Beautiful Noise

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

E zren.

By the time I finally rolled out of bed, it was just after seven in the evening. My body felt weighted, sluggish but also well rested. Traveling was hard, mentally and physically. Hotel hopping, regardless of how luxurious the establishments, never replaced the comfort of sleeping in your own bed, under your own roof.

Dragging my stiff frame with more effort than it should have required, I was on my way to the kitchen to tend to my growling stomach. I prayed my mother stocked the fridge but there was a slight possibility she hadn’t. If I was lucky she’d hooked me up, considering she knew what I liked. Thoughts of my mother circled back to Kori and then to the food I’d skipped out on.

Damn I should have eaten that pasta last night.

I hated that I’d allowed my anger to get the best of me but what the hell else was I supposed to do? There was a stranger living in my house. A stranger I couldn’t get rid of without going to war with my mother and being on the front line in opposition with Gwendolyn Shaw was nothing to take lightly. She and I shared the same qualities—stubborn, determined, and the need to always be right being our most dominant traits.

I groaned at the way she could manipulate me to do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted, but hell, I loved that woman. I owed her my entire life. Without her, I wouldn’t be the success I was. So yeah, I allowed my mother to have her way even at the expense of my peace.

As soon as I entered the kitchen, my eyes landed on the counter where I’d left my food last night. The space was empty and the reality made my stomach growl louder than necessary.

“Chill, I’m working on it,” I mumbled, stalking to the refrigerator.

Jackpot.

Sitting lovely, tucked in the corner, were two glass containers with plastic lids. The same two that had been on the stove when I’d arrived home last night and discovered my unwanted houseguest.

Grabbing them both, I opened the one filled with pasta and made busy work of getting it in the microwave. After several minutes, when it was steaming hot, I placed a slice of bread in for a few seconds before grabbing a fork and diving into the pasta.

The minute the flavorful melody settled against my tongue and my tastebuds acknowledged the flavor, I nodded in approval, leaning against the counter with my legs spread wide, holding the dish in one hand while I overloaded my fork with the other.

“Damn, either I’m extremely hungry or this shit is bomb.”

There’s no way she made this. Nah, this is all my OG.

I piled another forkful in my mouth before mumbling, “Moms definitely made this.”

“No, she didn’t. I made it and you could have at least asked before ransacking my leftovers. Maybe I was going to have that for dinner.”

My eyes shot up to find her , standing in the opening to the kitchen wearing a scowl that paired lovely with the tight pants and T-shirt she had on. Nothing like a sexy, angry woman in need of some straightening. My eyes continued to roam until they landed on pert nipples that greeted me same as they had the night before.

“You might want to consider a bra,” I mumbled before forcing another load of pasta into my mouth, speaking through unrefined chews. “Not that I don’t enjoy the view but I’m guessing you’re not offering it intentionally.”

Her face tensed and I highly expected some type of coverup to follow but instead she rolled her shoulder back and flicked her wrist at me.

“And you might want to consider pants. That’s completely inappropriate.”

“This is my house. If I want to walk around butt assed naked, I could and it would be completely appropriate, sweetheart.”

“Kori.”

“What?”

“My name is Kori, not sweetheart.” Her words were followed by a throaty groan of irritation and a dramatic roll of her eyes. When mine remained on her body, she slowly folded her arms across her chest. “And wear what you want. You’re right, this is your house, but I’m allowed to critique whatever I see so you better pray you measure up.”

With a knowing smirk, my eyes lowered down my body before lifting to meet with hers after a brief delay. Her vision had followed the same path mine had traveled. It was redundant to acknowledge that I definitely measured up, because my briefs did very little to hide what I was working with, so I kept quiet.

“Not the R&B singer being overly cocky and arrogant. Imagine that,” she mumbled, walking into the kitchen where she snatched the refrigerator open, grabbing and dumping a few items onto the counter. One I was very familiar with. The craft paper and logo gave it away. Steaks from Sal’s Prime Cuts. That was all my mother’s doing but I kept my mouth closed and observed.

After a few moments of silently avoiding me, she glanced over her shoulder and motioned to the container I was holding which was a few bites away from being empty.

“I’m assuming I don’t need to include you in my dinner plans,” she muttered.

“Me, no, but my stomach, yes. Those steaks are for me.”

Big brown eyes narrowed, locking intently with mine. “You don’t know that.”

“Actually, I do. There’s no way in hell you know anything about Sal’s.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

I chuckled and polished off the last two forkfuls of pasta before walking to the sink, which she was standing right next to. We were now inches apart. Close enough for the two of us to be very aware of each other’s proximity but not close enough to enjoy it. And damn if I didn’t want to. She smelled like caramel and vanilla. It was faint but very present and had my mind drifting to thoughts of my tongue on her skin.

Noticing how stiff and uneasy she became I decided to push things a little further, reaching past her head while I leaned in close. Her eyelids fluttered and her lips separated slightly. A clear sign that she thought I was going to kiss her and if I wasn’t mistaken, she wanted me to. It took everything in me to resist because gotdamn those lips…

Thankfully we both were snapped back to reality when the cabinet behind her slammed shut and I backed away with a glass in my hand, grinning triumphantly seconds before continuing our debate about the steaks.

“The only way to know about Sal’s is by word of mouth. He’s sort of a hidden gem in the city but also historical in a sense.”

She sucked in a slow breath, looking as if she needed the oxygen to refuel her brain. “That doesn’t prove your point, Ezren .”

I chuckled at her use of my government name. It was meant to annoy, and most of the time it did, however, it wasn’t so terrible passing through those pretty lips of hers.

“It does. That accent is more Texan than ATL which means you’re not from here and considering my mother and Sal are old friends I’d bet my ass she’s the one responsible for those.” I pointed to the packaging on the counter behind her.

I turned to remove the bottle of apple juice from the refrigerator and completely filled my glass which garnered me a dirty look because I’d emptied what was left.

“That still doesn’t prove anything,” she shot back, shrugging as she turned to face the counter, likely to end the struggle she was having with herself about avoiding certain parts of my anatomy. I made her nervous.

This little arrangement my mother has forced me into is going to be fun .

“Also, those steaks are a hundred dollars a cut and since you’re currently homeless , I’d be willing to guess you can’t afford them.”

“I’m not homeless.” From the evil look she offered I sensed I’d struck a nerve. I didn’t know her story, yet, but I fully intended to find out what landed her here. My mother loved a good project and apparently Kori was her new undertaking.

“Yep.” I finished my juice in a few large gulps before sliding the glass across the counter and proceeding to leave the kitchen, pausing to offer one last taunt to annoy Kori.

“Medium well for mine and don’t over season it. Like I said, those are expensive.”

I didn’t hang around long enough to hear her reply or argument for how I didn’t have the right to tell her how to cook my food for me in my house but I was sure she was grounding out an earful about what an ass I was.

Fucking with my new houseguest was easier than I liked. I just hated how easily I was sucked into her pretty face and flippant attitude and tempting body.

What the hell am I saying?

She wasn’t my type. My type was convenient, no strings attached, and most of all, a woman with no access to me or my personal life so if and when she misinterpreted the no strings attached part, I didn’t have to worry about her disrupting my peace.

Kori was a temporary resident which meant she had all of the above and should have been a hard pass. But no matter how much I didn’t want her here, my dick was more than willing to entertain my houseguest. He fully welcomed the opportunity to have a little fun with those lips, thighs, and what rested between them, which meant I needed to stay away from Kori as much as possible before things got complicated.

“Yeah, that’s dope as fuck. I’m in the studio now listening to it.”

“You wanted to feel that shit, right. Needed the full depth of all the acoustics. You catch that sample?”

“Come on, Clay. I know my shit. Grover Washington Jr., ‘Hydra’.”

“Damn sure is. That pulled it all together on some real shit.”

“Hell yeah it did. I’m gonna play around with it later. Run some vocals over it. I wrote a little something on the flight home.”

“Send it to me when you get it how you want the sound.”

“You know you’ll be the only person I trust but you know it will be the truth.”

“I have no doubt and don’t play that shit down on my behalf.” I laughed and leaned back, hitting play once more to vibe out to the track he sent when he asked, “So you ready to work on another album or you finally gonna take the break you promise to take after every tour, but never do?”

I smirked, brushed a hand over my head, then allowed my fingers to rake through my beard. “I take breaks.”

“A break to you is not recording on a schedule. Clearly your ass doesn’t understand what rest is.”

“I do, but shit, when the music speaks to my soul, I have to listen. And if I listen, then I have to record. Blessing and a curse.”

My moment was ruined when I noticed a flash of light that only lasted for a few seconds. That meant someone opened the door to my studio and the only someone here was Kori.

“I’ll take that type of blessing and curse any day over the bullshit I have to deal with. Artists are a gotdamn headache. Temperamental as fuck and you swear you know my job better than me .”

“Maybe we do?”

“Fuck you, E. You know your shit and I know mine.”

I grinned, following the soft figure currently invading my space with my eyes. She paused, standing near the wall a few feet away, ignoring me while she took in everything around her. I didn’t mind, it gave me another opportunity to take her in, hating how much I was starting to look forward to these small moments.

One day and she already had my full attention.

“Indeed, but that’s what we create… magic.”

“And you muthafuckin’ know it.”

“But ay, I’ll get with you later this week when I have something for you.”

“Do what you need to do. I’m about to start a session.”

“Speaking of, what did Leijah think about the finished product?”

“Singing your praises like you need one more woman on your dick.”

I laughed, throwing my head back. Clay was my dude. He and I had linked up on my second album, and he’d been my only producer ever since. We just worked. He knew all about where I drew my inspiration from and because of that, I wasn’t the least bit offended by what he said.

“Don’t be jealous, fam. The ladies love you too, just not as much as they love me and my dick.”

I already had my eyes on Kori, so when hers shot over to me after my response to Clay, mine were waiting. That cute little nose of hers wrinkled at the same time her eyes rolled.

“Ay, I’m hanging up. This just took a turn for the worse.”

“Yeah, I got a little something I need to handle.”

After ending the call, I leaned back, spreading my legs wider, folding my arms behind my head, rocking slowly as I peered at Kori. Her eyes swept me from head to toe and if I wasn’t mistaken there was a flash of disappointment. Unlike our run-in earlier, where I was only in my briefs, currently I was fully dressed, clad in T-shirt and jeans.

“Is there something I can help you with, Kori?”

She ignored my question and moved deeper into the studio. The space was massive and took up the entire basement level, although it was broken up into sections. I had a small bedroom down here, a lounge area attached to a kitchenette, and the part where we currently were took up the most space, extending across the entire back wall. Here I had a soundboard and world class recording booth. My goal was to record my next project at home, start to finish.

“I bet this cost more than curing world hunger.”

I used my legs to swivel in my chair, following her movements through the room.

“Not quite but it wasn’t cheap.”

“Oh I’m sure you have it to spend.”

She turned to face me and I arched my brow in question. There hadn’t been a discussion about us specifically, but I assumed she knew who I was. She was an acquaintance of my mother. I could only assume she’d informed Kori who she was sharing space with.

The thought, which hadn’t occurred before, had me frowning. Was my status the reason she was here?

“How do you know my mother?”

“Ask her.”

“I’m asking you ?”

“I just do.” She shrugged, glancing at me over her shoulder and there was something there I couldn’t read but I damn sure didn’t miss that my question about her connection to my mother made Kori uncomfortable.

“Did you know who I was before or after meeting her?”

“After. I didn’t realize Ezren and Eccentric were one and the same until you walked through the door last night. She doesn’t call you Eccentric and she never mentioned your occupation. She didn’t mention much about you at all. Me being here is not motivated by some secret agenda to get close to you. Trust me, I don’t want anything you have to offer. None of this…” She circled a finger in the air, then in my direction. “Interests me.”

I call bullshit.

“That’s not exactly the truth, is it?”

She whipped around glaring and my gaze remained locked and steady before I stated the obvious. “You’re currently enjoying the comforts of this house which belongs to me.”

“I didn’t know the house belonged to you when I accepted the offer and need I remind you, your mother owns?—”

“Cut the shit, Kori. This is my house, you know it, so does my mother. Otherwise she wouldn’t be strong-arming me into allowing you to stay. I want to know why you’re here. Don’t you think I deserve that much of a courtesy since I have to deal with you being here. For all I know, you could be some crazy ass stalker fan who finessed my mother into believing whatever sob story you concocted to grant you a free stay?—”

“I’m not crazy or a stalker. I didn’t finesse your mother. She insisted I stay. This wasn’t my idea and you know what, it was a bad one. A terribly bad decision because you’re an asshole with no empathy for people who don’t have millions to waste on overpriced studios when I’m sure there are perfectly good ones that already exist. I mean hell, you’re ten albums in and this house is brand new. That proves you recorded somewhere other than here and produced some pretty amazing work. It’s not like you needed this but who cares, right? You got it, Mr. Asshole R&B singer. Fuck you, Ezren. Money doesn’t give you the right to assume the worst about people. I’m sure your world is full of scammers and leeches but I’m not one of them. Sometimes shit happens, okay? Shit that lands you in unfathomable positions with no one to count on and nowhere to go. Unlike you, your mother has a heart.” She shook her head in angst. “Hard to believe that she raised you.”

And after her little rant about how she was a saint and I was the devil himself, she marched right on out of the room and out of my studio, leaving me grinning at how pissed she’d gotten.

“Damn, I guess I struck a nerve.”

I tugged at my beard and replayed a few things she said. Shit happens. No one to count on and nowhere to go . That partially explained why she was here. Kori was homeless, but the real question was why.

She also wasn’t crazy or a stalking fan and she wasn’t here attempting to swindle me out of a few dollars by offering pussy in exchange for a come up. Sure, she was attracted to me, but she was attracted to Ezren , not Eccentric. A refreshing twist on things and a reality I hadn’t experienced in a really long time.

Mostly because I wasn’t remotely interested in a woman wanting anything from me other than a few good orgasms. Women were my muses. Sex inspired the songs I wrote. I slept with enough to stay inspired. Not that any of them seemed to mind. Occasionally a few caught feelings, even after my one and done policy, which I strictly kept in place for the sole purpose of avoiding that annoying little issue…

Women assuming sex would lead to more.

I had only broken that rule once and seriously regretted doing so.

The inspiration I received was more profound the more sex and women I explored. The experiences were all different—some satisfying, others not so much—but either way, the lyrics always came to me once I had my fill.

Why on earth I was tempted to entertain Kori was beyond me. But I was tempted and my gut was telling me she wasn’t an opportunist. One thing my mother taught me was to trust my instincts, same as she trusted hers. Kori being here meant my mother saw or felt something that seemed right with her. I hated to admit I did too.

Against my better judgment I decided I needed real answers and hopefully those answers would be delivered over a perfectly grilled steak and a side of garlic mashed potatoes.