on Denise’s face, this time Caressa prevailed. Kyle tried to feel happy for her, but disgruntlement reigned.
The next three days passed in a tense standoff. Kyle did everything he’d agreed to do as her assistant, but that was the extent of their interactions—in reality anyway. In his mind, Kyle interacted with her until Caressa could barely walk. He fucked her, tied her up, gagged her, teased and tormented her. He made her moan, and when she fought him he held her down and fucked her harder.
If she was having similar thoughts, she hid them well. They got on a plane to Portland and Caressa sat alone with her cello case in the two-across seat. Denise glanced over at her and then back at Kyle.
“It’s probably better this way.”
“Mm.” Kyle thought for the hundredth time that he should resign and let the constant temptation that dogged him fall into someone else’s hands. But he wasn’t capable of walking away from her, not now. “Whatever makes her happy, I guess,” he said, only because Denise seemed to be waiting for some answer from him.
“Everything I do is for Caressa’s happiness,” she replied in an unctuous tone.
“Do you really think she’s happy?”
“In her own way she is. This is what she lives for. It’s not always easy for her, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“She put the music ahead of you , didn’t she?” She didn’t say it cruelly, but Kyle got the message loud and clear. Denise shifted and clasped her hands in her lap. “Please, whatever you do, don’t try to make her choose. You’ll end up with more of a mess than you can manage.”
“I would never ask her to choose.”
“Not in so many words, I’m sure. But she’s already conflicted.”
“Why does it have to be either-or? Why can’t she have a relationship with me and still do her music too? This unhealthy obsession—”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand that she’s living half a life, and the half is all music. I took her to the mall and she was walking around like Alice in Wonderland. She’s twenty years old. What does your life look like when you’re twenty and you’ve never even hung out at a mall? What has she ever done that normal kids do?”
“She’s not a kid.”
“Not now. But five years ago she was. What was she doing five years ago?”
Denise bit her lip and didn’t answer.
“Let me guess. Practicing her cello, appearing at concerts, and poring over reviews.”
“Yes. And that’s exactly what she wanted to be doing.”
“How do you know? What else has she ever been allowed to do?”
“It’s not a matter of ‘allowing’! She does all of this by choice.”
Kyle stopped, glancing over at Caressa. She could see they were arguing, and quickly looked away. “By choice . Yes, that’s what I hear,” Kyle said in a lower voice. “But it seems like only one choice is allowed. What if she chooses to be with me? What if she chooses a real life instead of this musical bubble she’s living in?”
Denise looked over at him, her deep brown eyes sincere and resolute. “If she chooses, she chooses. You are not listening to my words. You do not make her choose. It must be her choice. You understand?”
“I would never force her to choose,” he grumbled, sitting back in his seat. But part of him knew that’s what he was already doing. Poking, peeling away the protective layer that kept her focused and productive. He wanted to show her the wide world she’d forsaken to become a musical virtuosa . But was he doing it for her—or for him?
It was just a short flight and soon they were preparing the cabin for landing. He looked over at Caressa and saw her fingers curled around the handle of her cello case. He wanted to be holding that hand. He wanted to make her happy, make her laugh in that same giddy way she’d laughed at the mall that day. There was no malice in it, no desire to ruin her, just a desire to help her discover
The next three days passed in a tense standoff. Kyle did everything he’d agreed to do as her assistant, but that was the extent of their interactions—in reality anyway. In his mind, Kyle interacted with her until Caressa could barely walk. He fucked her, tied her up, gagged her, teased and tormented her. He made her moan, and when she fought him he held her down and fucked her harder.
If she was having similar thoughts, she hid them well. They got on a plane to Portland and Caressa sat alone with her cello case in the two-across seat. Denise glanced over at her and then back at Kyle.
“It’s probably better this way.”
“Mm.” Kyle thought for the hundredth time that he should resign and let the constant temptation that dogged him fall into someone else’s hands. But he wasn’t capable of walking away from her, not now. “Whatever makes her happy, I guess,” he said, only because Denise seemed to be waiting for some answer from him.
“Everything I do is for Caressa’s happiness,” she replied in an unctuous tone.
“Do you really think she’s happy?”
“In her own way she is. This is what she lives for. It’s not always easy for her, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“She put the music ahead of you , didn’t she?” She didn’t say it cruelly, but Kyle got the message loud and clear. Denise shifted and clasped her hands in her lap. “Please, whatever you do, don’t try to make her choose. You’ll end up with more of a mess than you can manage.”
“I would never ask her to choose.”
“Not in so many words, I’m sure. But she’s already conflicted.”
“Why does it have to be either-or? Why can’t she have a relationship with me and still do her music too? This unhealthy obsession—”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand that she’s living half a life, and the half is all music. I took her to the mall and she was walking around like Alice in Wonderland. She’s twenty years old. What does your life look like when you’re twenty and you’ve never even hung out at a mall? What has she ever done that normal kids do?”
“She’s not a kid.”
“Not now. But five years ago she was. What was she doing five years ago?”
Denise bit her lip and didn’t answer.
“Let me guess. Practicing her cello, appearing at concerts, and poring over reviews.”
“Yes. And that’s exactly what she wanted to be doing.”
“How do you know? What else has she ever been allowed to do?”
“It’s not a matter of ‘allowing’! She does all of this by choice.”
Kyle stopped, glancing over at Caressa. She could see they were arguing, and quickly looked away. “By choice . Yes, that’s what I hear,” Kyle said in a lower voice. “But it seems like only one choice is allowed. What if she chooses to be with me? What if she chooses a real life instead of this musical bubble she’s living in?”
Denise looked over at him, her deep brown eyes sincere and resolute. “If she chooses, she chooses. You are not listening to my words. You do not make her choose. It must be her choice. You understand?”
“I would never force her to choose,” he grumbled, sitting back in his seat. But part of him knew that’s what he was already doing. Poking, peeling away the protective layer that kept her focused and productive. He wanted to show her the wide world she’d forsaken to become a musical virtuosa . But was he doing it for her—or for him?
It was just a short flight and soon they were preparing the cabin for landing. He looked over at Caressa and saw her fingers curled around the handle of her cello case. He wanted to be holding that hand. He wanted to make her happy, make her laugh in that same giddy way she’d laughed at the mall that day. There was no malice in it, no desire to ruin her, just a desire to help her discover
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