weren’t crazy, she’d go so far to say that, as the tour powered on and the shows came and went, things got worse. Maintaining her voice became more of a struggle, from Europe to Africa, and a week into the American leg, there was still no improvement. She’d even switched to a different medication, but like clockwork, after a few shows without event, her voice would crack in the middle of a song or fall away altogether.

“Baby, your voice went in the middle of almost every song last night,” Yoshi said, gently. “Every. Song.”

From where she stood, elevated on a dressing room podium in Valentino’s flagship store on Rodeo Drive, Aria sighed through her nostrils.

She eyed the woman below her, a Spanish seamstress holding one needle between her teeth while working another into the delicate fabric of Aria’s cutout mermaid-tail gown.

Yoshi had brought Aria to the store weeks before to choose a dress for the Grammys, and she’d fallen in love with this one on sight. After store employees finished a job she always found tedious—building the rest of the outfit—gold Louboutin sandals and gold accessories had been added to the mix, accentuating the dress without taking it over the top.

The cap-sleeve gown’s glittery gold sequins sparkled against the bright lights of the fitting area that afternoon. A deep slit ran up the side, showcasing one of her never-ending legs, which she usually kept hidden in jeans. Yoshi had already crossed the room twice to sneak a few kisses of her chocolaty thigh.

As he smiled at her from the circular white couch in the middle of the dressing room, he looked seconds from approaching the podium to steal a third. Thankfully, he’d bought out the store for the night, so he was free to worship her with abandon.

He twirled a tumbler of whiskey in his hands. His body never stopped moving, legs bopping, fingers tapping against the glass. When that glass went empty, he’d grow irritated, searching the area for the employee who’d been supplying the refills. Aria couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him sleep. She knew, behind those gold aviator sunglasses, his eyes were blood red.

The seamstress shot Yoshi a coy smile, and Aria allowed herself to focus on the beautiful dress.

“Can we not talk about this?” Aria begged, falling in love with the dress all over again as the seamstress took it to the next level. She tilted her head at the picture the mirror gave her, then met Yoshi’s eyes in the reflection. “Tonight is your big night. You’re nominated for nine Grammys. I don’t want to make it about me right now.”

“In my world, everything is about you. And it hurts me that you’re not going to be singing behind me onstage tonight because your doctor is fucking up your medication. This isn’t just my dream, Bo.” He held his arms out. The sequined gold pocket square in his tuxedo matched her dress to the letter, a purposeful move on their part since, once again, Carmen would be on his arm for most of the night. It was a subtle message, but one they knew the
Yaria
shippers wouldn’t miss. Pleasing them had become one of their favorite pastimes. “It’s
our
dream. And one of our biggest was to sing on the Grammy stage together.”

“And we will.” She smiled. “Just not this year. I can’t make my voice come back when it wants to be gone. It’s not meant to be this time.”

His jaw tightened. “Simon has already signed the understudy, keeping her in place for the rest of the tour.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“If it was just me noticing the problem, I’d keep it quiet, but now that Simon has approached me…” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “And it isn’t just him, Bo. Gus has said something. So has Tommy.”

Aria cursed under her breath as she thought of their lead sound technician.

“Even some of the road crew has approached me, wondering what’s going on with your voice.” Yoshi sighed when he saw the look in her eyes. “I’m not saying this to upset you. I’m saying it because we need to figure out what’s wrong and fix it. Find a different doctor. Hell, two different doctors. Get a second, third, and fourth opinion.”

Aria wrung her hands together. “I think it might come down to that. I keep upping the dosage, and now the doctor refuses to go any higher. He can’t figure out what’s wrong and neither can I. It’s just so strange…” She paused, thinking. “I’ve been on this medication for five years, and it’s only just giving me problems now?”

“The human body is complex. Vocal cords are fragile, and you’ve been putting a lot of stress on yours. It’s bound to happen on a tour this long—exposed to so many different people, countries, and climates. You might be growing immune to the medicine. All I know is that I
need
you to be singing behind me, and I’m extremely pissed off that people are pulling me aside to whisper in my ear about problems they’re hearing.”

Her eyes suddenly changed. “What if I can’t ever sing again?” Her voice rose as a panic swept in. “Yoshi, what if I lose my—”

“You’re not going to lose your voice.” He tried to stop her train of thought before it went any further.

She stomped her foot when tears stung her eyes. “Damn it, Yoshi. I told you I didn’t want to talk about this on your big night. Thank God I haven’t gotten my makeup done or I’d be on the verge of ruining it with my dramatic tears.”

“It will never be my big night if it isn’t yours too. If you’re hurting, I’m losing. And I can see you’re hurting, so talk to me.”

Her expression turned vulnerable and she exhaled, eyes shining. “Singing is
all
I have left.”

Yoshi’s jaw went slack, and when the first tear fell from her eyes, it tightened.

“Can you give us a minute?” he asked the seamstress, who smiled at him and gave a sharp nod before leaving the dressing room.

He approached the podium, taking her waist and burying his nose into the small of her back, just above the swell of her ass. He breathed her in before slinging his arms around her thighs, laying his chin on her full bottom. He shook her. “Singing is not all you have, Aria. You have me. You’ll always have me, and we’re going to fix it. I promise you.” When he was met with silence, he shook her again. “Have I ever made you a promise I haven’t kept?”

More silence. Then a shaky, “They’ve been looking for any reason to throw me off this tour, and now they’ve got it.”

“Nobody is throwing you off the tour. Even if you have to sit out a few shows while we figure this out, no fucking way I’m allowing you to be removed. And as soon as I win this Grammy?” He circled the podium and took hold of her hips, pressing his chin into her stomach, looking up at her. “I will, officially, be too big to move, and no one will tell me who I can and can’t be with. No one will tell me who I can and can’t have on my tour. Nobody will
ever
tell me how to live and who to love, never again. After tonight…” He exhaled. “Everything will change, baby. I promise you that.”

His hands circled her body and he cupped her ass, drinking in her laugh and the playful shove that followed. He tugged her back in, pressing his cheek into her stomach as they fell into a prolonged embrace.

“Who says you’re going to win?” she teased. “You fall deeper in love with yourself every day, you know that?”

“Of course your boy is gonna win.” He tightened his hold. “Don’t you know who I am?”

--

“And the Grammy for Best New Artist goes to…” Gloria Estefan and Marc Anthony gazed down at the envelope as she fumbled to unfold it. After throwing a sheepish smile towards the crowd, Gloria managed to get it open, and they both smiled. “Yoshi,
Kings and Queens
!”

And with those four words, Yoshi swept his nominations. Narrowly escaping the kiss Carmen tried to place on his cheek from the seat next to him, her ninth attempt of the night, he took hold of the back of his chair and pushed himself to a stand, smiling the whole way.

After taking all nine categories, the crowd had no choice but to leap to their feet for Yoshi, the applause deafening. Even though he’d called it with Aria in the dressing room earlier that day, he still found himself shaking his head in disbelief, moving on wobbly legs, and sharing an amazed handshake with Phil as they made their way towards the steps that led up to the stage.

Yoshi motioned for Phil to go ahead of him, his eyes riveted to Aria, who stood between Gus and Carmen. As he passed her, licking his lips and giving her a coy smile, he couldn’t help but reach out and brush the tips of his fingers on her waist.

They shared a secret smile.

He could feel the blazing fury of Simon’s eyes burning his cheek from next to Gus, but he didn’t care.

He let his fingers fall away before the touch became suspect. If he’d let it go on even a second longer, there wouldn’t be a question in anyone’s mind where his heart was. His mind. His soul.

He took the steps to the stage two at a time, doing a celebratory shuffle once he made it to the top, a shot of adrenaline racing through him from one simple touch of Aria’s waist. He accepted a kiss on the cheek from Gloria, and a handshake from Marc, receiving the Grammy he had on offer, unable to wipe the blinding smile on his face.

He faced the crowd with teary eyes as he found himself met with a standing ovation.

Even Phil clapped for Yoshi, looking back at him from the mic stand.

Phil motioned to the microphone.

Yoshi frowned at him and did the same.

Laughter bloomed from the crowd as the two of them waged a silent war, until Phil eventually gave in and stepped up to the microphone.

Yoshi came to a stop next to him, and the applause died down as Phil gave his thanks, rushing through it, as if what Yoshi had to say was more important.

But Yoshi was fine. With a calm hand in his pocket, he was unable to stop his gaze from traveling down to Aria. She stood, looking stunning in that gold sequined dress, with her hands cradled over her heart. Every other second, she slapped away tears before placing her hands back over her heart.

“I love you,” he mouthed, matching the glorious smile that spread over her tear-filled face. Just in case she didn’t get it, he lifted his eyebrows high, motioning to her with his Grammy. He moved his lips slower. “I. Love. You.”

He didn’t miss the way most of the guests in their section smiled warmly at Carmen, assuming she was the receiver of Yoshi’s whispered affections. A woman in the row behind Carmen even reached forward and squeezed her shoulder. Grammy production staff made the same assumption, because a cameraman had zeroed in on Carmen in seconds, filming her reaction. She kept a smile on her face like a pro, even though her eyes screamed that she knew who Yoshi was really speaking to.

“I. Love. You,” Aria mouthed from the crowd, too emotional, proud, and utterly oblivious to anything other than the man on stage to realize what was happening around her.

Yoshi licked his lips at her, fantasizing about all the filthy things he was going to do to her once he got her back to their mansion in the hills. He didn’t even notice Phil finishing his speech until the man placed a hand on his back, pushing him towards the microphone.

Yoshi kept his eyes on Aria, feeling them growing moist with his own emotion. “Man, there are so many people I need to thank tonight.” His mind wasn’t racing; in fact, it was zeroed in on one person. One girl. The only girl who mattered. Thinking any other name but ‘Aria’ proved difficult in that moment, leaving him a stuttering fool as he smiled down at her. “Uh, um… my manager. Gus VanSant.” He said a silent prayer of thanks when his mind recovered, breaking his gaze away from Aria for the first time to motion to Gus, who brought prayer hands to his lips, shaking his head at Yoshi with a smile. “Simon Brady, my brother Phillip Gold…” Yoshi motioned over his shoulder to Phil. “My producer, Ari Lawrence. Thank you for everything. Lastly, I want to dedicate this award to…” He paused, catching Aria’s eyes again, locking onto the blue eye that she hadn’t covered up in months. “I want to dedicate this award, and this amazing night, to my
Bo
.”