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My heart fills with hope. “Is there still an us? You left the bar with someone the other night. I thought maybe you’d moved on.”
“Nothing happened with her.” He weaves his fingers with mine and looks down. We’re both quiet for a long moment. “How could anything happen with anyone else when I’m in love with you?”
My eyes jump to his. “You are?”
“I am.”
Time stands still all around us. “I love you, too.”
That slow, lazy, dimpled smile breaks through the last barrier of my heart. “You gave me my first screaming orgasm, I’m going to give you your last.”
“Is that so?” I grin.
He stands and scoops me up off the couch. “We’re never hiding again. And this time, there’ll be no hand covering your mouth—I want to hear you moan my name while I lick every inch of you.” He kicks open the door to my bedroom with his foot.
Setting me down on the center of the bed, he stares with a look that I can only describe as ardor. His voice is so soft, so heartfelt, so pure when he speaks again, I almost liquefy.
One step at a time, back behind the line
We can’t stop it, no, doesn’t matter we try
Walk to the blur, yes, you’re go
Say we’re still friends, we all know that’s a lie
You doubt it’s true, but it’s too late to turn
The minute I touch you, our bodies align
You’re like fire, yet I run toward the burn
We’ve crossed the line, now you’re forever mine.
“You finished the last verse.”
He smiles. “Now do you believe me? There’s no going back once you’ve crossed into the blur.”
“I don’t want to go back. I want to go forward.”
“Me too, baby. Me too. But right now, I’m going to go up and down.”
Epilogue
Lucky
“I remember when my coffee used to be ready for me when I woke up,” I tease as Fly
He pours himself a steaming mug and refills mine before sliding in across from me. “What are you working on?”
I close the notebook I’ve been scribbling in all morning. “Nothing.”
His eyebrows arch. “Nothing, huh? Then let me see.”
“No.”
He reaches and I swat his hand away.
“Why can’t I see?”
“You’ll see. Just not now.”
He pouts.
“The pout isn’t going to work either.”
“No?”
“No.”
He grins and leans forward, as if he’s going to tell me a secret, then I feel his hand under the table slip inside the leg of my shorts. “How about this?” Truly, the man has magical fingers. And not just on the guitar and keyboard. His thumb presses into my clit and for a few seconds I succumb to my weakness—his touch. But then I realize his other hand is slowly slipping the notebook from my loosened grip.
“Not go
“Oh, it’s go
Dear lord, I’m in trouble when he pulls out the big guns—the cocky half grin and full dimples. His dexterous fingers dip below my panties and he runs two fingers up and down my center.
“Feels like it’s already working.”
I shake my head but don’t try to push his stroking fingers away. When he lifts the fingers that he just coated with my moisture to his mouth and obscenely sucks them, I’m near opening the damn notebook and reading him what I was working on. Luckily, he’s quickly forgotten the notebook, too.
“Spread your legs wider.” He leans across the table so our mouths are lined up, but he doesn’t kiss me.
Fortunately, I hesitate, because otherwise Nolan would have caught Fly
“Mornin’,” Nolan grunts.
“How many times do I have to tell you, put some fucking pants on before you come out here?”
He looks down, confused. “I do have pants on.”
“No. That’s underwear. And you’re sporting morning wood.”
Nolan scratches his head and looks down again. I turn my head, but only after getting an eyeful. “Oh. Sorry, man. I’m just grabbing some juice.”
I take the opportunity to pack away my notebook and laptop, hoping out of sight is out of mind.
“We’ll be there in about an hour,” Fly
“Fine. But I’m not putting pants on in my place. You get to make the rules on the tour bus, I get to make ‘em in Chez Nolan.”
Fly
“It’s tradition. The groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding.”
“Since when are we following tradition? I proposed in front of fifteen thousand people, and that little peanut growing in your belly isn’t because you’re a virgin.”
I crinkle the napkin on the table and throw it at his nose. Fly
Not long after, the reason everything had happened came to light. Apparently, the old adage that there’s no such thing as bad publicity is true. In Like Fly
Billboard just posted its predictions for the top-grossing tours of the year. In Like Fly
Three months ago, Fly
I’m still not ready to sing on stage in front of a large audience. But I’ve made progress. Fly