Read Down to My Soul (Soul Series Book 2) for Free Online

problem. And to say it aloud sounds dickish, so I’ll just say it to myself. Marlon’s Uncle Jamal put it best. I think he’s the one who got my best friend categorizing pussy in the first place. Uncle Jamal is the OG. Compton’s original arbiter of pussy. He said most girls think they have that magic pussy, but one day you meet that one girl who makes you realize just how basic everyone else has been. And that’s Kai. And it wasn’t even the pussy. It was a look. It was her laugh. It was the way she smells. The way she carries herself. The way she cares about people . . . about me. The way she works hard and expects only what she earns. It’s a dozen things about her that make her not basic. She was Taj Mahal before I even slept with her. I knew she wasn’t basic. I knew she would shatter my world and I’d never be the same. And that’s what happened. And maybe I fucked it up, but I’m gonna fix it.
    And there’s no way I’m explaining that I slipped and fell into some basic pussy while she was on tour.
    So how do you tell one of your best friends she’s just basic?
    Jimmi looks up from the piano, elbows resting on the closed top, and holds a sheet of music up in the air.
    “Found my song.” She glances away, chewing at her bottom lip, wet hair hanging around her shoulders and dampening her t-shirt. “Look about what happened up there, I—”
    “Let’s just forget it, okay?” I grab the paper from her hands, giving it a quick once over. “Yeah, this is it. Let’s go.”
    “I don’t want to forget it.” Jimmi plants her hands on the piano, meeting my eyes boldly. “I’ve told you that before. That night happened, and we can’t pretend it didn’t.”
    “I didn’t say pretend.” I sit down on the piano bench, bracing myself for the conversation I was hoping to get out of one more time. “I said forget. There’s nothing there, Jimmi.”
    “Your dick was hard.” Her smile holds some satisfaction. “I know when a guy wants me.”
    “That’s right, I’m a guy.” I nod, a self-deprecating laugh escaping. “A swift wind gets me hard. It doesn’t mean anything. My heart’s nowhere near it.”
    “Oh, and where is your heart?” She reaches in her jeans pocket and pulls out a small harmonica that she’s got no right touching. “Here?”
    I stand, snatching the harmonica out of her hands, gripping it between my fingers.
    “Keep your hands off my shit, Jim.”
    “I read the inscription. I know it’s from Kai.”
    “Oh, and she reads, too. Gold star for you.”
    I glance at the harmonica Kai gave me for Christmas, just a few months ago. It feels like an eternity. I’d never even made love to her when she gave me this, but I was certain we’d be connected deeply and forever.
    “She’s moved on, you know.” Jimmi takes my spot on the piano bench.
    “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” I slip the harmonica into my back pocket and start walking toward the door. “If you want that studio time, come on.”
    “I take it you haven’t been on Kai’s Instagram lately, huh?” Jimmi asks from her spot behind my favorite piano.
    “Did I look like I’ve been on Instagram?” I turn back to face her. “Kai doesn’t even have it.”
    “Tell that to the quarter million people following her.”
    “A quarter million . . . a quarter million followers?” I frown and freeze in my tracks. “In two months?”
    “The world’s a big place with a lot of people. Doesn’t take long.” Jimmi rolls her eyes. “And I’m sure most of them are following her hoping she’ll post about you. Hoping she’ll post something about that disaster of a relationship you guys had.”
    She unplugs my phone and walks it over to me.
    “Check for yourself.”
    “I don’t even have it on my phone.” I shake my head. “And I really don’t care what social media has to say about Kai and me.”
    “Oh, so you don’t care that Dub is all over Kai’s Instagram?” Jimmi pulls out her