Surrender (Seaside Pictures Book 4)
Author: Van Dyken, Rachel
Date: 2020-06-23
Publisher: Van Dyken Enterprises INC

Surrender

A Seaside Pictures Novel
by Rachel Van Dyken

Copyright © 2020 RACHEL VAN DYKEN

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

SURRENDER

Copyright © 2020 RACHEL VAN DYKEN

ISBN: 978-1-946061-46-1

Cover Design by Jena Brignola

Editing by Kay Springsteen and Paula Buckendorf

Formatting & Editing by Jill Sava, Love Affair With Fiction

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Front Matter

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

Want More Seaside?

About The Author

Also By Rachel Van Dyken

CHAPTER 1

Andrew

The music hadn’t died a natural death.

Sometimes, I wondered if my own bad choices had killed it.

So, when my bandmate looked at me a second time and asked if I was losing my shit, I simply shrugged, put on my sunglasses, and leaned back against the wall.

We had five tracks to compose.

Five tracks to record.

I was supposed to write at least three of them.

I had written the word “the.”

For no other reason than it was the only word I could think of that rhymed with huh.

Not that we needed a huh anywhere in the damn lyrics.

It’s just the only word that kept rolling around in my head. Huh, look at that; everyone’s happy but you. Huh, imagine that; our album went double platinum. Huh, amazing, you have everything you could have possibly ever wanted.

Except for your best friend fully back in your life the way he used to be.

All the bridges in LA you burned during your addiction.

And the only girl capable of putting a smile on your face.

The same pregnant girl who was currently sitting in Will Sutherland’s lap, my ex-best friend, co-lead singer of Adrenaline, and pain in my ass.

He was worse than a parent.

Like the father figure I’d never wanted.

Who wouldn’t leave me the hell alone.

He hovered as if he’d had something to do with bringing me into the world, even though nine months back, he’d threatened to take me out of it.

I stared them down.

And quickly looked away when Angelica Greene’s tear-filled eyes met mine.

I was the reason she was still sad.

Me.

Because every time she spoke to me, my throat felt like it was closing up; and every time he kissed her, I wondered if things would be different if I could change the past.

My mistakes?

Roads I’d traveled?

Taken because of my misplaced jealousy.

“Drew!” Ty threw a drumstick at my face. “Seriously, we only have a few weeks down here before the second leg of the tour. You gotta have something in that notebook of yours.”

I clutched the leather cover tighter against my chest. “That’s for me, not the band.”

“Selfish ass,” Trevor mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stood and stretched then went back into the sound booth as if that was going to fix the problem. “You’ve been acting like you have a stick up your ass all day, and to think I was starting to wonder if you were the funny one again.”

“I’ve always been the funny one,” I shot back with a bit of a grin and then rolled my eyes. “I’m just exhausted. It’s not like we’re young spring chickens anymore.”

“Hey, speak for yourself.” Trevor grinned.

“You literally have ketchup on your shirt and another substance I’ve been spending the last hour trying to decipher.” I pointed out, as the rest of the guys fell into laughter. “And you…” I jabbed a finger at Ty. “…get to have twins in three months, so I’d stop laughing.”

That shut him up, and then he got this dopey grin on his face that had me so jealous I had to look away, which meant my gaze was back to Will and Angelica and the way he gently touched her stomach.

“Yeah…” Will leaned forward. “…I’ll admit my back hurts more than it feels better.”

“That’s the sex, moron,” I snapped and then realized I’d just made a sex joke about them and wanted to crawl under the piano and saw off the legs.

Will’s mouth quirked. “I think it’s that and trying to keep everyone in line while still singing next to shithead.” He smirked. “That’s you, by the way.”

“Hey, guys…” Trevor ran a hand through his hair. “…I’m around fighting kids twenty-four-seven because the joys of parenthood don’t stop when you bring them on tour with your wife, so let’s just break for today, all right?”

Braden, one of my protégés, chose that minute to walk in, an extra pep in his step since getting engaged to his former life coach. He pulled a popsicle from his mouth and then jerked his chin over at me. “Who died?”

“That’s it.” I shot to my feet. “I need a break.”

“We were on a break!” Ty felt the need to yell.

Everyone fell into laughter, me included.

“All right, Braden, you can work on some of your own tracks since I’ve got the studio, and, Drew, if you could kindly find someone to help pull those drumsticks out of your ass, that would be super-duper.”

“Roger.” I winked. “Hopefully, she’ll be hot.”

“Stay away from my mom, dick face!” Braden yelled.

We all stared, and then I laughed. I’d been pining after her ever since our first meeting, but because I didn’t want my protégé murdering me, I did the less fun and more creepy thing and ogled her when she wasn’t looking. I also tried to engage in multiple conversations that ended up with her staring at me like she couldn’t quite figure out why I was speaking. “You do realize she’s only three years older than me, right?”

“He likes them old!” Ty held up his hand for a high five; meanwhile, Braden looked as if he was ready to mow me over with the tour bus.

Trevor whispered under his breath, “I think that’s your cue to leave, bro.”

“Yup!” I grabbed my guitar, shoved it in my case, and let the door slam behind me as I made my way into the dreary, salty ocean air.

It was raining.

Had been raining for ten days straight.

Seaside, Oregon, everyone!

I used to think this was a place people went to die or retire, or maybe just really embrace their depression. Instead, it turned out to be one of my favorite places in the world, to the point where I was spending more time on the off-season with my bandmates here than I was back in LA.

They were my family, after all. Even if we were still semi-dysfunctional, and it helped that another band of friends, AD2, lived here along with Zane Andrews, a guy I toured with and was also — surprise, fucking surprise — married with one kid and another on the way.

I’d lived the high life so long, literally, that the minute I got my shit together and jumped off the train, it was like I’d missed everything that was important about your twenties — all the lessons. Instead, I’d made all the mistakes, and now that I was thirty-six, kind of felt like I had nothing to show for it except a shit ton of money, fame, and scars from my past.

So many scars. So much baggage I was sick from it.

With a sigh, I put in my earbuds, and the tracks I’d laid earlier buzzed in my ears. I just needed the right lyrics. I made my way down the boardwalk, careful not to make eye contact.

When you made eye contact, people recognized you.

And wanted pictures.

And pictures meant smiling.

And talking.

And doing all the other useless things humans did when they were impressed with what other humans did for a living and wanted to use it to brag on Instagram.

I was so over it today. I didn’t have the mental or physical energy to put on the mask and grin at someone’s expensive phone.

And feeling lonely, if I was being completely honest. All my bandmates had someone, and it wasn’t like I hadn’t tried. Hell, I’d even taken out Penelope, Ty’s wife, before she gave me a firm no, put me in the friend zone, then promised to bother me forever until I found a wife who could actually put up with me — her words.

Maybe that was why I was complete shit at writing love songs.

The only love I’d ever experienced happened to me when I was in my teens then died a slow, painful death as I numbed myself with drugs, and now that I was in my thirties and touring again, while secretly trying to do a solo album, things just felt…

Stale.

That was the word.

Stale.

Like there was a path I was supposed to take, but nothing interested me enough to want to even take a step in any direction.

I dodged a group of girls as I made my way past the aquarium. Shrieks followed by whispers and then footsteps against the cement. I picked up my speed.

I was too slow.

A tap, tap, tap hit me in the back. “Are you Drew Amhurst?”

I hung my head. I wasn’t like the rest of the guys. I didn’t do fake smile well when I was stressed, and I’d never been so stressed in my entire life.

Slowly, I turned on my heel and stared at the brave girl who’d approached. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, pitch-black hair pulled back into a sleek low ponytail, and she had giant sunglasses covering her eyes. Her skin was flawless, her lips full. Huh.

Damn it! That word!

She looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. Finally, I relaxed the breath I’d been holding and responded, “Who’s asking?”

I smirked down at her then widened my smile as her breathing quickened. Most girls didn’t know where to look: my nose ring, earrings, lip ring, multiple tattoos decorating my arms and chest, or the blinding, albeit semi-fake, smile.

I always gave them time to figure it out.

“Me.” She pointed to herself and then fidgeted with her iPhone. It had a pink case with a bunny on it. God, I’d never felt so old. “You’re my favorite — well, and my mom’s, though she would never admit it to your face. I was just wondering if I could get a picture?”

Fuck. At thirty-six, I was almost extinct, wasn’t I? Her mom? The hell!

“Did you know that every picture someone takes of me steals another part of my soul?” I said. What? It slipped! She had a bunny case! Calm your tits.

She gaped and then went completely pale.

I reached out and touched her shoulder. “I’m kidding. Relax.” Her body was warm and stiff beneath my fingers. I tilted my head at her while she nodded quickly.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just been a really hard day.”

Somehow, I doubted she knew the meaning of the word hard with her designer sunglasses, Louis Vuitton purse, and acrylic nails, but I took her for her word and held out my hand. My black fingernails looked out of place against my long-sleeved white pullover, which was a completely random thing for me to notice and a little irritating, yet again reminding me that I’d been off.

She pressed the sleek phone into my hand, and I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. Geez, she felt frail. I frowned a bit and then said, “Smile.”

I took three shots.

Her smile was hesitant. I didn’t pull away right away but felt like I should say something, I hated it when girls were insecure; hated, even more, when they starved themselves to death to try to obtain the perfect look that was nearly impossible to achieve.

“You should eat more,” I said softly. “You’ll waste away if you keep it up, beautiful.”

She stiffened even more. “You don’t know me.”

“And you don’t know me,” I fired back. “Not really. I just want you to know, from one stranger to another, you’re beautiful the way you are.”

Her other friend approached then, at least I thought it was one of her friends. She was taller, obviously older, with dark Prada sunglasses and curves that went on for days. “Thanks for doing that. It’s been a hard day with the diagnosis—”

“Mom!” the girl snapped. “Don’t.”

“Diagnosis?” I repeated, my stomach sinking. And how the hell was this person her mother? She looked about my age, maybe a year or two older. Maybe. I couldn’t even tell. She was too damn beautiful for words. Why the hell did she look so familiar anyway? I couldn’t see her eyes, but I was instantly attracted, instantly wanted more.

The girl turned away quickly. “Let’s go, Mom. Apparently, I need to eat more.”

I felt that mom-glare all the way to my toes as she jerked off her sunglasses and eyed me up and down.

I nearly choked on my tongue. “Mrs. Connors?”

Had I just lost my friggin’ mind? Was I imagining shit now? Or had I actually conjured the woman I was just thinking of? Like a crazy person, my gaze whipped to the girl and her friend and then back to Braden’s hot-as-hell mom, my mouth forming the word “what” but nothing coming out.

“She’s been in remission,” Braden’s mom said with a hollow voice. “But today the tests said it might have come back. They aren’t sure, but—”

“What can I do?” I interrupted.

“I think you’ve done enough for our family, don’t you?” She didn’t say it as an insult.

I’d basically taken her son under my wing and made him one of the most famous stars on the planet. I’d toured with him. I’d helped him after there’d been a tragic shooting at his concert. I had tried to be his rock while his mom stayed home to take care of his two younger sisters. For all my fascination with her, I’d seen her maybe five times in the few years I’d known him, but every other time, her hair had been lighter and shorter. Amazing what darker hair did and, paired with those eyes…

I was drowning.

I know she was thankful that she’d been able to stay back and not worry about work while her daughter sought treatment.

His money provided them with everything.

And yet, money didn’t fight cancer, did it?

“Shit.” I hung my head and turned toward Braden’s little sister. “I’m sorry. I wondered why you looked familiar. Amelia, right?”

The girl shrugged. “Yeah, but hey, don’t worry. There’s a reason you’re my favorite. You saved us from having to throw dear Mom here on the street to sell her body. I mean, can you imagine?

“Amelia!” Mrs. Connors’ face flushed bright red. “I would never— I mean…” She looked ready to pull out her own dark luscious brown hair. “Low blood sugar. We really should get going…”

“Hey, wait.” I grabbed Mrs. Connors’ arm. “Give me your number.”

Amelia gaped between us, jaw dropped. “Mom! He’s like super famous. Stop stalling! Use your words—”

“I have words,” her mom snapped. “I’m just— I don’t know if that’s the best idea with— We have to go.” She turned on her heel and nearly sprinted in the other direction, apparently almost forgetting about Amelia, who stayed back with a smirk on her face.

“I know how this works.” I crossed my arms at the sixteen-year-old. “I give you something. You give me your mom’s number. What will it take?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “Two backstage passes and a shout-out on your Instagram.”

“Steep.” I nodded and then held out my hand. “Deal, now give me her number.”

She let out a shriek while her mom finally realized that she’d stayed back to talk to me.

Amelia fired off the number, and I typed it into my phone with a grin.

“How old are you anyway?” Amelia just had to ask.

“Old as hell, just like your mom,” I said in a chipper voice and then, “thirty-six.”

She beamed. “Mom’s thirty-nine, though she tells everyone she’s still thirty-five.”

I glanced up at her mom, who was now holding her phone to her ear and glaring at us. “She looks like she’s in her twenties.”

“Believe me, I’m aware. Every single one of my guy friends is in love with her.”

“No doubt,” I whispered under my breath. “She dating anyone?”

“Oh, I’m sorry I can’t answer that question. You only asked for her number. Now you get to do the work, rockstar. It was lovely, by the way, doing business with you!”

“Hey, that’s extortion!” I pointed out.

She just shrugged and shoved her Pradas back up on her nose. “No, that’s good business.”

“Well, aren’t you terrifying.”

She did a mock curtsy. “Thank you.”

I shuddered. I’d dealt with enough teenage girls to last a lifetime. “Your mom’s waiting.”

“Bronte,” she corrected me. “Her name’s Bronte. Use it.”

I grinned. “Was that free?”

“Nothing in this world is free, Drew Amhurst. Nothing.” With a giggle, she was walking back toward her mom, and I was smiling like an idiot after them.

Drew Amhurst.

They always said my full name.

Always.

I wasn’t just Drew.

I was Drew Amhurst.

THE Drew Amhurst.

This was the first time in a long time I actually felt good about someone full-naming me. I waved at Amelia and watched in fascination as Bronte turned back and then jerked away.

I’d only ever interacted with her when she was at one of Braden’s concerts and hadn’t even been aware that they were in Seaside at the moment. Did they live here now? Or were they just visiting Braden? And how the hell was I supposed to dig for information from him when he’d rather bury my still-breathing body than give it to me?

I started walking slowly back toward the studio, my grin still in place. Maybe I wouldn’t leave for LA next week, after all.

Because something suddenly made me think that a little staycation was exactly what I needed.

CHAPTER 2

Bronte

I was at the beach house alone, the same beach house that Braden had owned before buying something bigger and gifting this one to me.

I needed the privacy, especially after dealing with paparazzi outside our small apartment when he first broke out — then the constant nagging from my ex. He wanted money. He just needed a little bit. He was so proud of his son.

Bullshit.

He saw a cash cow and held it against me when our own son wanted nothing to do with the father who’d abandoned him at ten.

I shoved the lasagna into the oven, even though it was just me. Braden was at his home with his new fiancée, who I adored. And Amelia wanted to stay at a friend’s house since she was stressed out about the results from the doctor. I really couldn’t blame her.

I just felt…

Alone.

Then again, that was what happened when you got pregnant at sixteen and had a fully grown man child already at thirty-nine. You get lonely. It was strange watching some of my friends marry later, only because now they were the ones with infants and toddlers. They were stressed out about daycare, breastfeeding, organic formula, and everything else under the sun, while I had a son who was out of college and ruling the world with his music, a daughter who was currently in her freshman year of college, and another daughter who was in high school.

I frowned down at my hands.

They looked frail, but I was still in my thirties — the last year of my thirties. My body didn’t feel as tight as it used to be, because it wasn’t. And everything about me just felt off.

As if I’d missed it somehow. I’d created these perfect humans, but now that it was time for me to enjoy them and enjoy the empty nest, I’d never felt so empty.

I poured myself a glass of red wine and stared at my reflection in the perfect double oven.

Dark chocolate hair with shots of red, bright green eyes, and so short in stature my own son had towered over me by the time he was twelve. I had curves that most people would kill for, which meant if I as much as breathed next to chocolate, it looked as if I’d gone into anaphylaxis.

In my mind, my face was passable, skin a pale ivory, thanks to my Irish heritage. My body was at least better than average, but my height killed any extra points I got in that arena.

Was it so much to ask for someone to just—? I didn’t even know. It wasn’t like I wanted to jump into another relationship, right?

I took another gulp of wine, just as my phone buzzed.

Probably Amelia.

It buzzed again.

And then one more time.

Seriously?

I set my goblet down on the white granite countertop and picked up my phone. The number was unknown.

Unknown: Thinking about me?

Unknown: I’m thinking about you…

Unknown: Am I your favorite too?

What the heck!

What pervert had my number?

I texted back immediately.

Me: Hey creeper, I don’t know you, and I’m pretty sure you don’t know me, so do us both a favor and lose this number.

I rolled my eyes as the bubbles appeared. They were texting back?

Unknown: I could be a girl.

Me: Girls are too intelligent to steal a random number; also, we’re a lot less desperate.

Unknown: Ouch! Would it help if I sent a selfie?

Me: Swear on your life, if you send me a dick pic, I will file a police report.

Unknown: Damn it, caught.

Who was this insane person?!

Me: Gross. Just. Leave me alone!

Unknown: See, that was the thing. You kind of inspired me today. I’m thinking we should be friends.

You know you’re desperate when a pervy stranger offers friendship, and you almost say, “Sure, yeah, that sounds good. Wanna come over, say around eight sharp? Bring popcorn!”

Me: Find other friends.

Unknown: They don’t inspire me the same way you do.

Me: Maybe they’re shitty friends? And do I even want to know what inspire means?

Unknown: I’ll send you a pic.

Me: Yeah, we’ve been over this. Don’t send me—

I stopped typing when a picture appeared of a notebook with words scribbled down. Poetry? Huh?

I deleted my original text and started over.

Me: You’re a poet?

Unknown: Sort of.

Me: So?

Unknown: Five pages, you inspired five full pages. That’s a big deal.

Me: I’ll make sure to let myself have extra dessert tonight. Bye.

Unknown: We should hang out.

Me: You are seriously creeping me out right now. I don’t know you!

Unknown: Well, I guess that was true. We did meet briefly. I was somewhat of an ass to you by not recognizing you right away and commenting on your daughter’s eating habits because I was worried she was too thin. Then again, the entire conversation is a little bit of a blank. I was focusing too hard on your hair.

Unknown: You still there? Or did I manage to take the creepiness to the ultimate level? Shit, you’re getting a restraining order, aren’t you?

With shaking hands, I texted back.

Me: Drew? Amhurst?

Unknown: Just Drew. Don’t full-name me, I beg you.

Me: HOW did you get my number? I said, no!

Unknown: Amelia deserves a friendship high five, maybe move her to the top spot in your little circle. I begged her for it, and she’s sixteen, so we made a deal. Concert tickets and an Instagram shout-out for her mom’s number. It was almost too easy…

I burst out laughing.

Me: Too easy, huh? She said you wouldn’t stop talking about your pet goldfish and the bunion on your foot!

Unknown: (Gasps) Ground her. Immediately. Bunions? I’m thirty-six! Do people really get bunions at thirty-six? Never mind, don’t tell me. I’ll have nightmares about feet, and the last thing the world needs is me rhyming bunion with Funyun in my next song.

Me: The world is not ready, Drew. Not even a little bit.

Unknown: That’s something a true friend would say…

I sighed and then realized I was smiling, smiling so hard at my phone that I probably looked insane.

Me: I’m ignoring that. Is there a reason you needed my number? Why not just ask Braden?

Unknown: Because I like living, and he’s a redhead. Do the math.

Me: He’s harmless.

Unknown: Unless you push him, and then his temper is legendary — Side note, you should have pinned a warning to his shirt when I took him that first weekend: Does not like pranks.

I laughed again.

Me: And where’s the fun in that?

Unknown: I nearly froze to death when he locked me out of my own house, all because he wanted me to say sorry in a convincing way that didn’t make him want to set my house on fire.

Me: What did you do?

Unknown: Oh, I put snakes in the toilet, classic.

Me: How old are you?

Unknown: It was a welcome prank!

Me: Wow.

Unknown: Are we already breaking up?

Me: Were we together?

Unknown: Only in my soul.

Me: …what do you really want?

The little bubbles popped up. I held my breath like an idiot waiting for him to say something like “you,” when I realized I wouldn’t even know what to do with this sort of man. He was a handful — an arrogant, rich, famous, handful.

Who also made sure my son survived fame, my heart reminded me.

But still!

He dated supermodels, literally.

Unknown: I want to come over.

Me: I don’t do one-night stands.

Unknown: Yeah, you should have let me finish. Now you’re going to be embarrassed. I was going to say I want to come over, have nice adult conversation, steal sips from the wine you’re probably already drinking, and eat whatever dinner you just put in your oven.

Me: ARE YOU SPYING ON ME?

Unknown: Do you want me to answer that truthfully or just pretend I’m not in my car outside after forcing a bandmate to pry it out of Braden where you were staying?

Me: You’re an arrogant creepy ass.

Unknown: So that’s a yes? Also, I’m not creepy. You’ve known me for five years.

He wasn’t wrong, but our paths rarely crossed! Even at the Grammy’s, he was too busy being him to even notice me. Right?

The loneliness was clearly winning out as I chewed my lower lip then finally typed back.

Me: One hour, you can stay for one hour. Keep your hands to yourself, and your rockstar swagger turned on low or completely off, got it?

Unknown: You scare me.

Me: I’m a mom.

Unknown: I’m going to just not reply what I’m thinking.

Me: What?

Unknown: If I told you, you wouldn’t let me in, and I’m about ten seconds away from knocking on your door.

I threw my phone against the cushion, sprinted toward the hall bathroom to make sure nothing was stuck on my face or in my teeth, then barely managed to take a deep breath before my doorbell rang.

What the hell am I doing!

Loneliness had driven me insane.

Hey, it could be worse, I could be on drugs. Ha.

Or hoard cats.

Or… I stared at the solid black doors and gulped.

Drew Amhurst, the Drew Amhurst, the guy who I’d obsessed over during high school, the guy whose face had been on my teenage walls more times than I could count.

Was seriously at my door.

Breathe, just breathe.

I slowly opened it up a crack and then all the way.

Damn, I should have closed it in his face.

If this was turning the swagger to low, God help all women when he had it on high.

He was in a different outfit than before, braced across the doorframe with a lazy smile on his face, his eyes honing in on mine. Earlier, he had been wearing sunglasses; now I knew why. It was almost impossible to look away from the depths of the blue.

“Bronte.” His voice was hoarse as he leaned down and whispered next to my neck. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“I think that’s what the devil says before asking for your soul.” I fired the thought back, and then realized I’d actually said it out loud.

His chuckle was warm; it wrapped around me and squeezed tight. “I’m going to just ignore that, within five seconds of agreeing to friendship, you compared me to the devil.”

And just like that, Drew Amhurst stepped across the threshold, and into my world.

CHAPTER 3

Andrew

My first thought: Braden’s going to lose his shit.

My second: But it’s okay. We’ll send him away somewhere after I kiss up and down his mom’s glorious body. I may even take a selfie by her perfect hips and rest my cheek against her ass. Shh, don’t tell.

My third: He’s not too old for military school, right?

“You’re staring.” Her green eyes flicked to mine, her pink tongue snuck out and licked her bottom lip before her teeth held it captive for one-point-two seconds. I clenched my tatted-up hands into fists and swayed a bit toward her.

“Did you expect an apology?” I finally rasped.

Her eyes darted from mine to my nose ring, then to my neck, where I had an eagle tattoo on the right side, and then her gaze traveled south. I was wearing a loose black tank, so she was getting an eyeful of tattoos.

I tried not to preen when she continued to check me out, down my lean arms until her eyes rested on my right wrist.

I was wearing a white bandana around it, along with three leather bracelets on my right hand, and my always present red bracelet on my left hand that reminded me of all my sins and faults.

“I like those,” she said softly, and then she seemed to shake herself out of her stupor and gulped. “Wine?”

I smiled. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“And I thought I told you to tone it down?” she grumbled under her breath.

I wasn’t sure if it was a question or a complaint. Before I could think of figuring that out, she was walking away from me.

I grinned after her as her ass swayed back and forth, almost weeping when she made it into the kitchen and reached up into the cabinet to grab another glass. I was able to see it all.

Her ass.

Her curves.

The small of her back as her cream sweater lifted just high enough for me to see her smooth white skin.

“You like red?” She was still struggling to reach the glass when I took pity on her and came to her rescue.

I could feel the heat emitting from her body as I moved behind her and reached overhead to pull the glass down.

My fingers itched to jerk her against me.

What the hell is wrong with me?

It was like my sex drive had gone into hunger-mode without an off button.

Damn, I want to take her like a savage against the fridge decorated with the mom magnets.

Every weird fantasy I’d ever had about librarians and teachers came flaring to life as she turned around and gave me a scathing look.

Probably not the time to ask her if she has a wooden spoon and knows how to use it, right?

I vaguely remembered that she’d asked for my wine preference, so I quickly handed her the glass and tried to gather myself before I gathered her and didn’t let go. “Red is good.”

“Good, because I don’t have white.” She grinned and started pouring quite heavily into a wine glass.

“That’s good.” I chuckled. “We don’t want me getting drunk. Not sure I can turn it off then, and I try to stay away from too much alcohol.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks bloomed red.

“Hey.” I reached out, then dropped my hand. “It’s fine. I just like to be careful. All the guys do. It’s our thing. We weren’t the best in our teens or early twenties, so wine and cider are basically the only things we drink. Anything harder than that, and we suddenly remember how fucking nice it is to do a line of cocaine and pretend we’re Superman.”

She choked on her sip.

I winced. “Sorry, too far? Also, know that Braden is in good hands. Plus, you raised him right. You don’t have to worry about—”

She waved me off, her face pale. “Subject change?”

“What? You don’t like talking about drugs?” I teased. “Should we go over safe sex next? I could do the good ol’ birds-and-bees talk, especially since I never got it. Bronte, where do babies come from?”

Laughter burst from her mouth, and she shook her head as if she wasn’t sure if she wanted to point me toward the door or ask me to sit on the couch. “Wow, I can’t decide if I hate you, or if I find you charming.”

Her head tilted a bit, and her smile was wide. Even her teeth were pretty, all white and straight against glossy lips. Her cheeks were flushed and looking almost biteable next to her reddish-brown hair.

“Charming.” I clinked my glass against hers. “I’m fucking adorable.”

Her eyes widened a bit before she cleared her throat and looked away. “Yeah, I wouldn’t say adorable. I reserve that for kittens, children, and stuffed animals.”

“Wow, and here I thought I was selling it so well,” I teased, leaning my body against the countertop, trying to put distance between us, so she felt like I wasn’t there to maul her by the oven.

“Uh-huh.” She opened her mouth to say something — possibly confess her undying love — when the timer went off on the oven. “Shoot!”

I moved out of her way as she scurried around the kitchen, grabbed her oven mitts, and pulled open the door.

The smell of food — good food. Not tour food, but food that was homemade — filled the air. I couldn’t suppress the groan that emitted from my mouth if I tried.

“Oh God, please tell me that’s some sort of pasta.” I licked my lips, then set my wineglass down and stared at the pan of bubbling cheese as she placed it on the countertop. “I may orgasm. You’ve been warned.”

She dropped the spoon she was using directly into the food then glared at me. “Your fault.”

I held up my hands. “You take away points for honesty?”

“Yes.” She glared harder. “No.” A huff and then “Should have never let you in the door.”

“Ha, if I were you, I’d be more worried about how the hell you’re going to try to get me out.” I winked at her sharp intake of breath. “Don’t worry. I know, I know… you want me to set the table. I’ll grab the plates.”

And just like that, I set us up on the breakfast bar with plates, napkins, cutlery, and then moved her goblet near her plate all while she watched me, possibly frozen in shock that I was house-trained.

“I’m not an animal, you know,” I said once I pulled out her barstool. “I have manners. I just like seeing you blush.”

She gulped and then looked guiltily away before sitting down on the stool. “I know. Sorry, I just…” Her shoulders slumped a bit. “It’s been a while since I’ve had dinner with someone, or with anyone of the male variety. Amelia’s with her friends a lot, and even when she’s home, we’re usually binge-watching something or sitting on the couch…”

“Hmm…” I grabbed a napkin and folded it out on her lap then tilted her chin up with my fingertip. “Food should be savored. Life will always come at you fast, but you won’t ever regret sitting down and letting your body rest while your mind goes over the things you did that day and take a minute to thank God you’re alive. Just sit. Food should be experienced, and it’s my preference that it’s experienced with someone you mildly tolerate.”

“You think I mildly tolerate you?” Her eyes darted to my mouth.

She was like Eve holding out a juicy apple, and I was like Adam, telling myself that one bite was completely harmless.

I’m not gorging myself on her fruit, so it’s fine, right?

I leaned down, brushing my thumb her parting lips.

The sound of the door opening jolted me back.

“MOM!”

Her eyes went from lust to panic in one second.

The worst part was, I was still planning on getting that kiss. I’d just tie Braden to a chair and put him outside for a while. It was warm; he’d be fine. I might even throw him a scrap.

Don’t let it ever be said I wasn’t generous. He was lucky he was still breathing.

He skipped into the kitchen with Piper, his fiancée, in tow and stuttered to a stop. His eyes flashed to the two plates, the wine, and I could see him noting the proximity between his mom and me — doing the hard math and all that.

Piper peeked around him and grinned. “Are we interrupting?”

“No!” Bronte nearly took out my eardrums with her response. “We were just… talking… shop.”

I choked on a laugh. “Yeah, shop. You know, code word for—”

She smacked me hard enough for two of my abs to slam against my ribs and back again.

“So…” Bronte shoved me away, while I tried not to feel a bit defeated that all it had taken was her son, my friggin’ protégé, to change the entire tone of the night. “…are you guys hungry?”

I wanted to grab the lasagna, bark “mine,” and then sneeze on it, so they didn’t stay.

Instead, I waited to see what Braden would do.

His eyes narrowed as he ran his hands through his dark red hair. “I’m watching you.”

“This is me terrified,” I said in a bored tone then added a yawn for good effect.

Piper snickered behind him and eyed Bronte then me. “So how did this little… situation happen?”

“God,” I snapped. “Ordained by God.”

Bronte shot me a stern look that made me feel more excited than threatened and moved our plates to the larger table, adding two more for our unwelcome guests.

When we sat down, I opened my mouth to say, “Shall we bless the meal?”

But I was beat when Piper and Bronte started going on and on about Pinterest.

I eyed my fork at about the same time Braden eyed his knife. Our minds were one as we both, no doubt, wondered how much physical pain would take us away from the conversation about boards, pins, and — gasp — DIY.

“You better not be hitting on my mom,” Braden said under his breath and unnoticed by the girls since they were in their own little world.

I took a huge bite of lasagna and chewed, then grinned. “I would never strike a woman.”

He gritted his teeth. “Drew, I’m serious! She’s my mom, and she’s… sensitive.”

I scowled. “So, what does that make me?”

“A damn caveman!” he hissed.

“Braden!” Bronte smacked him on the back of the head. “Language!” She turned back to Piper and kept talking.

I snickered behind my wineglass. “That’s another dollar for the swear jar… son.”

“I’m killing you…” His eyes narrowed. “…if you touch her.”

I took another big bite. “Define… touch.” Damn, this lasagna is good. “Do you mean like this…” I reached over and trailed a fingertip down her arm.

Goosebumps erupted before she pulled her arm away and set it in her lap. Bummer.

Braden smiled as if he’d just won the war.

He had no clue I would fight until the bitter end.

I was Italian, after all.

And that was my lasagna, damn it!

“Anyway, Braden’s convinced we shouldn’t go, but I think it would be really fun, and we’re going to be going on tour again soon, so…”

“I think it’s a great idea.” Bronte smiled over at us.

Braden and I exchanged panicked what did we miss looks.

“Don’t you, Braden?” prodded Bronte.

“Err…” His eyes widened at me, searching, begging for help.

I grinned and drank another gulp of wine instead.

Not today, son, not today.

“Yes?” His uncertainty colored his response more like a question.

“Thank you!” Piper jumped to her feet and ran around the table to kiss him.

Hell, maybe he did answer right.

“I know you hate road trips, but I’ve really been wanting to go down the Oregon coast, and it’s so nice this week! Plus, we aren’t going to get to do a honeymoon since we’ll be on tour.”

He kissed her back and sighed. “Fine, but we aren’t renting one of those homes on wheels.”

“Motorhome, sport, motorhome,” I piped in.

“Call me sport one more time,” Braden snapped.

I was about to when Bronte kicked my chair. “What?” I mouthed.

“You sure you’re okay, Mom?” Braden looked sad and then determined. “I mean, it’s the week of your anniversary and your birthday. I’ve always done something special for you, so you remember who the man of the house is. And I know on top of all that you’re dealing with Amelia’s upcoming appointment.”

His eyes locked on mine in warning before he looked back at her.

Guilt slammed me in the chest. Message received. Don’t mess with her if you aren’t going to stay.

It wasn’t like I had a stellar reputation with women, according to anyone in the world, but how was it my fault they liked to show up naked and uninvited on my tour bus?

“Braden…” Bronte stood then bent over and kissed his head. “…I’ll be fine, sweetheart. Plus, I’m in a gorgeous house, and my kids are in the same place. I’m good.”

“I don’t like it,” he grumbled.

“You guys need to do some sort of honeymoon, and the weather’s perfect. Just go with Piper and stop worrying about your old mom.”

Piper laughed. “Oh my gosh, Bronte, you’re not old! You could be my sister!”

That was true.

She was so stunning my eyes hurt. God, I suddenly wanted to be the lasagna.

Imagine how many times her hands had touched the noodles.

Wait, just kidding.

Noodles are not sexy.

And they’re limp.

Nope, no noodles.

I was a nail.

A hard as hell nail.

And she was the hammer and—

“Drew?” Piper waved in front of my face. “You in or what?”

Ah shit. I had no clue what they were talking about, but Braden looked ready to murder me, so I assumed he didn’t want me in anything. “Sure, why not?”

“Great!” Piper clapped her hands. “It’s the best plan anyway! We all know Drew doesn’t have a house here and hates the hotels and refuses to stay with anyone because he hates charity. He can stay in the guesthouse make sure your mom takes care of herself. He can keep working on the album without having to go back to LA on Friday.” She smiled at Braden. “Then you won’t feel guilty about her being alone with Amelia—” then focused that smile on me “—and you won’t feel guilty about missing all that studio time, right?”

I grinned. “Piper, have I ever told you how much I adore you as a human being and a strong, wise feminine force of nature?”

She just rolled her eyes, then clinked her glass with mine and whispered under her breath while Braden and his mom argued about strange men being in her house. “You owe me.”

“Duly noted.” I winked. “Duly noted.”

CHAPTER 4

Bronte

I didn’t sleep that night.

I wasn’t even sure I closed my eyes since my alarm went off at eight. I was still staring up at the ceiling, wondering how I was going to survive Drew living in the guesthouse a few feet from my bedroom door — because in a moment of clarity, Braden had decided to have the quarters built off the side of the master next to the pool.

I gulped and threw the covers over the bed. I could handle this. I was an adult. A mom! I had raised three children, I birthed them, and I’d done that on my own without my ex’s help.

So, having a sexy as hell rockstar with no censor drinking coffee shirtless next to the pool this week?

Fine. I was going to handle it and be totally fine.

I hated how much my own son knew me. Birthday week had always been our week, and a part of my heart had crumbled when Piper said it was the only time they could go.

But it wasn’t about me. It was about them, their new life together. God, the love they had for each other was so tangible I wanted to weep every time I saw them holding hands.

It was beautiful.

And it reminded me that it was something I’d never had with another human. The sort of love that you read about or watched in movies. I’d been a one-night stand to the captain of the football team, and when I’d turned up pregnant from that night, his strict Catholic parents made him marry me.

I hadn’t found that out until the divorce, when he said he’d been forced and that he had never truly loved me.

It had been like a knife to my heart.

And then he’d twisted it even more by naming all the girls he’d slept with who I’d once called friends — all during our marriage when I was alone at night with three kids.

I was sure they’d either laughed behind my back or felt pity every single time we’d all met as a group and done dinners.

I blew out a shaky breath and went into the bathroom to get ready. Drew said he’d bring breakfast while he moved some of his stuff in. I still wasn’t understanding how he was going to help me during a week when I was reminded on a daily basis how alone I’d become.

He was the exact opposite of the sort of person I needed to be relying on. Because — just like my ex — he would leave.

And, just like my ex, I was pretty sure Drew didn’t understand the word celibate, and even if he did, he probably threw salt over his shoulder every time someone uttered it out loud.

I quickly brushed my teeth and lost a losing battle with my makeup. I didn’t want to look as if I’d gotten ready for him, but I also didn’t want him to see the dark circles under my eyes or comment on my many freckles, so I laid on a bit of foundation, some mascara, added some gloss, then put my hair in a quick braid.

My expression stared back at me in the mirror; I looked terrified and pale.

Fantastic.

I pulled on a pair of black leggings and a loose white Nike sweatshirt and was just putting on a pair of running shoes when the doorbell rang.

My heart galloped around in my chest like a stallion as I slowly walked to the door and, with a deep breath, pulled it open and prayed he wasn’t his usual rockstar, impossible-not-to-like self.

Drew had a black Yankees hat on with low slung jeans, which molded to his body and had rips in all the right places, and he was wearing another loose tank, this time gray, that showed his tattoos and, of course, was big enough that if he moved you could see inside.

Nipple piercings.

Because, why not?

I quickly looked away.

“Coffee.” He waltzed right into my kitchen and held out a coffee carrier; there were four medium-sized cups.

I frowned. “Are we having company?”

“Nope, you get me all to yourself today.” He winked. “What was that? Did you just sigh cheerfully and almost swoon?”

I glared then took my coffee. “Why four cups?”

He shrugged. “I’m extra, why else?”

“Now that I believe,” I grumbled, then yawned behind my hand. “Sorry, didn’t sleep well.”

He tilted his head; his blue eyes seemed to stare right through to my soul. “Why don’t you go lie back down? I can manage the few bags I have. It’s not like I’m moving in.”

“Ha!” I nearly choked on my tongue. “No, you aren’t, so don’t get any ideas. I don’t do roommates.”

“Where’s Amelia?” he asked, changing the subject.

I smiled; my daughter was always a safe topic. “She’s sleeping over at a friend’s. She texted last night and is coming back around noon before heading to the beach.”

“You give her a lot of freedom,” he said it in a way that didn’t come across as judgmental, more thoughtful than anything.

I glanced at the other bag in his hand that was starting to smell like sausage and bacon. “What’s that?”

“Ah, this.” He held out the bag. “I went to Pigs in the Blanket and got us breakfast to go. I wasn’t sure what you wanted and figured if I texted you again, you’d probably follow through on that restraining order, so I got you protein and enough carbs to make sure we don’t lose that amazing ass of yours.”

Fire flared across my cheeks. “Thanks?”

“I’m here to help.” He winked and began taking out enough food to feed an army. And just like last night, he set the table as if we were having a date, as if this wasn’t casual, as if he really wanted to sit down and chat when we could have easily stood next to the breakfast bar, eaten for fifteen minutes then gone our separate ways.

Then again, he had said last night that he’d bring breakfast, and then we’d talk. Whatever that meant.

“So…” I took another sip of the black coffee. “…what did you want to talk about?”

“Us.” He grinned.

At least I was getting used to his constant sarcasm and verbal sparring; I ignored the way his smile made my insides stir with heat and grabbed a fork. “Ah, there is no us, but do continue. I like a good fiction.”

“Ha!” He pointed his fork at me. “So, while I appreciate you letting me stay here while the band records — for free — I decided I want to help out around here.”

I stared him down and then started laughing so hard that I had tears running down my face. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! That was just not what I expected you to say! And it’s not exactly as if the house is falling apart at the seams.”

His eyes flashed. “Who the hell said anything about the house?”

I gulped. “Wh-what?”

He reached out and grabbed my chair then scooted it so close to him that his legs were nearly straddling me. I trembled a bit as he watched me closely and then confessed, “I talked with Braden last night after we all left, for at least three hours. I’ve known him for a few years — we’ve always been close — and I know the shit card you were dealt. I asked him what you needed the most, and you know what he said?”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” I said, a slight shake to my voice. “Friendship?”

Drew’s grin was lethal. “Something like that…”

“Drew—”

“God, I love it when you say my name.”

“Be serious!”

“I am.” He trailed a finger down my cheek. “He said he wishes you had one week without responsibility, one week to go wild, one week where you weren’t worried about everything. And that he has no idea how to give it to you. You have money. Trust me, I know how much I paid him on his first tour, and I don’t exactly think I’m the friendship-pact sort of guy, so Braden and I made a truce. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“Huh?”

“He’s not going to ask. He left early this morning, and he’s going to pretend we’re playing chess and going for long walks the entire time he’s gone.”

“I take it—” I sucked in a deep breath… held it… then, “—we aren’t actually going to be playing chess?”

“Not unless you’re naked, then yes, let’s play all the chess.” He smirked, dropping his hand and leaning so close I could feel the heat from his mouth. “You need a week to be free. You never got to really date, to go skinny dipping, and tell the world to go fuck itself. You never got to experience what it was like to be bad. You were too busy being good, too busy being a mom when you were just a kid yourself.”

For some reason, my eyes filled with tears. I looked away. “And what makes you think I would even consider any of this?”

“I’m here.” Drew moved until his lips were pressed flat against my neck. “Use me. Let yourself be bad, just once, and when I’m gone… you’ll at least have that.”

“You’re forgetting one thing.” I couldn’t focus with his mouth on my neck.

“What’s that?”

“I have a daughter who still lives here, and I have responsibilities, and you… you’re you! This would be crazy. You’re basically asking me to just…” I couldn’t even say it. “…you know?”

“No, I don’t know, because you just waved your hands at me like a lunatic.” He slowly stood and then peeled his shirt over his head.

I quickly looked away. “No, no, what are you doing? You can’t just strip in the kitchen!”

“Exactly what I’m talking about.” His dark chuckle was so not helping. “You’re stuck in a world of rules and obligations, and what makes you think I’m not lonely? That you don’t tempt me? It’s your anniversary week, but have you ever really had the anniversary of your dreams?”

I was quiet. All I could hear was the pounding of my own heart, and all I could think of was how petrified I was that all it would take would be seven days in Drew’s arms for him to break it.

“Is this the part—” I still wouldn’t look at him “—where you tell me not to fall in love with you?”

He barked out a laugh. “You already really like me. I’m even cocky enough to admit I’m convinced you may have even…” He stood behind me, his hands pressing down on my shoulders, and lowered his voice to seductive levels. “…fantasized me.”

I let out a little moan. Damn his hands! “I’m not admitting anything,” I said, unable to speak above a whisper.

“Good thing Braden was Team Drew last night after our talk then. He mentioned something about a poster hanging on your ceiling and a certain album you played over and over and over—”

“I get it,” I snapped.

“—and over…” He just wouldn’t stop. “…and over again, to help you get through those first few months of being a new mom.”

Was my son too old for me to ground? In a moment of weakness, I’d confessed that to Braden. Only because I’d been in such shock that Drew had been standing in our apartment kitchen as if he owned the place.

I truly hadn’t recovered from that first meeting for weeks, and then when they went on tour and made a stop in Portland, and I had backstage passes, it was like living in a fantasy.

Drew always had smiles for everyone, but when nobody was looking, all I saw was a darkness in his eyes and an ability to make everyone and everything look totally fine when you were conversing.

“What do you get out of this?” I finally found my voice.

“I thought that was clear.” He slid his hands down my arms. “You.”

“One week.” My voice shook. Was I really going to say yes?

Is a sexy rockstar basically just whoring himself out to me in my living room?

Am I really tempted?

He tugged my braid, causing my head to fall back as he slowly bent over and kissed my forehead. “Say yes.”

He continued peppering kisses across my brow.

I was consumed by the way his warm lips felt against my skin. “Y-yes, but we have to have rules.”

“I don’t like those.”

“Color me shocked,” I said sharply, risking the mood that was building.

He moved away from me and took his seat again. “All right, Bronte, give me your rules.”

It was so damn hard to focus with him watching me the way he was, as if I was the only person in existence, and made for him.

“Did they teach that in rockstar school? The ability to just melt panties right off a woman’s body?”

“Actually, they teach us that and how to unhook a bra with two fingers, and yes, you did totally say that out loud.” He grinned.

My eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t mean my panties. I mean, that is to say, that—”

He leaned forward. “May I check?”

“At least you sound polite,” I grumbled. “And no.”

His eyes blazed a slow trail from my face all the way down to my thighs. He looked so sad I almost changed my mind. What was this addiction that was Drew Amhurst?

“Later, then.”

I gulped. “No sex.”

He crossed his arms. “Define sex.”

“Um…” I frowned. “…I’m confused. What do you mean?”

“Well, there are lots of things we can do that are sexual but not penetration, so does that mean I can lick your tight—”

I clapped a hand over his mouth as if someone might hear him when it was just us. I’d never felt older or more like a mom than at that moment.

His eyebrows shot up as I slowly pulled my hand away, my face on fire. I’d never had a guy do that. It wasn’t like my ex was generous, and I was too busy raising kids.

I felt the slow burn of embarrassing tears fill my eyes and slowly blinked them back. “No penetration.”

“Deal.”

“Really?” I expected him to fight me on it.

“But…” He drummed his fingertips along the table. “…I’m allowed to take you out on dates, wine you, dine you, touch you, tease you, lick you from head to toe on a Tuesday morning just because you look so damn delicious. But if you ask me to — know, I’m in.”

“I won’t ask you.” I hoped. Prayed.

He just smiled. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” He moved my plate closer to me. “So, we’re clear — no strings attached, no falling in love, and I only get seven days.”

What? What was this falling-in-love business? He didn’t let me answer as he nudged my plate toward me. “Now, eat your breakfast and pack an overnight bag.”

“What?” I almost choked on my eggs.

“Operation Bronte Connors Gets her Groove Back starts now.”

“But… Amelia has a doctor’s appointment the day after tomorrow…”

“What time?”

“Eleven-thirty, but—”

“Plenty of time.” He winked. “Oh, and I’d hydrate. We don’t want you getting a stress headache.”

Stunned, I watched him get up and walk out the front door.

I scrambled to my feet and went to the window. He was pulling bags out of a brand-new white Audi A7 and then walking over to the guesthouse. It was locked and the key hidden on the patio, of course. Braden. Drew grabbed the key from its spot under the potted plant and let himself in along with his bags.

And I stood there and watched him, wondering what the hell I’d just agreed to.

Operation get my groove back?

Tempting.

I had just assumed that would be more of a solo trip to Italy.

Not a week-long adventure with one of the sexiest men alive who, for one reason or another, was willing to give me everything I’d never had — except love.

CHAPTER 5

Andrew

It wasn’t planned.

That was all I kept thinking when I had chatted with Braden last night and then showed up this morning at Bronte’s. It was not like I said to myself, Wow, you know what would be really great? To sex up my friend’s mom and show her how ridiculously beautiful and brave I think she is.

I originally had thought of sending her on some sort of girls’ trip.

And then I immediately got jealous thinking about all the dicks that would hit on her. Plus, have you seen that movie? No, just all the nos.

Plan B, the smarter, albeit safer plan, included a spa day.

But then I got jealous about some dick touching her naked body.

It was then that I realized that I wanted to be a part of this. That I wanted to be the man that held her hand just because he could. Kissed her like his life depended on it because maybe it did.

Braden said he’d rarely seen his mom smile when he was little, and that he’d never seen his mom and dad kiss in public.

That thought alone made me want to find the guy’s social security number, send it to my cousins in New York, and ask them to do me a favor.

I mean, if you can’t utilize your mafia connections, what’s the point, am I right?

I sighed and looked around, the guesthouse was at least twenty-two hundred square feet, with a master loft that was draped in black and whites with random pieces of greenery set on the dresser and nightstands.

It was beautiful.

Much like its owner.

Wow, I really need to rein it in.

I dropped my worn leather notebook onto the bed and reached for my guitar. I figured that Bronte was probably overwhelmed and trying to think of all the ways she could get out of our little agreement, so I was going to at least give her an hour before I grabbed our bags, tossed her over my shoulder, and put her in the car for the start of day one.

My only goal. Get her to forget.

Get her to smile.

I pressed my lips together in a firm line as something pierced my chest. It was painful, but it was constant. I was so used to the pain that if it wasn’t there, I had anxiety, because what would I worry about when I had nothing left to worry about?

Stupid, but accurate as hell.

A part of me wondered if I was doing this as some sort of penance. God knew I was attracted to her, but this was completely out of character for me. I didn’t just invite myself into people’s lives.

I’d never been this impulsive.

And it was totally possible that I was having a midlife crisis since all of my friends were married and popping out kids, but I’d never looked forward to a week more than I was right now.

So, what did that say about fame and fortune? When you’re counting the minutes until you can treat someone the way they deserve to be treated? When you can’t stop thinking about all the ways you’re going to make her orgasm using nothing but your hands, tongue, and ingenuity.

I strummed a few chords and stared down at my notebook.

There was also another reason.

The fact that after talking to her, something broke inside me, and suddenly I wanted to write. I felt inspired to write something other than the or huh.

And all it had taken was seeing her smile.

Staring obsessively at her hair.

And getting her phone number.

I wasn’t lying when I’d said she inspired me.

And now, I was wondering how the hell I’d stay inspired if I let her go.

See? Anxiety is such a bitch!

The hour passed quickly as I got lost in the music, the way it filled me, made me whole, only for that feeling to leave with the very last note.

Like always, the feeling of goodness left, and the hollowness returned, along with the feeling of nails inside my chest walls scraping to get free.

I liked to call them my demons, not that I believed I was possessed. Hell, I wasn’t into any weird shit, and I still had my Bible my grandma gave me for my fifth birthday. Nah, it wasn’t like that. It was just all the shit I’d never dealt with slowly coming to a head.

The mistakes I’d made. Lies I’d told. Life I’d lived, all in an effort to fix what couldn’t just be fixed with happy songs of love and laughter or fame, money.

With a sigh, I grabbed my overnight bag and made sure to lock the door to the guesthouse as I walked around the pool and toward the front door. As much as I wanted to go through the slider to the master, I knew that she’d probably murder me on site. So, into the front entrance, I went.

I wasn’t surprised to see Amelia on the couch watching Netflix.

“To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before.” I put a hand on my chest. “My favorite. Noah Centineo’s a god among men, am I right?”

She turned around and gave me a bright smile. She looked happier today. “I take it my mom hasn’t murdered you in the back yard yet.”

“You know, it’s almost as if I’m not famous when I talk to you. Not sure I like it.” I plopped down onto the chair and gave her a huge grin. “So, is this the part where I tell you I’m going to clean my gun if any boys show up while we’re gone tonight?”

Yes, I’m that good. I even got Amelia’s blessing after grabbing her number from Braden.

All parties were in on this.

Damn, I should get an award.

Or at least sex.

Ah, did it always come back to sex?

Of course it did because I was so damn celibate that I was actually worried my dick might fall off from lack of use.

Bronte came around the corner wearing her hair loose around her shoulders, diamond studs in her ears, lip gloss, and some high-waisted skinny jeans with a white blouse tucked in.

Then again, I never promised I was a saint.

Plus, hadn’t giving up drugs been enough?

Amelia cleared her throat.

I jerked my head away. “What? I was just appreciating your mother’s beauty.”

“Uh-huh.” She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe I should be the one cleaning guns.”

I scoffed and put a hand over my heart. “I’m genuinely wounded.”

“You’re genuinely full of it.”

“Also true.” I nodded my head. “I’m serious though, no guys. Guys are bad — all guys. They lie, they cheat, they steal—”

“Mom can hear you.”

“I’m a man, though, so I don’t count. I already sowed those oats, made all the mistakes and asked God for forgiveness. He granted it, by the way, just in case you were wondering.”

“Did He, though?” Amelia tapped her chin with her iPhone, and I grinned at the new case, yesterday was a bunny, but not today. Today it was Adrenaline, and there my face stared back at me, and for some reason, that made me feel uncomfortable.

A first.

I cleared my throat. “Did you, uh, draw a heart around Will’s face?”

Her face lit up red. “Jealous?”

“Depends. Is there an X on mine?” I laughed.

She rolled her eyes. “If you don’t treat her right, then I’ll do more than that.”

“Amelia!” Bronte scolded in that perfect mom tone that had even me jerking back and holding up my hands as if I was being arrested.

Swear, my heart even picked up speed a bit while my mouth went dry, and then I noticed the fear in Bronte’s eyes.

Was she scared of me?

Of what we could have?

Of the one-week deal to help her experience what she should have all those years ago?

“Mommmmmmm.” Amelia drew out the word. “We’re verbally sparring. He’s fine. Look at him,” She pointed at me with a helpless expression. “He’s Drew Amhurst. He’s made of solid steel.”

“Are we talking about my six-pack? Just curious,” I voiced. “Because if we are, things just got weird.”

“No.” Amelia pulled a pink scrunchie from her wrist and put her hair into a ponytail. “I mean like, you’re a celebrity. You’re used to everyone talking about you, making fun of you, worshipping you. You’d need nerves of steel to survive.”

Or a very serious cocaine addiction, I wanted to add. Instead, I just nodded my head. “You’re right. I’m basically Superman, just better looking.”

“My psych teacher would have a field day with you, wouldn’t she?” Amelia smirked.

“Scouts’ honor, I should probably be institutionalized.” I turned toward Bronte. “And on that romantic note, you ready?”

She licked her lips nervously, pulling the gloss away with her tongue, making me curious about what it tasted like. “I think so? I didn’t really know where we were going, so I packed light.”

“Perfect.” I got up and grabbed both our bags. “And it’s not like we can’t buy something if we need it — and by we, I mean me.”

Her face flushed.

“Mom…” Amelia hopped up. “…real quick. The guys, Sarah, and Min are headed to the beach for a bonfire in a few. Can I go? PLEASE? Pretty pretty please?”

“Is your room clean?” I interrupted with my arms crossed, earning a glare that made me so uncomfortable I backed up and questioned my desire to father children.

Bronte sighed. “I got this, Drew.”

“What guys?” I just had to ask, earning another glare.

“Do you mind?” Amelia said through clenched teeth and closed fists.

I had to laugh at her exasperation. I liked her spirit. Bronte may have been a young mom, but she did a good job with her kids.

“Is your room clean?” she repeated with a smirk.

“Define clean?” Amelia winced and held her breath.

Bronte tilted her head down and raised her eyebrows. If she had been wearing glasses, she would have been peering over the top. She didn’t say one word.

Amelia released a blustery sigh. “Okay fine. If I clean it, can I go to the bonfire, then have Sarah and Min over tonight? I swear, no boys, plus Ryan started hooking up with Brooke, and we hate Brooke.”

I made a mental note.

We hate Brooke.

Brooke, such a typical popular girl name.

I didn’t want Amelia hanging out with any Brookes, or Britneys for that matter!

Or Ryans. I shuddered.

“Okay.” Bronte took a few steps toward Amelia and pulled her in for a hug. “Just promise you guys don’t stay up too late watching Adrenaline videos and pausing on abs.”

I choked on my laugh, earning a glare from both women, so I raised my hands in surrender and said, “No worries. I do it too.”

I mean, what else could I say?

“That’s weird.” Amelia shook her head. “All right, you two have fun. Drew, keep your hands to yourself, and Mom, try not to be such a… mom.”

Bronte glared.

“And yet the stare just gets more intense,” I muttered under my breath, earning a laugh from Amelia.

“Stay safe, sweetie, and text me, okay?” Bronte pulled her in for a quick hug and kissed her on the forehead.

Something twisted in my chest.

I frowned.

Was I jealous of a child getting a kiss? I mean, really.

It wasn’t even sexual. It was the fact that the very chaste kiss showed more emotion than several of the make-out sessions I’d had in my lifetime. It showed actual care rather than lust and a need to get off.

And I truly could count on one hand with fingers left over how many times I’d experienced that sort of kiss.

I’d always been close to my grandma before she died, but my parents? They literally only saw me as a cash cow.

Even had said that to my face when I threatened to quit the band when things got bad with Will and Angelica, which of course, meant I’d made everything worse because I was a selfish jackass.

“All right.” Bronte turned toward me. “Ready?”

“Yup.” I carried the bags to the door and was just getting ready to set them down to open it for her, but Bronte beat me to it.

Her cheeks were rosy-pink as she tugged her full bottom lip between her teeth. I caught a whiff of Dolce perfume when I walked by.

I was a man who knew perfumes, and while I’d always hated that scent on other women, it fit her perfectly.

My white Audi A7 was waiting in front of the beach house. I went to the back to toss the bags in and noticed she just let herself in the car — no waiting for me, no expectations. Why did that bother the hell out of me?

With a frown, I walked over to the passenger side and knocked on the window. She jerked in her seat and then frowned, slowly unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door. “Um, we are taking this car, right? You just put the bags in so—”

I held up my hand. “Can you do me a favor?”

She looked terrified but nodded. “Sure.”

“Can you get out of the car so I can do this right?”

“Do what right?”

“This.” I shrugged. “All of this.”

Another clueless look.

Adorable.

I leaned in and confessed. “I want to open your door, Bronte.”

“Oh!” She stared at me in disbelief. “Oh, oh, right.” She hopped out of the car and stood by my side as I shut the door again, waited a few seconds for effect, and then opened the door for her.

With a silly grin, she started to get in then turned. “You know, I’m not one of those women, right?”

“One of those women…” I repeated. “Not really tracking?”

“You know.” She shrugged. “I’m not needy. You don’t have to open my car door for me — or any door for that matter. I didn’t even think twice about it.”

I cursed under my breath. “Well, that’s a damn shame, isn’t it? That you didn’t even think twice about a man being a man or being a gentleman. It has everything to do with me wanting to treat you nicely. I know you can open your own door. I’m one-hundred-percent aware that women are equal and often times smarter than men if we’re being honest, but the real shame here is that it appears to me like you’ve never had a man who went the extra mile and treated you with the respect and care you deserve. So, Bronte, I’m going to open your door. I’m going to open a lot of fucking doors because that’s the sort of treatment a queen deserves. Got it?”

She was completely still and then a slow nod of her head.

“Good.” I lifted her chin toward me, so tempted to kiss those plump lips. I dropped my hand before temptation gave in to surrender and slowly closed her car door, counting my steps to the driver’s side, waiting for my lust to cool and my anger to abate, because what the hell?

She was quiet when we got on the road toward the main route out of town. That brought us right by the boardwalk, and it was already getting dark, which meant lots of kids were out getting ready for bonfires.

She let out a sigh and then pointed. “I’d always wondered what all the fuss was about. I mean, it’s a campfire, but it looks fun. I just never got the chance to do it.”

I nearly slammed on my brakes.

Instead, I pulled over and put the car in park. “You’ve never done a campout?”

“No?” She scrunched up her nose. “I mean, my friends in school did, but I was pregnant by then and responsibilities and…” Her voice trailed off.

“If you had the chance to stay at a ritzy hotel and go to the spa versus a chance to do a fun campout with junk food, a sexy rockstar, and nothing but the stars, ocean, and said rockstar’s guitar, what would you pick?” I gave a nonchalant shrug. “Asking for a friend…”

Her lips pressed together in a smile, and then she laughed to herself. “Ah, do I know this friend?”

“He’s devastatingly handsome.”

“And talented?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Huh, doesn’t ring a bell.”

I smirked. “Pity.”

“Isn’t it, though?”

“Answer the question, Bronte,” I urged softly.

She squirmed a bit in her seat then stared at the beach. “I’d probably want the campout, especially since this rockstar’s so talented and hot. Maybe he’ll show up.”

“He just might.” I wasn’t even mad that I was about to cancel my plans, but that did mean I needed to improvise. Thankfully, I always kept a blanket in the back, and all the stores on the boardwalk carried everything I needed for the perfect bonfire. “All right, change of plans. We need to go shopping first, and then we get to take turns digging a small hole for the fire.”

“Wait, why do we have to take turns?” She laughed.

“Do you see these hands?” I held out my hands to her. “Insured for ten million.”

She gasped. “What!? That’s insane!”

“I know. I lied. I just wanted to see your face.” Laughter erupted from deep in my chest, and it felt so insanely good to just let go. “And the real reason we both take turns— you know, other than teaching you teamwork—”

She snorted.

“—is because a little workout before a campout helps get your blood flowing.”

Her green eyes narrowed. “And I need that, why?”

I let my eyes rake her over before answering. “You’ll see. Hurry up! We’ve got places to be!”

Her giggle made my night as we walked toward the closest store, and when I grabbed her hand…

She squeezed mine right back.

And didn’t let go.

CHAPTER 6

Bronte

His personality was so dang addicting that it was hard to even have a normal conversation without my heart beating out of my chest or laughter bubbling out of my mouth.

“All right, let’s split up!” He turned me toward the food aisles and handed me a basket. “Go grab the chocolate, grahams, marshmallows, and any other food you want, and Bronte?”

I looked into his blue eyes.

“I like to eat.”

A shiver ran down my spine. Why did that feel like a double entendre?

“Tell me your favorites, and I’ll grab them.” My voice cracked. Great, he can read me like a book, can’t he?

The corners of his luscious mouth lifted into a smile. Damn, this man was breathtakingly beautiful, like a fallen angel with too much charisma and the inability to stop talking for more than three seconds. “You on the menu?”

“Cute, but no.” I waited for any more instructions.

“Well, we’re doing a campfire…” He rebounded fast. “…so why don’t you grab some hotdogs and buns, and we’ll roast those. I’ll go grab some sticks, matches, wood…” He gave my hair a playful tug. “…you know, man things.”

I rolled my eyes. “All right, tough guy, meet back here in ten?”

“Done.” He was already turning around, ready to go do some “man” hunting.

I would never admit it out loud, but I needed that little respite to just breathe and try to focus on something other than all the things that encompassed Drew.

He was magnetic in a way that was hard to even explain, and yet, certain times, he seemed to almost go to another place, only to come back with something quick-witted — a joke, or a flirtatious smile. I’d noticed it the few times I’d interacted with him, but now that I’d had more time with him, I really saw it.

He did a good job hiding it from the world.

And part of me wished he wouldn’t hide it from me.

I didn’t need his words, his flirtations. I would take his silence any day, I would take him just existing, not performing or trying to impress, not that he was trying to do that with me, but just at times when he felt terrified that if he stopped…

Everything would crash.

I shook my head and went over to the bread, grabbed a package of hotdog buns, then went down the next aisle to grab supplies for s’mores.

I figured we only needed one package of hot dogs and decided just to get ketchup, mustard, and relish.

By the time I was finished tossing in a few random items, Drew was already back at our spot on his phone.

I was about to tap him on the shoulder when I saw his shoulders tense. “I don’t care what you need,” he hissed. “I’m busy writing the album. I don’t have time to come back to LA, and even if I did, why the hell would I come back for you?”

I flinched. I’d never heard him talk like that before.

“Look, Skye…” He hung his head. “…can we not right now? I’m in the middle of something, and talking to you always makes me remember all the reasons I left LA in the first place.”

Dread settled in my stomach, and then I told myself not to be stupid. Did I really think he was going to just woo me for a week and stay? Offer to be Braden, Sarah, and Amelia’s stepdad? I almost laughed aloud. Yeah, that wasn’t happening. He promised fun, he promised kissing, he promised he’d help me get my groove back, whatever that meant.

He never promised himself.

Or his heart.

And in that moment, I swore to myself I wouldn’t fall. I wouldn’t be the starry-eyed teenager who had fallen head-over-heels for my ex at fifteen and said yes to unprotected sex because it “felt” better to him.

Stupid, so stupid. I wouldn’t ever be stupid again, and I knew my heart wouldn’t handle being broken by someone like Drew, someone who so easily could steal it away when I was least expecting it.

Besides, I had Amelia to think about — worry about We had results that could mean more chemo or freedom, depending on which way they swayed. I didn’t have the emotional energy to waste on Drew. I didn’t have space in my head, let alone my heart.

So why did it still make me physically flinch?

“Later.” He hung up the phone, did a little circle, and then eyed me, his smile slow, a bit tentative. “You ready?”

“Yup.” I forced a bright smile and lifted my heavy basket. “Things okay?”

He cursed under his breath and took my load, his eyebrows furrowed together, giving him a heavy look that had me stressed out on his behalf.

“Yeah, let’s just say LA is the absolute worst, the people are fake, and any sort of unnecessary contact puts me in a bad mood. Not your fault. It’s my baggage.”

“Baggage?” I asked as we both started putting our supplies on the belt.

He reached inside the basket, froze, and then slowly continued pulling things out. “That’s probably the wrong word. Not really baggage — more like my own stupid mistakes have a way of constantly haunting me, this time by way of a woman. I’ve literally had to change my number five times because of her.”

I winced. I couldn’t even imagine that level of fame, and I saw my fair share with Braden. The only reason I’d even agreed to let him take that first trip to LA was because of Drew. Ugh, why did it always come back to Drew? “That bad?”

He let out a heavy sigh that I felt in my soul. “That bad.”

“Sorry.” I don’t know why it, but I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed, and it was like all the tension that was in his body just dissipated.

It was what I did when Amelia was worried.

It was what I’d done for years when Braden doubted himself.

It was my go-to, to imagine myself pulling all that sadness and anger into my soul and letting my heart hurt, so the person I love doesn’t.

Not that I loved Drew.

He locked eyes with me. “Thanks.”

“Any time.” I almost did the most idiotic thing and said, “That’s what moms are for!”

Kill me now. I looked down to keep from showing my embarrassment and laughed when I saw half the store’s goods on the belt, thankful for the distraction. “Um, do we really need all of this?”

He’d grabbed a tent, a blanket, sticks, firewood, fire starter, matches — the list went on and on as if he’d either never done a campout or was afraid that we would somehow do it wrong.

“Absolutely.” He flashed a toothy grin, and before I knew what was happening, he was sliding a black AmEx card through the machine, and I was helping him carry the bags back to the car.

“This is a lot for just one campout,” I teased.

“Just one campout?” he repeated. “What if I want more than one?”

“We may just have to have more than one with all this stuff.” I laughed.

“Exactly.” He winked, sending my stomach flutter into overdrive. “I think we can actually keep the car parked here, so why don’t you hand me some of those bags, and pick a spot on the beach.”

I turned toward the huge shoreline that was Seaside, Oregon, with its crystal white sand and blue ocean. It was absolutely gorgeous outside, not raining, which was a miracle, and there were only a few campfires dotted around the two-mile coast.

Giddiness built up inside as I kicked off my flat sandals, tucked them in my tote, and started hiking through the deep, still-warm sand.

Typically, Amelia and her friends stayed closer to where the beach house was, so I decided to walk in the opposite direction, away from the huge swing set in front of the aquarium and near one of the larger of the bluffs.

I stopped on the other side since I knew the wind picked up later. This would, at least, offer us some protection when it did.

“Ah, she picks the best spot on the beach. I’m impressed.” Drew’s deep voice sounded behind me as he set everything on the sand and then went to work digging through one of the first bags, only to come back with a can of wine. “Shhh.” His smile was dangerous. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

I laughed and held out my hands to catch it. “Really? Wine in a can?”

“It’s totally a thing now. Trust me, I know all the cool trends. I’m famous like that.” He tossed it to me. “And it’s a red since someone doesn’t like white.”

I caught it midair. “What about you?”

“Me? Oh, I have some impromptu date prepping to do, so let me make you a spot where you can watch me work. Oh and—” He held up another finger, dug around, and then tossed me a historical romance novel and two fashion magazines.

I almost died laughing. “Seriously?”

“—just in case you get bored watching me.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” I said softly, not admitting that watching him was anything but boring, more like consuming to the point of stalking.

“I try,” he said with his back to me. “Give me around ten minutes, and I’ll have things ready to go. Don’t forget you have to help with the campfire hole.”

“How could I? When I’m looking so forward to digging.”

“Yeah, I have a lot of experience with digging myself into holes,” he said, more to himself. But then he snapped out of it and winked. “You good? Need anything else? Oh, final thing, I swear.” He pulled out a patchwork quilt that looked older than dirt and brought it over to me, wrapping it around my body tight.

It might look old, but it smelled like a mixture of fresh detergent and Drew.

I was tempted to steal it later.

Maybe sleep in it naked or just ask to be buried in it.

“I like this blanket.” I hugged it tighter around my body.

Drew’s eyes flashed with an emotion so deep that I almost apologized. “Yeah, my grandma actually made it for me when I went off to my first tour.”

My heart melted. Did he have to be so easy to like? “That had to be the best gift you were ever given.”

His face softened as his voice cracked out. “It was.”

“Are you two close?”

A sad smile was his response. “She died later that year. Cancer.”

“Oh, Drew.” My hand moved to his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well…” With a half-shrug, he pulled away and dusted the sand off his jeans. “…I try to think about the fact that she never got to see me go down all the dark roads she warned me about, so her death was a blessing. She would have done more than make me dig holes in the back yard. She would have been… disappointed.”

“You don’t know that,” I whispered. “And we all make mistakes.”

He winced. “Yeah… but some of us… don’t exactly recover from them.” He turned around. “All right, no more sad talk. I have a tent to build.”

“Ever build a tent?” I went with his change of subject.

“Of course, I was a Boy Scout!” he said defensively.

I eyed him up and down with amusement. “I can’t see it.”

“Watch and learn, baby girl, watch and learn.”

My heart pumped way too fast at the cute nickname, damn it. Why was it so impossible not to fall a little bit more each time he opened his mouth?

Weirdly enough, the should-be-spoiled rockstar moved fast. He had the cute blue tent set up in no time. I grinned when he grabbed the shovel and motioned me with his pointer finger.

I looked behind me in mock confusion. “Oh, you mean me?”

“Yes, you.” He laughed and handed me the shovel. “You start.”

“What if I do it wrong?”

“Doubt you do much of anything wrong.” His expression sobered, and I immediately wanted to list all of my sins, so he knew I wasn’t perfect. But it wouldn’t matter if I did because Drew seemed like the sort of guy who was convinced that nobody could be as bad or have as much darkness as he.

It was sad compared to me. I had stolen a candy bar once and had unprotected sex.

He’d probably laugh at the fact that I’d never once smoked pot, or smoked anything, that my only vice was bad TV and a glass of wine, or maybe two if it was a special occasion.

“I wonder,” he whispered, his intense gaze studying my face, “what goes through that head sometimes.”

We are too close.

That was what was going through my head.

The fact that I could see the specks of light blue in his eyes and smell his skin.

I quickly handed him my wine can and then gave him my back and burrowed the shovel into the sand. I dug around until I had a good circle shape and was about to turn around and give him the tool again when I felt both of his hands on my hips, pulling me back against him.

I nearly dropped the shovel in shock at feeling the heat of his body encompass mine from all sides.

He wasn’t just tall; he made me feel small in his arms. He smelled so good I wanted to cry. How was that even physically possible? Was there some secret rockstar cologne they handed out once you had millions of albums sold?

Like “Here, congratulations! You’ve finally hit Sex God status. Wear this cologne wisely!”

He rested his chin on my head as his arms slid around the front of mine, and then he slowly turned me toward the shoreline. The sun had painted the sky in streaks of purples, pinks and oranges as it slid toward the ocean. I’d never paid much attention to sunsets, but the combination of brilliant color in the sky above and intoxicating male behind was showing me what I’d been missing. His body was hot against mine.

“Thought you might want a minute after digging so hard.”

With the sun setting, it should have been growing cooler, right? But here I was, my entire body on fire. “Are you mocking my hyperfocus?” I asked, unable to keep the wobble out of my voice.

Pressed against my back, his chest rumbled with a laugh. “No, actually, you just looked so damn cute and were concentrating so hard that I felt guilty for staring at your ass and decided, rather than staring, I was going to do something about it.”

I frowned. “And what did you do?”

“I’m doing it now,” he rasped, his lips next to my left ear. “I’m holding you and watching the sunset.”

Stiffening, I swallowed hard. “Oh.”

“Don’t get tense.” He continued his assault on my senses as his lips roamed down my neck. “I just want you to enjoy yourself. No pressure. I’m not going to suddenly strip you naked against the sand and propose, all right?”

Though my emotions still churned, I exhaled.

“Plus, I mean, I left the ring at home so—”

I drove my elbow back, connecting with his stomach. He let out a grunt and then laughed again.

His teasing made me smile, but it was his warmth that had me feeling safe, as if maybe, just maybe, I could let loose a little bit and simply enjoy the wind on my face, the way his body wrapped around mine protectively — something I’d never once in my life experienced, not even when I had been married. Maybe I could enjoy the laughter around me and not constantly wonder where it all had gone wrong in my life, how I’d been brought to this moment in time — almost forty, with kids nearly grown — wishing I could have at least once experienced the sort of romantic love people wrote songs about, fought for, maybe even died for.

The sun finally disappeared below the horizon, blanketing us in dusk, and the temperature immediately dropped a few degrees.

I didn’t want to move, but I knew we needed to build a fire, so I reluctantly started pulling away only to have Drew keep me locked in place. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t finished watching.”

Huh? Confusion clouded my mind, and I shifted to get a look at him, but he held me in place. “But… the sun set already…”

“You think I was watching the sun the whole time? How adorably wrong.” His nose trailed down my neck up and down, and then his teeth nipped my ear, causing shivers to erupt all over my skin. “I was watching you watch it, and I’ve never seen anything so awe-inspiring as a gorgeous woman watching the sunset for what seems like the first time.”

My knees literally felt like they were going to turn to jelly.

How do you even respond to that?

Ask him how much longer?

Kiss him senseless?

I am in way over my head, aren’t I?

I mean, I’d barely dated my ex before our parents forced us to get married.

I gulped and kept my eyes staring straight ahead.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he murmured. “You should probably get used to it because I don’t really have a censor, especially around you, and I don’t think I should have to stop myself from telling you how beautiful you really are. Maybe one day, you’ll actually believe me.”

He slowly wrapped the blanket tighter around me then left me standing there, wondering what the hell had just happened.

The smell of fire burned my nostrils a few minutes later. I tried to compose myself as I grabbed my chair and pulled it close enough to the flames to get warmth.

Drew was busy putting hotdogs on the sticks, and had them both hovering over the fire in no time. “Good thing I’m a pro at this since I’m cooking tonight.”

“Can you cook anything else?” I wondered with a smirk.

“I can… read?” He offered with a sly grin. “So yes, I can follow a recipe, but living on the road doesn’t really give you a lot of time to learn all the secrets of a master chef. I do know I would sacrifice a goat just to have some of your lasagna.”

I nearly spewed wine out of my mouth. “A goat?”

“It was the first thing that came to mind.” He shrugged, his eyes flickering to mine over the orange blaze. “All right, you want your wiener slightly burnt or medium well?”

I hesitated for a minute. “Why do I feel like this is somehow a trick question?”

He shrugged. “Better hurry… don’t want me burning both wieners. Imagine the pain!”

I rolled my eyes. “Medium well!”

“Done!” He pulled both of the dogs back and set them each in a bun. “Ketchup, mustard, relish— Wow! I just may kiss you. Nobody remembers the relish! It’s like the red-headed stepchild of barbecues!”

I threw my hands in the air. “Thank you! I hate it when people forget!”

“It’s truly the only way to eat a wiener. Well done, little girl. I may just give you an A.”

“Imagine if I would have gotten two jars.”

He moaned. “Stop teasing me. I’m sensitive.”

I covered my face with my hands. “Stop moaning!”

He just moaned louder then added giant scoops of relish to each of our hot dogs. “Ketchup?”

“And mustard.”

“This is why we’re best friends now,” he said under his breath as he prepped mine and handed it to me. “Cheers.” We bumped our hotdogs together, and then each took a bite.

“Oh God,” I groaned and chewed. “You’re my new favorite person.”

His eyes heated across the fire as he watched me eat and then, “Yeah, I’m going to need you to repeat that. I was too busy watching you annihilate that hot dog. Damn, you can swallow… food… well.” A smirk.

I almost choked. “Um, thanks?”

He took a small bite and continued watching me eat, then just shook his head and whispered something under his breath.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Perfect,” he said through clenched teeth. “Was just having a pep-talk with my body about what we could and could not do. No worries, my dick just hates mass disappointment, so I gotta let him down nice and easy.”

This time I did choke. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Ohh… I just had to explain that this wasn’t a one-night stand where we get to count how many orgasms I can give you.” He grinned. “That’s all.”

My eyes widened. “I, uh…”

His smile fell. “You, uh, what?”

“It’s nothing!” I shoved the hotdog into my mouth until I was having trouble fitting any more of it, and then I chewed carefully while he seemed to stare me down in an effort to read my mind.

Then his eyes widened, and he jumped to his feet, nearly falling over in the sand in an effort to come and sit by me. He suddenly was right at my side just as I swallowed my last bite and stared into the fire.

“Orgasms.” He just had to repeat the word. “I mean, you’ve…” His eyes narrowed. “…at least with your ex you did… or someone you dated after… or—”

At my expression, he stopped talking. And then I just shook my head no because the truth was too embarrassing.

“Bronte…” He drew out my name like he was concerned. “When was the last time you had sex?”

Why did I suddenly feel like bursting into tears and confessing my lack of sins?

The embarrassment was so strong I wanted to grab the shovel, dig my own hole, and beg Drew to bury me.

“Bronte.” He pulled me into his arms. “It’s a safe space, remember?”

“It’s…” I tried and then wiped a stray tear that decided to make its way down my right cheek. “It’s been a while.”

“A while being… a year, two years, a decade?”

“The last time was the day before he left us when Amelia was around two.”

“Fourteen years,” he said through clenched teeth. “Fourteen?”

I winced. “Can you stop repeating it? And why is your math so fast?”

“What the hell was wrong with that asshole to even sleep with you before leaving? What did he do? Break you for all good men out there?”

I let out a humorless laugh. “What do you think?”

“I guess there’s only one thing left for you to do then,” he said softly.

I glanced up at him. “What?”

“Ask me.”

“Ask you what?”

He grabbed one of my hands, interlaced our fingers together, leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered, “Ask me to fuck you.”

CHAPTER 7

Andrew

Was it a hell of a gamble? That would be a yes.

Was I praying she’d say yes and feeling a bit blasphemous because of said prayer? Naturally.

Was I thinking of myself and only myself? Absolutely not. This was about her and only her, and I needed her to be on board before I lost my damn mind.

Fourteen years?

Not on my watch. Not. On. My. Watch.

Her green eyes didn’t leave mine. I prayed for those lips to part, for the answer to be yes, and knew in my soul that if she said no, I’d probably find a way to convince her she was wrong in every way.

She needed this.

You need this.

The voice taunted inside my head. I batted it away like the fly it was and waited, my stance tense.

She finally exhaled and looked away. “No, but thank you.”

Stunned speechless, it took me a few minutes to gather myself. “Did you just say no thank you to mind-blowing sex? As if I was just offering to help you with your groceries?”

She laughed. “You make it sound worse than it is.”

“Am I?” My eyebrows shot up. “Because I’m pretty sure that the guy you used to stare at when you were sixteen just said let me make all the pain go away and give you something to really focus on by way of pretty mind-blowing orgasms, and you just said, “Nah, I’m good. Thanks for the offer though, champ!”

“Okay, first of all, I didn’t say champ,” she corrected with a sly grin. “Second, it’s not that I’m rejecting you, though I’m sure it’s never happened, and this is a shock to your ego.” She literally patted me on the thigh as if I was a toddler. “I just — I did the one-night stand. I did the whole ‘let’s have sex and throw caution to the wind,’ and I don’t want to do that again. Plus, we talked about this when we made this arrangement. You said I had to ask you, and I said no thank you. Ergo, we continue with our campout… unless you want to go pout in the tent for a minute. I’ll understand if you need a second to gather yourself after such a blow to your masculine sensitivities.”

I glared. “I’ve been rejected plenty of times.” Lie. “Or at least— Never mind, the point is, you need this.”

She licked her lips. “Do I need this? Or do you need this?”

“We both need this.” I clenched my jaw.

“I think… celibacy might be good for you.” She winked.

Ha, she didn’t even know the half of it.

Celibacy?

I’d been like a frigging priest for the last three years!

“I don’t like that word,” I grumbled.

“You’ll survive, I’m sure. There’s plenty of girls who would already be stripping down right now and asking if you wanted a free show.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the problem, Bronte.” I leaned back on the blanket and sighed. “I don’t want those girls. I want this really bright, stunning woman sitting next to me, who just took my heart and obliterated it with a three-word refusal.”

“You have a heart?” she joked.

“Ha ha.” I rolled my eyes. “All right, so, no sex, which means I have to woo the shit out of you, which also means… music.”

I didn’t let her say no this time. Instead, I got up, grabbed my guitar, sat as close to her as humanly possible, made sure she was wrapped in another blanket and started strumming.

Something about the music instantly relaxed her, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her head on her hands as if she couldn’t wait to hear what I had next.

I played a few chords, liking the way she was watching me more than I would ever admit to any of the guys lest they joke about it until my death. And then I started to sing.

It was one of the songs she’d inspired.

“Damned if I do,

This is something real, something new,

Damned if I don’t,

Because she won’t ever understand

That everything goes dark when I can’t hold her hand…”

I continued singing then just closed my eyes and went into the chorus.

“Nothing ordinary about this love,

When I kiss your lips, I taste the sweetest sin,

The need to give in,

To prove there’s nothing calm about the way my heart

Refuses to stop beating, needing, pursuing

Leading me to claim your mouth in a series of kisses

That a friend shouldn’t give,

But I would sell my soul, forfeit the will to live

For just one more…”

I hummed into the next verse and then finished the bridge. I hadn’t realized my eyes were still closed until I strummed the last chord and opened them to look at Bronte.

Her eyes were filled with tears, and then without any warning, she cupped my face with her hands and whispered, “That was beautiful.”

“This is the time,” I rasped, “that I’d say, ‘No, you’re beautiful,’ but it’s not true.”

She flinched.

I grinned. “You’re breathtaking.” I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Devastatingly gorgeous.” Another kiss to the side of her mouth. “My tongue’s favorite taste.”

She shivered as I took her lips again, this time harder, claiming them for myself as I parted them with my tongue. I may as well have been planting my flag, preparing for war against anyone who dared contradict what was mine.

Loud music and laughter interrupted us.

And then we had around seventeen — no joke — high school kids running toward us.

Bronte gave her head a shake while I glared daggers at every single little shit who continued skipping our direction, throwing sand all over the blankets, my guitar.

Someone was dying this night.

“Mom!” Amelia yelled. “I didn’t know you guys were going to do a campout.”

“Surprise?” I offered lamely, gaining the attention of the seventeen kids who all stared me down like I’d single-handedly cured the common cold.

Giggles erupted, and then cell phones came out.

And our date was over, wasn’t it?

I put my fake smile on for all to see and immediately went into Drew Amhurst mode. I signed autographs while Bronte helped me take pictures with guys, girls, selfies.

Amelia looked uncomfortable. That made two of us.

The last thing she needed was to feel even more out of place after the cancer diagnosis and the tension over wondering if she was still in the clear. I could practically feel her stress pulsing in my direction despite her easy smile. I knew those smiles well; they were convincing when it came to everyone but yourself and your own damn reflection.

“Hey, man!” One of the guys, who was wearing his Seaside High letterman jacket and, honest to God, had his black beanie pulled almost completely over his eyes, showed off two piercings in his ears like he was “hard.” “Can you play Stay with Me?”

Kill. Me. Now. No, better yet, kill me dead. Please.

I gave Bronte a save-me look, which she completely ignored by the way, and then started to strum. “Sure man, what’s your name?”

“Ryan!” He high-fived the dick next to him as they pulled out a flask, and I mentally cleaned my gun on the spot. I was going to have to serve time in federal prison if he as much as touched Amelia.

Damn, I was getting protective over the non-daughter.

But she was innocent.

She was dealing with cancer for shit’s sake.

Ryan probably couldn’t even spell cancer if his life depended on it.

He let out a belch.

I gave a side scowl to Bronte, who caught it this time and put a hand over her mouth, her laughter turning into a cough.

At least we were on the same page.

NO RYANS!

A teen in black-rimmed glasses handed Amelia a Diet Coke and asked to sit next to her.

“Thanks, Alex.”

I nodded my head in approval.

We like Alex.

We hate Ryan.

Ryan seemed to hate Alex.

Which meant Alex just gained a billion points while I was already plotting where Ryan’s body would be buried.

So, I was officially picking sides.

That was different.

With a deep breath, I strummed my guitar and sang the lyrics of the requested song as smoothly as possible, even though I loathed the thing.

It was one of our older ones.

And sadly, one of the most beloved.

It had also become the one song that held all my shame, all my pain — the song I’d written about Angelica when we’d been close when Will was going semi-off the deep end.

It was our song.

It was our friendship.

And now the song was my ghost, possibly my demon.

Perfect.

I finished and looked up. Everyone had their phones out, which meant in about two-point-seven seconds, I would be trending on all social media… again.

And I’d probably get another call from Skye.

Which meant I had to change my number… again.

And then I’d probably get a text from Angelica later saying sorry.

Then a warning text from Will to stop singing the song.

And yeah, lots of super fun moments in my future.

Exhaustion suddenly took over.

“I know that look,” Bronte whispered. “Let’s pack up.”

“Noooo.” Could I sound more like a child? “This is our date. They can leave.”

She grinned. “I doubt they will, plus it’s still early. Tell you what…” She leaned in and whispered in my ear. “We can still have our outdoor adventure, just not on the beach.”

I frowned but exhaled in relief. I didn’t want our time to end, not when it was just beginning. “Then, where?”

“Just pack up the tent.” She winked.

“Fine, but I’m trusting you. Don’t let me down,” I teased, my voice even sounded tired like I’d done a three-hour concert with a thirty-minute encore.

The kids were still hanging out at our spot when we packed stuff up, said our goodbyes, then got in the car and drove home.

I was madly disappointed.

Devastated, actually, that we’d been interrupted.

I was about to apologize when Bronte grabbed our gear and, instead of going inside the house, went around back toward the grassy cliff that overlooked the ocean.

“Think you can build that tent again?”

I smiled in relief. “Yeah, I think I can manage.”

“Good.” She set up our blankets and disappeared, only to come back with one of the small fire pits that were set around the patio. She placed it next to the tent and lit it while I moved the blankets nearby so we could look at the stars.

Wordlessly, we lay down and looked up at the clear night sky.

“What was that?” she asked.

I tried not to move, not to sigh. “What?” I turned on my side to face her.

She mimicked my motion and frowned. “When you sang that song, not the first one, but the second, you sounded so sad, so wounded, so exhausted… I wanted to just yell at everyone and chase them away, and then I imagined them all getting pissed that Amelia’s mom lost her sh—cool in front of everyone.”

I grinned. “Were you going to say shit?”

She scrunched up her face in a grimace. “Maybe?”

“Say it.”

“I’m a—”

“Say mom, and I’m going to just agree with you. Yes, you’re a mom, but you’re also a damn beautiful woman. You’re a human. You have feelings, and sometimes shit is the only way to express them, so, what’s it going to be?”

She looked away and then back at me with a small smile. “Shit.”

“Shit.” I echoed. “I think you just gave me a semi with that aggression.”

She chucked a marshmallow at my face.

I caught it. “Fast reflexes, but that too was just as sexy. Do you even know how to go back into mom-mode now that you’ve gone to the dark side?”

“Dark side, huh?” She threw another marshmallow and then another until I was getting pelted by them. “I’ll show you dark; you spoiled rockstar.”

“Ouch!” I yelped when one hit me in the cheek, and then I dove behind a chair. “You’re a monster! Stop wasting food!”

She burst out laughing. “Then stop teasing!”

My heart swelled at the sound of her laugh. “Never, little girl, never.”

There was a ceasefire of marshmallows. Was I safe?

I peeked around the chair only to see two gorgeous tan legs staring right back at me. “Shit.” I meant it this time. “On a scale of one to ten, how offended would you be if I asked you to just wrap those legs around my face?”

“And strangle you?”

“Sweet death, take me,” I growled and then reached for her.

She jumped back.

And I chased.

I realized I would always chase her.

“Think you’re fast enough to catch me?” she teased as she slowed down, clearly wanting me to do exactly that.

I didn’t hesitate as I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her flush against my side and then down to the blankets we’d set up near the fire.

I nuzzled her neck for a few seconds and just existed in that moment, loving that she didn’t tense or ask for an explanation for why I needed her.

She was just there.

She didn’t have to say any words.

I just needed her to exist in that moment.

I just needed her to breathe me in, while I rested in her.

“Tell me…” She tried again. “…about the song.”

I sobered and pulled away, craving a cigarette, a drink, anything to put in my hands or my mouth so I wouldn’t fixate on this sick feeling in my chest; it burned from the inside out only to repeat itself every single time the lyrics poured out. “You know experts say that music and smell hold the most memories?”

“I can see that.”

“Well,” I continued, “that song holds all the bad ones, all the shitty ones actually. I can’t sing it without all those things flashing through my head, and it tends to mess me up a lot, but it’s so popular that it’s always the go-to for people when we’re around.”

“That has to suck,” she whispered.

“You should probably make it better…” I smiled, but I wasn’t feeling it. I was all done with the fake smiles, and I found I couldn’t do it with her, not now, maybe not ever.

“Do you have it on your phone?”

“Have what?”

“The song,” she asked. “Do you have the track on your phone?”

“Yeah…” I frowned. “Where are you going with this?” And why the hell were my palms suddenly sweaty as if I was about to ask my crush to skate during junior high skate night?

She held out her hand.

I hesitated, then unlocked my iPhone and handed it to her. Hell, I rarely even let my best friends touch my phone; it was intimate in a way she couldn’t possibly understand. Like standing on stage naked or bending over for the good doc.

She opened up my music app. “Easiest way to replace the bad, Drew? You fill it with the good.”

Was it my imagination, or were her hands shaking?

“And how the hell am I going to accomplish that?” I muttered under my breath, irritated with my own crap attitude.

She didn’t hesitate, just pressed play. The first few notes had my body straining to run as far away as possible. Every muscle flexed, my jaw clicked shut as if I was afraid if I opened it, an ear-piercing scream would erupt and scare the entire town of Seaside.

She set the phone down, then trailed a delicate hand up and down my arm.

I focused on her pretty fingertips, and how they were painted a pale pink, I hadn’t noticed before.

Her hands looked safe.

They felt even better.

I squeezed my eyes shut briefly, and then my body was straining in an entirely different way as she moved toward me and straddled my legs.

Her movements weren’t fluid; they were frigid as if she was questioning what she was doing even as she was doing it.

“Damn,” I hissed, reaching for her, greedy to touch her smooth skin. “I’m rarely surprised.”

“Is that what you are now?” She smiled shyly.

I gripped her ass. “Among other things…”

I held my breath, and she leaned down. Her hair smelled like coconut as it grazed my face. And then her mouth was on mine. It was a soft kiss, something that made me forget about the shitty song and encouraged me to hold on to her just a little bit longer.

I was officially lost.

Not to the bad memories.

Not to the music.

But to Bronte.

I fell in that moment, stumbled into this dark hole of need. I dug my fingers into her ass, holding her close, and I drank my fill of her mouth. I let out a groan when her tongue invaded my mouth, lying to myself, that this week, these fleeting moments, these kisses, would be enough to satisfy the hunger in my dark, broken soul.

But even my demons didn’t believe it as my heart whispered its need to finally be free.

CHAPTER 8

Bronte

I was surprised how good he tasted, how clean, how rich and heady it felt to have our mouths fused together.

His hands were almost painful in the way they held my body prisoner as if he was afraid any minute I was going to run away.

Drew let out a groan, and I flicked his lower lip with my tongue. Before I had time to panic, he had me flipped onto my back and was deepening the kiss with a hunger I’d never experienced before in my life.

Ever.

It was almost hard to breathe. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down until his body was lying flat across mine. He kept a hand pressed against the ground to keep from crushing me, but it did nothing to hide his arousal or the fact that I could feel him rock-hard between my legs.

His eyes were hooded as he abruptly pulled back.

I gulped. “What’s wrong?”

He just shook his head, a lazy smile spreading across his perfect face. “The song’s over. I ended the kiss before you did, so I wouldn’t have to be the guy who begs for more when he didn’t even deserve what he got in the first place.”

My mouth was still buzzing with Drew Amhurst aftershocks, and all I kept thinking was, if my mouth feels this way, imagine what the rest of me would feel like if I let him get close. “You shouldn’t say sweet things.”

“I mean them, though,” he said simply. “If I think something, if it’s true…” His eyes flashed with pain — at least, that was what it seemed like before he smiled. “Lies only hurt the person telling them, because, in the end, the truth always wins out, right?” He swallowed. “I’m a firm believer that words have power, and when you use those words for evil… well, you aren’t just hurting those you’re tossing those words at. You’re poisoning yourself in the process.”

I didn’t know what to say to that; I opened my mouth and then shut it.

“What?” His grin was adorable and sexy, all wrapped up in one. Of course, it was.

I shook my head. “I just—” I was suddenly nervous. “That was really wise what you just said.”

“I want to take that as a compliment, except does that mean up until this moment, you thought I was a dumb-ass?” He leaned in until his mouth was about an inch from mine, until I yearned with such force to touch him again that my body started to shake. “Hmmm?”

“Huh?” I rasped. “What?”

“Just tell me I’m smart, and all is forgiven.”

“You’re brilliant,” I whispered, “and a dumbass, all wrapped up in one—”

He started tickling my sides, making my knees jerk under him.

He moved just in time, then glared. “First, I’m a dumb ass. Now, you’re trying to kill the only thing I have going for me?”

Heat licked at my neck and face. “Really? That’s all you have going for you?”

His grin was menacing. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“What’s the only thing I have going for me?”

“No!”

“Do it…” he taunted, his eyes glittering in the dim firelight. “Do it, do it. Say a dirty word.”

“I take back the wise comment!” I protested as he pinned my hands above my head and then lowered his rock-hard body over mine. His arrogant grin really wasn’t helping the situation. “Drew!” I bucked under him.

“Ah, so you can touch it, but you can’t say it?”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Say it, do it. Do it now.”

“Are you five?” I squirmed beneath him.

“Bronteeeeee.” He moaned my name and then literally collapsed his full godlike weight on top of me, only to come back up and wink. “Come on; you gotta give me something. Plus, this is one of those moments!”

“What are you talking about?” I screeched.

“A moment where you get your groove back!” He laughed. “And this is me helping.” He very slowly grabbed my right hand while keeping my left pinned, brought it to his chest, and then dropped it lower until I was clutching the front of his shirt for dear life.

I gulped and, on my own, moved my hand lower to the front of his jeans.

He exhaled a curse as more than curiosity pounded through me. It was something headier, tempting; my entire body buzzed with awareness as I finally ran a single finger down his length through his jeans.

Drew let out a low growl and then grabbed my wrist. “I said, say not touch.”

I tried pulling away, but he kept my hand between us. His eyes locked onto mine. “You know, originally, I was going to spout some shit to embarrass you, say I was talking about my heart when I was really leading with my cock the entire time, and you just had to touch and make me forget all about teasing, make me remember that the only thing I want to taste right now is you. And sadly, the only person I can’t have right now is you.”

I choked on my next breath. “It’s not a good idea.”

“It’s the best idea I’ve ever had, and one day I had an idea to help two turtles cross the road.” He laughed. “They lived, by the way.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was wondering while my hand was inches from your dick, whether the turtles lived.”

His eyes widened, and then he threw his head back and laughed so hard that he moved away from me and let go of both of my hands.

I sat up on my elbows and couldn’t help but smile. “I like your laugh.”

“And my dick,” he said, still laughing.

“And turtles,” I added with a giggle.

“Those little bastards were so slow, I aged ten years watching them try to migrate one foot, so really it was a selfish saving.”

“Still counts,” I teased.

“Hell yes, it counts.” He grabbed my hand again. “I like this side of you better than the protective little shell you like to keep stapled around your body.”

“Wow, sounds sexy.” I looked away.

“It is — you are,” he corrected. “I just like it when you’re freer.”

“Not all of us get that opportunity.” Did I have to sound so broken? So bitter? I hated myself in that moment. I hated that I’d let myself become that way, a shell of my former person.

A shell of the girl who used to skip school just so she could go surfing.

A girl who loved football games because she was able to scream as loud as she wanted.

A girl who played pranks on people and got detention for forking the principal’s lawn and filming it and then showing it during a pep rally.

“All of us get the opportunity. Not all of us take it,” Drew said. “You are always given the option, Bronte, to be yourself. Always.”

For some reason, his confession made me want to cry.

He was right.

I’d had opportunities over the years to live.

And I’d chosen to hide.

The divorce was my first excuse.

The kids my second.

“No, they were my responsibility, and I wanted to make sure that I took that seriously, that they wanted for nothing, that they were confident, that they had love and acceptance no matter what.”

“That’s all good, Bronte. You’re a good mom.” Apparently, I’d spoken all my thoughts out loud again. “But what happens when all that energy is tapped out? What happens when those kids have their own kids, their own lives? That leaves you with what exactly? I love that you’re a selfless person, but right now, I really, really think you should do something selfish.”

I pressed my lips together. “Something selfish, huh?”

“Yeah, something that even I would judge you for, like, ‘Whoa, slow your roll, Bronte. Don’t be such a selfish bitch…’”

I laughed. “I’m thinking. Plus, it’s not like we have a lot of options, camping out in my front yard.”

His eyes flashed. “So, we go inside. We walk down the road. Show me selfish, and I’ll show you life. Show me a weakness, and I’ll worship you until it’s your strength. The point, Bronte, is you do something.”

“Who are you?” I whispered reverently.

“A fuck up.” He shrugged. “Which is why I know all the things.” He winked. “Who’s the dumbass now…”

Easy laughter bubbled up. “Clearly, not you.”

“Exactly.” He stood and held out his hand. “What will it be?”

I opened my mouth just as the sound of Amelia and her friends running through the house interrupted our little interlude.

My face fell.

Time to be a mom again.

Make sure they have snacks.

Aren’t staying up too late and…

“Go take a bath.” Drew put his hands on my shoulders and turned me toward the glass door. “I’ll make sure they have food, know the rules, and don’t burn the house down.”

“Oh, I really shouldn’t—”

“Are you sure? Because if you don’t, I’m going to march into that living room and announce to Amelia in front of all her friends that I’ve seen her mom naked, and she touched my dick.”

“You wouldn’t!” I gasped.

He grinned. “Try me.”

“Bastard,” I grumbled under my breath. “That’s low.”

“Bath.” He stepped out of my way and slapped me on the butt as I passed him. “Go.”

“Ow!” I shrieked and then stomped away from him.

Amelia was on the couch with her friends — no Ryans, thank God, since I highly doubted that guy was working with a lot upstairs.

“Hey, Mom!” Amelia bounced on her feet. “We’re just going to watch a movie before bed. That okay?”

“What movie?” Drew asked, leaning against the doorframe.

It was hard not to notice the way Amelia’s friends seemed to just swoon right onto the couch as they giggled as if he’d asked a funny question.

High school.

“Ohhhh… I don’t know.” Amelia grabbed the remote. “Something new, you know? Not made back when Nicolas Cage was still a big deal. So pretty much nothing old… like you.” She shot Drew a teasing grin.

“Me?” He pointed at himself. “Old? I’ll have you know I can still run seven miles a day, and I’m only thirty-six, but nice try, small fry. Also, I’m younger than Chris Pratt, so just digest that for a minute.”

“Ahh, he’s so hot,” one of her friends said.

“And I’m not?” Drew looked genuinely offended, which earned giggles from the girls again.

“Amelia,” I interrupted, “I’m just going to go get ready for bed real quick, all right? Don’t stay up too late.”

“Yeah, don’t stay up too late,” Drew repeated with a smirk.

The girls giggled again, and Amelia gave Drew a salute. Amelia looked so happy, so healthy. I hoped to God she stayed that way. Her results would be back tomorrow, and while the doctor had been optimistic, the chance still remained.

It had aged both of us, leaving me wondering stupidly where I fit when she finally went off to school, lived her life like she deserved, lived her life without me constantly by her side.

I turned around, deflated as I walked across the house and into the master bedroom and turned on the jetted tub.

While it filled, I stripped out of my clothes and put on my black silk bathrobe then pulled my hair into a messy knot.

I caught my reflection in the massive mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my lips swollen.

I licked them, wishing I could still taste him there.

What is happening to me?

I pressed a hand against my stomach and then leaned against the counter, staring down at my different overnight products.

All of them promised to make me age backward.

And I wondered in that moment, how I’d gotten there.

Almost forty, divorced.

And I hadn’t had sex in fourteen years.

Almost forty with my whole life, it seemed, ahead of me — and I was afraid to say dick? I mean, really? It wasn’t that, though. It was that I felt torn between two worlds— the mom world… and who I really was.

“You don’t need that shit.” Drew’s voice suddenly interrupted, causing me to knock over two of the expensive serums that promised youthful skin overnight.

I stared up at him through the mirror. “You scared me.”

“I’m stealthy.” He crossed his arms. He was wearing a loose gray tank top and his jeans still, but his shoes were off, and he looked even sexier with his messy hair, standing in my bathroom barefoot. “Bath’s ready.”

When had he even turned it off?

“Th-thanks.” I grabbed the doorknob, but he was on the wrong side; he was in the bathroom with me, and he wasn’t budging. “Drew?”

“Hmm?” His grin widened.

“Did you need something else?”

“Nope, I’m good.” As casual as hell, he walked over to the side of the bathtub, grabbed some salts and a bath bomb, and started making my bath like he’d done it a million times.

And then he pulled out a lighter from his back pocket and lit the candles I rarely used for anything but decoration around the tub.

It was like a private retreat just for me.

He got up and lowered the lights, and then his hands were on my shoulders, sliding down the silk until it was halfway down my arms. “I’m not going to close my eyes.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Who says you have to say anything? I just wanted you to know. In a lot of things, I can be a gentleman, but when it comes to watching you walk toward that bath and sink deep—” He hissed out a curse. “—yeah, I’m going to have to be completely honest. Even if I said I’d close my eyes, I would peek.”

I immediately relaxed. “I like your honesty.”

“Let me help. He continued slithering the bathrobe down to my waist, and then he pulled the sash. The robe fell in a pool of silk at my feet.

His hands moved to my bare skin. His calluses from playing guitar were rough against my hips. I wanted more. I wanted to beg him to just hold me like that, to kiss down my back and make promises both of us knew he couldn’t keep.

“Ask me,” he whispered. “Ask me for something selfish.”

My heart pounded in my chest as I stared straight ahead at the bath. What if I had nothing to lose? What if my heart wasn’t in danger? What if this wouldn’t end badly? What if this was just one week, and I could ask for anything I wanted in the world?

What would I ask for?

I took a step toward the bath and then looked over my shoulder. His eyes were blazing as he watched me; I could feel the need pulsing off him like it was my own.

Without thinking twice about it, I asked, “Do you want to join me?”

Apparently, I’d stunned him into complete silence. He stared first at me then the bath then back at me. “Is that your selfish request?”

“No, my selfish request was for you to touch me, but I figured that could get out of hand really fast…”

“Literally.” His chuckle was dark, delicious as it wrapped itself around me. “It’s like you know me so well.”

“I’m starting to.” I didn’t wait for more of his response. I just turned back toward the bath and quickly got in then sank all the way down to my neck.

“Why does this feel like you’re doing me a favor?” Drew asked as he peeled his tank over his head and tossed it to the ground.

The man was a god.

Every thickly chorded muscle seemed so tight that I wondered if he even knew how to take deep breaths.

His tatted hands moved to the front of his jeans.

I’d never seen a guy strip before— My ex had always wanted sex to be quick, which I later found out was because he was cheating, and our sex life was basically nonexistent after the third time I got pregnant.

—until that night.

I licked my lips as Drew slowly inched his jeans down.

No boxers.

No briefs.

He sprang free but ignored his obvious erection as he stepped out of his pants and then walked toward me.

His two necklaces swung with each step.

How he managed to look so masculine and sexy wearing more jewelry than I was impossible to understand.

If I focused on the necklaces, I wouldn’t look at his cock. I wouldn’t be tempted to stare, and I wouldn’t embarrass myself by asking if I could stare more or even touch it.

He was beautiful.

Hard, smooth, olive skin that made me feel like I was boiling beneath the hot water.

“You’re going to have to move over so I can fit,” he whispered.

And, of course, I had to look down at his arousal again and stare.

“Not that,” he teased. “That I know will fit.”

“Drew—”

“It’s just a bath, Bronte.”

No, it wasn’t.

He knew it.

I knew it.

This was the start of something.

A line had been drawn in the sand.

And I’d invited him to cross it.

No regrets.

Even as he sank down and gently pulled me to his chest. Even as he ran his fingers down my back then mimicked the same motion with soap in his hands, and even when he pressed a chaste kiss to the top of my head.

I knew.

The line hadn’t just been crossed.

It had disappeared completely.

And never had my heart felt freer.

Or more afraid.

CHAPTER 9

Andrew

I finally understood the true meaning of torture, and it was right in front of me. It wasn’t even Bronte. It was the damn water. With each breath, each movement, it lapped across her breasts.

It didn’t help that we had three high school girls in the other room, whose giggles I could still hear while that water kept licking and kissing Bronte’s smooth fair skin… tempting me, teasing me, making me question right from wrong.

“Tell me something bad.” I danced my fingertips down her arm. I wanted nothing more than to hold her firm against my body, trap her there, feel the heat between us explode into such fiery need that we both gave in.

To everything.

Instead, I, Drew Amhurst, was making conversation.

What the hell is wrong with me?

My body told me to act.

My head told my body it was a stellar idea even though my dick had been onboard days ago.

But my stupid heart, the one that fought between dark and light, wrong and right, said, wait.

Just wait.

I hated that word, wait.

“Something bad?” She shifted enough that the water lapped around us again, giving me a brief glimpse of rosy nipples.

I hated that all my brain could conjure up was the word touch. I had no poetry, nothing, just touch, want, lick. Mine.

All the things I wasn’t supposed to be doing as I tried to politely engage in conversation that would not end up in any sort of sexual position.

Shit.

Maybe it was good for me, this waiting business. Maybe I’d just lie to myself and say it was for the best since it was only a week, but even as I thought it, I knew it was so much more — that it would be so much more because, above all else, I was a fantastic liar.

I lied to myself that I didn’t need anyone.

I lied to myself that I was happy.

And I lied to myself that I wouldn’t get attached.

I said that lie when I was already on my way to confessing extreme like toward someone who probably tolerated me at best.

“Yeah,” I said the word emerging from my throat gruffer than I’d expected.

“Well…” Bronte turned and looked up at me.

The steam from the hot water had her hair curling around the nape where it was damp. I wanted to tug on it, to taste it, to wrap it around my fingers, take it hostage.

“When I was in high school, I had this teacher who always seemed to pick on me, and he always did it in front of the class, even though I had really great grades. Anyway, he was super anal about his desk, so every day for a year, I would slowly move things around. He cracked on the last day when his coffee cup was in the wrong spot.”

I laughed. “That’s funny and deserved, not bad.”

“Oh, I wasn’t finished,” she teased. “He was always falling asleep at his desk. He wasn’t the best teacher, and he was a hard sleeper. We decided to wrap him up in Saran Wrap then send him sailing down the hall with his coffee cup taped to his hand. The sign across his chest said ‘Will strip for coffee.’”

I winced and then erupted in laughter. “Please tell me he had all his clothes on.”

“Of course.” She laughed. “But he was single, and the principal had a huge crush on him, so she thought he was doing it as a prank, and the rest of my class only encouraged that notion when they started throwing rose petals as if he’d used us to set her up. She sat right on his lap, planted the biggest kiss on his mouth, and cried.”

“Noooo,” I said, laughing. “That’s so mean! The poor guy!”

“Hey!” She poked me in the chest. “They got married a year later.”

“That’s a happy story, not a bad story,” I pointed out.

“True.” She lay against my chest, her cheek hot, pressed to my skin. I started playing with her hands as they intertwined with mine. “But the whole point was revenge, and I got it. They had triplets a year after that. He’s bald now by the way, not that kids are a curse, total blessing—”

“Poor guy’s probably still stressed. Tell me they were at least—”

“Girls.” She sighed happily. “All three of them.”

More laughter bubbled up. “Yeah, okay, so it has a happy, albeit stressful ending?”

“Pretty much.” She chuckled and then shifted, her fingers accidentally grazing my cock.

My body jerked.

“Sorry.” Her cheeks flamed bright pink.

I frowned. “I’m not, so don’t apologize.”

She gulped and then looked down. “I wasn’t thinking…”

“Good.” I gripped her by the hips, then picked her up and straddled her legs over my body. “I don’t want you to think— Even though this totally sounds like a line, you know you’re safe with me. Your rules. I won’t do anything you don’t ask for.”

She chewed her lower lip, making me jealous as hell. “What if I don’t know what to ask for?”

“Then we play a guessing game of hot or cold.”

“Ha.” She sobered. “Oh, you’re serious?”

“Try me.”

“But—”

I grabbed her hand and pressed it to my chest. “Hmm… cold.” I lowered her hand under the water. “Getting warmer…”

She jerked her hand away. “I think I know how it works.”

“Then play with me,” I challenged in a hushed whisper. The darker parts of my soul awakened a bit in that moment. I’d always been that guy — the one who made people cross the line, the one who justified it and gave them reasons it was okay to sin because I was there sinning right next to them.

But this time? It was more savior than sinner; at least that was what I told myself as she stared me down.

I loved the way her green eyes widened and then almost threatened to swallow the room whole with their intensity. She reached for my hand and then brought it to her lips, not what I’d expected. They were petal-soft, my mouth would know, as she kissed each fingertip, taking time to savor me in a way I’d never experienced.

I tried not to shake, but my body had other ideas.

What was happening?

What was this surreal feeling as she slowly seduced me with her tiny innocent mouth?

Throat dry, I swallowed as she took that same hand and pressed my palm against her chest, her eyes asking what her mouth couldn’t.

I slowly lowered my hand, my fingertips grazing her breast.

She let out a tiny gasp at the contact; it was so light, so brief, but it didn’t matter. I felt that touch everywhere as I slowly rubbed my fingertips across her smooth skin. I rolled a nipple between my fingertips; her sharp inhale giving me all the encouragement I needed as I moved my hand and cupped her face, pulling her in for a kiss.

Her mouth opened for me as she twined her arms around my neck and pulled me flush against her.

“Hot,” I teased between kisses. “So hot.”

“Scalding,” she agreed.

“Dying,” I rasped as I dug my hands into her hair. My cock strained against her stomach, greedily searching for any sort of relief.

She moaned and started rocking against me. The water swirled around us, building just like the intensity between us continued to spiral out of control.

“Mom?” A knock sounded on the bathroom door. “Mom, can I come in?”

She jerked away so fast from me that water kicked up over the edge of the bath. Bronte touched her lips and paled like she was horrified that we’d just kissed in her bathtub.

I’d felt a lot of things in my life.

Shame was one I knew quite well.

And her expression mirrored it perfectly.

It wasn’t just that she was kissing me.

She was embarrassed she’d given in.

And maybe even a little bit ashamed that the person she’d given in to — was me.

I steeled my expression then looked away. I couldn’t even find a smile to flash at her in the moment. Because I wanted this — I wanted her — and I hated that she viewed me as a mistake when I saw her as a reward.

“Just a minute, honey.” Bronte quickly got out of the tub, wrapped a towel around herself, and left the bathroom.

Left me.

Alone, in an empty tub.

Couldn’t say it had ever happened to me before, a woman just walking away after I teased her breasts, kissed her mouth.

I waited in the tub, drumming my fingertips against the tile until finally, it was bordering on embarrassing with how cold the water was getting.

I grabbed a towel, dried off, put my clothes back on, and managed to empty the tub all within a few minutes.

When I cracked the door open, it was to see Amelia lying in bed with her mom, both of them sleeping.

And the lonely rockstar in the tepid bathwater? Completely forgotten.

Anger warred with rejection, and then a blanket of sadness decided to wrap itself around my throat as I tiptoed past the bed where they lay intertwined.

Where they physically showed me, there was no place for someone like myself, no room.

I tried to conjure up my walls, the familiar anger, but all I felt was left behind, abandoned, and I hated that feeling because it was the one I’d been running from my entire existence.

Bronte’s heart had been carved out by her three children, leaving no room to stretch for a guy she didn’t know, didn’t trust.

Feeling like an idiot, I reached for the sliding glass door and opened it.

“Sorry,” Bronte whispered. “She wasn’t feeling good, and I didn’t want it to look suspicious,” She was suddenly behind me, wrapping an arm around my stomach.

I glanced over my shoulder. Amelia was completely out and turned the other direction, the comforter over her head.

“It’s fine,” I said, holding a polite tone.

“You’re upset.” Bronte slowly turned me to face her. “I panicked, all right? She’s not ready to see me with anyone yet—”

“Did you ask her?” I crossed my arms and pulled away.

“What?”

“Did you ask her if she’s ready for you to date?”

She frowned. “Well, no, but I’m her mom. I don’t need to.”

I nodded. “Right, why don’t you come over tomorrow when you’re ready to stop using your fully grown children as crutches.”

Her hand went flying across my face so fast that I didn’t have time to block it. And that sting… I felt it heavy in my soul, face be damned.

“How dare you!” she hissed.

“Me?” I stood chest to chest with her. “Are you serious right now? You’re the one that hasn’t taken a chance in over fourteen years, and now that you have a person fully willing to give you everything, you use Amelia as a shield.”

“She could be sick again!” Bronte shoved me.

“You’re right.” I hung my head. “She could be sick, you could be sick, the world could end tomorrow — and I get that I’ve only known her a little while, but she’s the bravest girl I’ve ever met. So tomorrow, when you’re done running, ask her. Ask her how she feels about us. I can guarantee you, she’s happy.”

“How would you know that?” She shot me a death glare.

“Because…” I was suddenly exhausted. “…I did what you didn’t.”

She frowned.

I continued talking. “I asked her. I asked your daughter before I acted.”

Bronte’s face was pale, her eyes wide with shock.

I turned around and left, pulling the glass door closed.

Good, let her be shocked.

Did she really think I’d ask Braden and not Amelia? Hell, I would have asked Sarah too if she wasn’t away at school.

I wasn’t sure if I was insulted, hurt, angry, or all of the above. Was it fair that she was freaked out? Absolutely.

I just wanted, for the first time in my life, to be the guy others leaned on, not the one they ran from.

CHAPTER 10

Bronte

I didn’t sleep at all once Drew left. In fact, I found myself just staring out at the glass door as if he was going to come back when I knew it was stupid. Because what was he going to do? Watch me sleep?

Amelia woke up pretty early and said she felt good enough for a run, and that she might have just had some bad chicken the night before.

She didn’t look pale anymore, and everything about her revealed youth and excitement over another day. I had to ask myself if I even thought about the days I’d been given, or did I just go right into task-mode, mom-mode, crossing off a list of things that needed to get done before making the perfect dinner.

I frowned and hurried to get ready, unsure if Drew still wanted to even see me after last night.

Embarrassment washed over me as I thought about his kisses, about our heated moments in the bathtub where, for a few brief seconds, I felt like the type of woman he could be with — wanted to be with — not the terrified version of myself who hid under a shell of labels like mom, wife, etcetera.

“Mom!” Amelia’s shout could probably be heard across the country.

I ran into the kitchen and stuttered to a stop when I saw that Drew was already putting eggs and bacon on Amelia’s plate and asking if she wanted orange juice.

He knew we had an appointment today. I’d mentioned it before all of this started. Was he just trying to distract her? And had he really asked her about us? Exhaustion was already creeping in as I imagined all the scenarios where Drew and Amelia plotted against me.

My eyes narrowed. I went from feeling bad to wondering what his angle was. We hadn’t parted on the greatest of terms last night.

And I knew it was my fault, but he’d been extremely invasive!

And now he was in my kitchen.

Cooking for my daughter.

“Your eggs are so much better.” Amelia moaned around another bite.

“Amelia.” I kept my voice even and forced myself not to look at Drew; it hurt this early, physically hurt to see his beauty. “Don’t you have friends over?”

She waved me off. “They slept in, and I got up early for a run and ran into Drew, literally, since he was on his run, and then he asked if I’d eaten, and here we are!”

She spread her arms out in triumph.

I smiled as she poked another piece of bacon away from the griddle where Drew was cooking, earning a smack from his spatula. She stuck out her tongue, but he just winked his flirty wink.

Something stabbed me in the chest.

Anger…?

No, why would I be angry?

I wanted them to get along, didn’t I?

What was this feeling?

This… oh no, oh no, no, no, no. Jealousy? Was I jealous of my own daughter? Of the way she laughed with him so freely, when all I did was waste every ounce of energy I had on keeping my shields up as if that would save me from a guy like Drew Amhurst.

I gulped and guiltily looked away. What was I even doing right now? Every time one of us opened up, I ruined it.

“Gorgeous,” Drew barked.

I didn’t look up.

“He’s talking to you, Mom…” Amelia laughed. “I swear you don’t realize how beautiful you are sometimes. All right, I’m off to go shower, and Drew, it was a pleasure. Next time, maybe you’ll beat me when we race.”

He pointed the spatula at her. “You tripped me twice, then threw sand in my face, then wondered why I nearly impaled myself on a seashell.”

“It was like this big.” She rolled her eyes and held out her fingers, making a small inch measurement.

He sputtered. “You lie!”

“Maybe.” She laughed. “All right, Mom, I haven’t gotten any calls. You?”

I deflated. “No, but maybe that’s a good thing?”

“Maybe…” Her smile fell a bit, and then she was hugging me before walking away, leaving me alone with the rockstar and his eggs.

His really good-looking eggs.

And his gorgeous face.

A nose ring.

Perfect biceps.

Tattoos for days.

Why was I chasing him away again?

“I’m not on the menu.” He tsked with a smirk. “So, if you’re gonna look, I’m going to have to charge you, B.”

I tilted my head to the left and regarded him, one eyebrow raised.

He offered a nonchalant shrug. “Bronte’s too much of a mouthful. Plus, it sounds so stupid polite.” He started piling a plate with eggs and bacon. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and you’re more of a B.”

“B?”

“B-Dog.” He nodded. “Like B-Magic, B‘man, B‘woman, you get the gist.”

“Not really.” I fought to keep from smiling. “Does that mean I get to call you D?”

He shoved the plate in front of me then leaned forward so I could smell his perfect cologne and see the dimple at the corner of his full mouth. “That depends. Do I get something out of it, B?”

I licked my lips.

“Maybe don’t do that,” he whispered. “Just makes me want to take a bite.”

“Of bacon?”

“Of your mouth.” His eyes darted lower. “And other things.”

“Amelia’s in the other—”

“We have an understanding.”

“Huh?”

“I talked with her, told her I was going to get you pregnant and be her new daddy.”

“WHAT!”

He released an evil chortle that morphed into riotous laughter. “Okay, first of all, take a joke. Second, she would have slapped me across the face like someone else did last night. No, I just told her what my intentions were.”

I squirmed in my seat and poked at my eggs with my fork, gripping it so tight my fingers ached. “And what are those?”

“Come here.” He crooked his finger.

I leaned forward, holding my breath, anticipation making my whole body tingle, only to have him whisper, “It’s a secret.”

I jerked back. “But—”

“Eat. We have a full day today!”

“We do?” I frowned. “But Amelia has her appointment. I can’t miss it, and tomorrow’s—”

“Your birthday and the next day’s your anniversary.” His smile was infectious. “So, we’re going to continue this Little Bronte Gets Her Groove Back plan, but I’m going to put something into place. Think of it as a new rule.”

“I’m listening.” I took a bite of egg and waited.

“No touching.”

I choked down the egg and reached for my juice then rasped, “I’m sorry?”

“Me too. So…” He eyed me up and down. “…damn sorry… sorry for days, months, years, maybe even centuries.”

“Drew?” I snapped my fingers.

“Anyway.” His smile was back. “I think it’s making you think too hard about all the reasons you couldn’t, shouldn’t, can’t. Ergo, I’m going to take temptation away.”

I snorted out a laugh. “Just like that?”

He gave a curt nod and crossed his arms. “Just like that.”

“So, your plan is for me to just have really good self-control?”

His eyes lit up. “Of course. Should be easy, right?”

“Can you touch me?”

“Sadly, no, the rule goes both ways.”

“And if I want to break it?”

“Then break it, but once you do…” A triumphant grin washed over his face. “…no going back.”

“Okay, once I cross the line…”

“You’re basically stuck with me touching you all the time. Your choice, cupcake.” He rubbed his hands together. “All right, I’m going to go shower my sweat off. You’re, of course, more than welcome to join me, just remember the rules, and I’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes to go with you to Amelia’s appointment. And then we have a date!”

“We do, do we?” I couldn’t help my smile.

“Oh, yes,” He grabbed a book and held it up. “I have plans for us.”

“Why does that look so fa—” Horrified, I jumped out of my seat and ran around the island full speed.

“Aw, you’re so short.” He held it above his head. “By the way, I love the way your daughter’s mind works. She’s… a bit dangerous. We really need to keep an eye on her with all those Ryans running around.”

I jumped and swatted at his hand. “If Ryan touches her, we kill him.”

“Finally, we agree on something.” He lifted the book higher.

“Give it!” I huffed.

“Nope.” He opened it with both hands. “By the way, I would have never thought you were voted most likely to die from a fry addiction.”

My eyes widened. “EVERYONE LIKES FRIES!”

“But, I mean, dying for them?” He patted my head. “A bit extreme.”

“Drew!”

“Are you going to full name me? Oh God, I’ve dreamed about that for days. Do it, do it already. I’m waiting.”

“DREW AMHURST!”

“There it is.” Gleeful laughter burst forth. “Wow, I think I just got hard.”

“I hate you!”

“No, you don’t.” His laughter slowed to a chuckle. “I’ll just be taking this yearbook with me back to my room. Might memorize a few things. Oh, and I’d strap the hell in because, after last night, I’m not showing any mercy.” His eyes heated to the point that I almost fell into a sweaty pool at his feet. “Oh, and by the way, I’m honored that you wore my face on your shirt during Celebrity Crush Day your senior year.”

“Dead. I’m killing her DEAD!” I roared loud enough for Amelia to hear.

The door shut to more of Drew’s laughter.

I stomped into Amelia’s room. Her friends were still sleeping, and the shower was running, meaning I couldn’t yell at her.

I stomped back out, crossed my arms, and then prayed for an asteroid to hit the earth.

My yearbook.

I should have thought ahead.

Betrayed by my own flesh and blood.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but the embarrassment wouldn’t alleviate. And now, Drew would know even more secrets.

He would see my eighteen-year-old self dancing to his music at Sadie Hawkins; he would see the teen mom trying to finish school and balance life; he would see me wearing his face… He would see so many things I didn’t want him to see.

But most of all, Drew, would finally see me.

And I’d never been more scared.

CHAPTER 11

Andrew

I was already shaking with the need to tuck her hair behind her ear. She was wearing it down, maybe to torture me. To torture all men in general? I had no clue.

I’d spent half the drive trying not to get in a car accident while Bronte and Amelia talked about a movie Amelia wanted to see, then she started asking about going out with her friends, and then my hackles rose as she said the name, Ryan.

In reality, she said it like a normal human.

But in my head?

It was slow motion. Thunder cracked afterward, and I swerved in an effort not to get struck by lightning, all before slamming on the brakes and turning around, jabbing my finger in her direction and going. “No!”

It wasn’t my proudest moment.

The car was silent.

Bronte hid her laugh behind her hand, and Amelia glared at me as if I’d just told her she couldn’t date until she was forty, which, in hindsight? Not the worst idea I’d ever had.

“What do you mean, no?” Amelia glared. “You’re not my—”

“Say I’m not your dad, and I’m turning this car around right now!” I barked.

Amelia sputtered while Bronte started choking on another laugh.

“And you!” I pointed at Bronte. “Just letting her talk about dirty little Ryan as if he even has a chance with someone like Amelia!”

I was parked, so I reached for my phone.

“Wait, what is he doing?” Amelia asked in a panicked voice.

“No idea,” Bronte said, obvious amusement in her voice.

“Yeah, hey, Frank? Yeah, I got a problem that needs taken care of.”

“MOM!” Amelia shrieked. “What the heck?”

“Oh?” On the other end of the line, Frank chuckled. “What sort of problem? You know if it’s a person, I may need a social security number, do a little background check.”

“Oh, that’s part of the problem,” I said through clenched teeth. “There’s this guy, and sure, I can get his social, shouldn’t be a problem—”

“MOM, DO SOMETHING!” Amelia yelled.

Bronte just yawned and stared down at her phone.

“YOU GUYS ARE SO LAME! DREW! I HELPED YOU! AND YOU BETRAY ME WITH ONE PHONE CALL!”

I held up my hand. “Shhh. Not-Dad’s speaking, squirt.”

Bronte shook in her seat and then started laughing so hard she had tears running down her gorgeous cheeks

“Well…” Frank sighed. “…sounds like you have things under control. Is that a teenager yelling at you?”

“It’s what they do.” I blew out a long, slow breath.

“You’re telling me,” he said in a tired voice. “Really, though, do I need to check this punk out? Why don’t you just scare him shitless?”

“He’s too stupid to be afraid!” I raged. “I could tell him I was going to cut his tongue out and feed it to a pig, and he’d probably burp and go, ‘We got pigs?’”

“Mom!” Amelia groaned. “Ryan isn’t that dumb!”

“If he can spell cat, I quit life!” I yelled back at her. “Plus, he has eyes!”

“EVERYONE HAS EYES!” she roared. “Mom, he’s crazy!”

“What did you say?” I hissed. “I’m not crazy. Hold on, Frank, I have a teenager to calm down.”

Frank chuckled again. “Yeah, good luck with that. Do you know how many grandkids I have?”

“Too many,” I grumbled. “Hey, saw Chase on TV. Pretty cool, he’s running for a seat in the Senate.”

Amelia’s eyes went wide. “Who’s he talking to?”

“Shh…” I hushed her. Then I whispered, “Mafia.”

“He’s kidding.” Bronte laughed.

“He’s not.” Frank and I said at the same time.

“Well,” Frank said, “good luck with that. Don’t be a stranger, and if you really need help, call me later. I got a few guys in Seattle. Would be a short trip.”

“Toward death,” I said cheerfully.

“Well, I meant to Portland, but sure, scare the teen shitless. Say something about dental records.”

I snorted. “What was that? You won’t even be able to identify him with his dental records?”

“Mom.” Amelia sounded so freaked out that I felt nothing but joy in my soul.

My job was done.

Frank outright laughed. “Nice. All right, talk to you soon.”

“Yup!”

I hung up and turned slowly toward Amelia. “No Ryans.”

“Or what?” she squeaked.

“Well, you only heard half that conversation.” I grinned. “Use your imagination, small one.”

“Mom.” She clenched her teeth.

“Sorry.” Bronte grinned. “Looks like Not-Your-Dad has put down his foot, and who am I to tell him to pick it up? I mean, he’s not wrong.” She winked at me. “No Ryans.”

I held up my fist.

Bronte bumped it.

I made an exploding motion with mine, earning an eye roll and “You’re so lame” from Amelia, but I noticed, as I pulled back into traffic, she was smiling down at her phone.

See? She didn’t need any fucking Ryans.

She just needed us. Her mom…

And Not-Your-Dad, aka me.

Mission accomplished.

I smiled the entire way to the hospital, but the mood didn’t last long as we pulled into the parking lot.

The SUV was completely silent as if we weren’t sure if we’d be smiling or planning more treatments when we came back outside.

“Ready?” Bronte exhaled like she’d been holding her breath and shared a petrified glance with me before checking back on Amelia.

Amelia nodded once and then clenched her cell in her right hand, so tight her fingers went white. “No, but let’s go anyway.”

“You know,” I interrupted and showed her my phone. “We have about ten minutes, and that’s just enough time for a lame, boring Not-Your-Dad ‘when I was your age’ pep talk.”

Amelia pressed her lips tighter and rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure nobody has time for that—”

“You see,” I cleared my throat, ready for the encouraging lie. “…back when I was the quarterback at my old high school, living my best life, dating all the hot cheerleaders, and you know, all around peaking and under the impression that I’d always be surrounded by beautiful women instead of working three jobs and paying a mortgage, I too had a big day.”

“Let me guess…” Amelia grinned. “Big game?”

“State championship,” I lied. “Naturally, I threw the winning touchdown with a broken arm and black eye.”

“Naturally.” Amelia grinned. “I mean, how else do you gain small-town glory?”

“Or get the key to the city,” I added. “The point is that moment would have never happened had I stayed in the car. No matter what you face, whether it’s a big or small, staying in one place never changes the outcome.”

Bronte smiled. “How uncharacteristically wise of someone who peaked at eighteen.”

“Right?” I agreed. “All that matters, Amelia, is that you have a mom who loves you, a brother who would murder for you — who, by the way, hates Ryan too—” I’d fill him in later. “— a kick-ass older sister, and really good friends. So right now may be a shit time—”

“Not-My-Dad said, ‘shit,’ Mom!”

“I’ll forgive it.” She winked.

“Consider a dollar added to Trevor’s family swear jar.” God knew he could probably buy a new Bentley at this point with all the dollars I’d had to donate when I stayed there briefly.

Damn those Legos!

“As I was saying, it may be a shit time, but you’ve got love, and if you have love, you’re the richest person in the world.”

Amelia’s eyes filled with tears. “Is this the part where you give me an awkward side hug, tell me not to do drugs, and try to explain sex?”

I made a face. “Amateur. Not-Your-Dad penciled that in right after dinner!”

“I look forward to this talk the way I do root canals.” Amelia laughed. Her words said one thing; her body language said thank you.

“All right.” Bronte grabbed her purse. “Let’s go in.”

We all piled out of the car and started walking toward the stark tan brick building. I reached for Bronte’s hand and squeezed it, only to feel someone else reaching for mine on the other side.

Amelia held my hand tight and whispered under her breath as we walked. “Best Not-My-Dad pep talk in the world.”

“More where that came from.” I winked down at her and didn’t miss the wistful look she gave me, or the way it made my heart squeeze in my chest as I wondered what it would be like if I took off the “Not.”

And the “My.”

And just kept the “Dad.”

CHAPTER 12

Bronte

I couldn’t believe that Amelia had grabbed his hand.

Even crazier? I liked it.

I liked that we were walking into that hospital like a team, and in the same breath, the same sentence, I nearly passed out when his presence alone had people holding up their phones like they couldn’t believe Drew Amhurst would grace our shitty hospital with his presence.

Immediately, he dropped both of our hands and put protective arms around our shoulders as if to shield us.

But the problem with his shield?

It didn’t work. He could only shield her or me; he couldn’t protect both of us from the questions, the pictures, and I immediately wanted to be angry that something so private would be made public just because he was talented, rich, and famous.

I understood it, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.

For us.

Or for him.

What sort of fresh hell was that? To constantly walk around and know you were simultaneously getting posted about, tweeted about.

We made it into the elevator in silence.

And as it went up to the children’s cancer wing, the music — his music, because of course, it was an instrumental version of Adrenaline — filled the small space.

“Is that ever weird?” Amelia asked.

Drew scowled. “You have no idea.”

“You’re cringing,” she pointed out.

“Yes.” He shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “And dying a little bit on the inside since they added violins and took out the electric guitar.”

Amelia snorted. “I think it’s fancy.”

He shot her a glare. “It’s dinner music.”

“Would you like some tea?” she said in a fake British accent, earning a groan from both of us as the elevator doors opened.

She didn’t move.

I reached for her hand and saw Drew wink over her head at me as he pointed down the hall and whispered, “One step at a time. The only thing that happens when you stand still is that the world keeps on spinning, sweetheart.”

She sighed heavily. “Stop making sense.”

“I always make sense.”

“He saved two turtles crossing the road,” I interjected, “and used it as an argument on his own behalf.”

“Aww…” Amelia grinned. “…you like turtles too?”

Drew made a face at me then high-fived her as we made our way across the hall to sign in.

I’d been in this office too many times to count.

Hated the antiseptic smell.

I even hated the artwork that littered the walls because it reminded me of all the sleepless nights in the hospital room, staring at Amelia’s various projects, wondering if she would ever be able to show the world her immense talent, or if these walls would be the only ones who would appreciated just how talented and beautiful she was.

“Amelia.” The receptionist smiled. “Bronte.” Her eyes flickered to Drew in curiosity. “You can come back now. Dr. Zoe’s ready for you.”

I gave Amelia a confident smile and walked into the doctor’s office. I knew the office well. Zoe was a year younger than me and an incredible doctor. Her college degrees hung behind her desk on the wall in all her glory, and her smile was welcoming as always.

I’d always loved her smile. We’d never been close, but that didn’t mean she treated us like anything less than family. Her brown eyes mirrored her smile, and her Hawaiian heritage gave her a gorgeous glow that I wished I could bottle up and use on a daily basis.

“I see we have a special guest today.” Zoe grinned at Amelia. “Did you win a contest or something?”

“Nope.” Amelia grinned. “He likes my mom.”

Drew shot her a glare and then sighed. “From the mouths of babes. They grow fast, don’t they?”

Zoe blinked and then exploded in laughter. “That’s hilarious, but really…”

She looked at me.

“I would be insulted if I wasn’t also in the same boat labeled Disbelief.” I just shrugged. “I may get a restraining order later.”

“Please, you like to keep me around. I pour wine quite heavily.” He held up his hands to Zoe. “But, I mean, not the entire bottle and — responsibly because…” He winked. “…I’m an adult now. Amelia even let me give her a pep talk on the way.”

“Yeah, football star.” Amelia grinned.

“Oh, you played football?” Zoe asked.

“Not a day in my life.” Drew laughed and then shrugged at us. “What? It was a good story!”

Amelia covered her face in her hands. “Mom, he’s insane.”

“He’s right here,” Drew added and then shared a smile with me before giving me a confident nod.

He somehow knew that was what I needed.

I needed his nod to tell me to ask the question we’d come here to ask.

Was her cancer back?

Was she still in remission?

Was she going to be okay?

I started tapping my foot against the floor, almost unable to open my mouth as every zap of energy deflated from my body and shoved itself toward Amelia. She needed it more than I.

And I would die before she felt pain, sorrow, despair.

Let her have my strength.

I would be okay.

I always was.

Right?

“So…” Drew leaned his elbows onto his knees. “…I’m a fan of the Band-Aid method. What about you, Amelia?” He reached for her hand.

I watched in awe as she clung to it, took a deep breath, reached for mine, and then stared back at the doctor. “I’m ready.”

Zoe grinned. “It looks like you’re still in remission—”

Drew let out a curse of relief. I sagged against the chair, feeling I’d aged ten years, and tears welled in Amelia’s eyes.

“—but I would like to see you again later this year, say in about six months? Once we have a third positive that you’re in remission, we’ll move your appointments to a year. Now, I have something to ask you, and I need your permission to ask it in front of your mom. Drew, could you please—”

“He stays,” Amelia interrupted politely, shocking me into a stupor.

Drew seemed to grow taller in that moment as he shared a look with me that asked, “Are you sure this is okay?”

I smiled back at him.

“Are you sure?” Zoe asked. “Because, while your results came back fine, I’m a bit worried about some of the symptoms you expressed, feeling nauseated, loss of appetitive…”

“What are you asking?” Amelia said slowly.

Zoe gave her a professional smile. “Have you been sexually active perchance? I don’t want to insinuate that you’re pregnant or anything but—”

I could tell Drew was ready to scream “No!” at about the same time I let out a horrified gasp and prayed my baby wasn’t doing anything with Ryan.

There was a heavy awkwardness in the room. Drew suddenly looked ready to break the desk with his bare hands. Zoe had a frozen smile on her face. The only person who looked halfway normal was Amelia, mainly because we were all subject to an exaggerated eye roll before she answered.

After a huge shrug, Amelia shot Zoe a confident smile. “No, I’m not. I have super high expectations. You see, one of the biggest rockstars in the world is staying at our guest house. I met Zane last year. My brother’s going to be even more famous. I’m holding out for Dylan or Cole Sprouse.”

I exhaled in relief and Drew stopped white-knuckling his chair. “Good kids, good kids.” He nodded his approval. “I mean, I’m locking you in your room, but they aren’t the worst choices…” And then he spat. “Ryan…”

“Oh, how is Ryan? I didn’t know you guys were still dating!” Zoe grinned, clearly unaware of our repulsion of Ryan.

“You—” Drew coughed. “—know him?”

“He’s my nephew.” She beamed.

“How…” Drew’s eyes widened. “…special for you. Good kid, real smart too.”

Could his words come out any faster?

I held my laugh in while Amelia shot me a sidelong knowing look. It was almost painful watching Drew try to keep in his horror.

“He really is.” Zoe laughed. “I think he’s finally passing math.”

Drew gave a told-you-so side-eye to Amelia, causing her to snort out a laugh before she recovered and stared blankly ahead. “He’s doing awesome in creative writing too. Last week, he wrote a poem about aliens. It was amazing.”

“How sweet! You guys should keep hanging out.” Zoe stood.

Drew’s mouth formed a thin line.

“Yeah.” Amelia nodded politely. “Though I think he’s into one of my friends now.”

“Bummer,” Drew said quickly. “He’s such a good catch.”

His words dripped with sarcasm, but Zoe didn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah, well…” Zoe grinned. “…it’s just high school. Who knows what the future holds?”

“No Ryans,” Drew mouthed at me.

I covered my laugh with a cough and thanked Zoe. We kept straight faces until we made it to the elevator, and then Drew was the first to lose it.

“A GOOD CATCH?”

“Shhh!” I smacked him in the arm. “And he’s not that bad.”

“His poem was pretty good.” Amelia shrugged. “‘Aliens, aliens, visit me below, because right now, this planet’s got me feeling kinda low.’”

Drew gaped at her. “You’re. Shitting. Me.”

“Yup, I just wanted more money to go into Trevor’s swear jar,” She held out her hand. “Or you could just donate to the poor-high-school-kid fund and give Not-Your-Daughter some cash so she can leave you in peace and go hang out with her friends…”

His eyes narrowed. “This feels like bribery and extortion. It’s strange how okay I am with it since you gave me your mom’s yearbook this morning.”

“The world works in mysterious ways.” She moved her hand closer to his face.

He pulled out his wallet and handed her a crisp fifty-dollar bill. I almost swatted it out of her hand, but when I saw her eyes go wide as saucers, I realized she deserved some good after this scare.

“Don’t eat too much candy. You know how you get.” He winked.

She just stuck out her tongue, took the cash, and immediately grabbed her phone from her back pocket. “Promise.”

“And be home by curfew,” he added, then whispered under his breath, “What’s curfew again?”

“Eleven.” I grinned.

“Home by ten!” He jabbed a finger at her.

“Mommm!” She stomped her foot.

“Ten thirty.” He glared. “And no boys. They have thoughts.”

“This again.” She threw her hands in the air.

He mimicked her high voice “This again… yes, this again, because I’m a guy, and I was on tour with whores at your age—” He stopped talking then shot me an apologetic look. “Too much information?”

I just sighed and looked upward.

“Whores? Really?” Amelia asked.

“Never mind.” He pulled her in for a hug. “Hugs, not drugs, know your worth, kick boys in the balls hard enough to crunch something, and I’m not bailing you out of prison.”

“You’re not so bad at this whole… fake dad thing.” She looked away. I didn’t miss the sadness in her eyes, and then she was hugging both of us and jogging off as her friends pulled up in their Camry.

“They grow up so fast.” Drew elbowed me. “You did good, B.”

“Not doing so bad yourself, D. So what now?”

“Oh, I thought we could go eat our body weight in fries since it was your only life goal in high school… LITERALLY.”

“I was young!”

“Hey, it’s good to have goals. I mean, I wanted to be an astronaut, but whatever—”

I smacked him in the arm. “Just feed me.”

“Food or—”

“Drew.”

“Fine…” He opened my door, and before I could say anything else, he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Forehead kisses don’t count. They’re just proof that you’re special, that you’re safe.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “I needed that.”

“I think I did too,” he admitted.

I almost asked him to kiss me.

But I was afraid of what that kiss would mean.

Where it would lead.

I would want more.

And in five days, he was walking out my front door back to LA, back to his life, back to his fame.

And I would be left to pick up the pieces.

So, I got in the car, put on my seatbelt, and told myself that this was a time to get back to me, back to what made me happy, and I wasn’t going to be able to do that imagining coming home to Drew and having dinner.

Or walking down the aisle, into his arms.

CHAPTER 13

Andrew

I was going to die if she didn’t let me kiss her soon. I figured that the easiest way to drive her crazy with the same need I was struggling with was to find excuses to touch her.

A light shove here, a little crowding in tight spaces there.

An “Oh, how silly. Your hair was stuck to your lip-gloss. Let me get it” hair tuck.

An “Oops, sorry” brush of my hand against hers as we both reach for the salt.

A “Let me get that door for you and then place my hand on the small of your back, so you feel the heat from my palm and imagine it on your breasts” act of chivalry…

A shudder rippled through me. My imagination was really starting to get away from me, and she was so damn cute when she ate her fries that I almost threw them in the trash for betraying me and being allowed access to her mouth while I suffered with blue balls and a needy heart.

“So…” She popped another fry in her mouth. We were at one of my favorite spots right on the boardwalk, eating outside and people-watching. You could almost taste the salt in the air as the light breeze picked up and wrapped around both of us. A cluster of people walked by, followed by a sea of kids on bikes. It was a beautiful day for Seaside, and I was just praying the weather continued to stay like this, so my plan didn’t completely fall through.

A young waitress with jet black hair and black glasses stopped by and dropped off our food; she gave me a doubletake but thankfully didn’t ask for an autograph and left us in peace.

Small freaking favors.

“…what are we going to do today?”

I grinned. “I’m so glad you asked.”

Bronte’s eyes narrowed. “Well, that’s terrifying.”

“What is?”

“That.” She pointed her fry at me. “That smile on your face that just keeps growing the more I talk.”

“First of all, my smile’s sexy, not terrifying. Second, I’m supposed to help you let loose, find yourself, love yourself, be free—”

“I get the picture.” Her right eyebrow arched.

The second part of my plan was about to unfold. I flipped through her yearbook. “Let me just find it… Oh, there it is…” I cleared my throat. “Bronte, what’s one of your favorite childhood memories?” I smiled. “By the way, you were wearing my face in this picture. I think it was Celebrity Crush Day? Oh, my bad, just a Tuesday—”

Two fries went flying by my face. “You guys were like the One Direction of my teens, okay? Everyone wore your face!”

“Wish I could wear your face,” I grumbled and then winked. “Sorry, it slipped.”

“Can’t take you anywhere.” Hey, at least she was smiling.

“You would make my entire year if you told me you had the tin lunchbox with the Thermos of Will’s face. He had a zit that day, and they didn’t edit it out very well, so it was obvious. Poor guy was pissed for weeks and even more pissed when they sold out of them. I texted him the picture every Friday just to fuck with him.”

Bronte broke into laughter. “That’s mean.”

“Correction, that’s friendship.” My chest deflated as I realized I hadn’t spoken to him in a few days. Not just that, but things were still awkward. For both of us. It didn’t matter that we’d put aside our differences, or that we were adults now.

The chasm between us still wouldn’t fix, no matter how much we tried.

Bronte cleared her throat, bringing me back to the moment.

“I had the lunchbox,” she whispered quietly.”

My head shot up as I cupped my right ear. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

She glared. “I had the stupid lunchbox. I mean, I didn’t bring it to school, but…”

I scooted my chair closer to hers and leaned in. “Talk dirty to me— Do you still have it? Sleep with it under your pillow at night? Tell me you used to daydream about touching one of us…”

She moved her head closer until we were almost touching. “What makes you think my crush was you?”

I frowned and looked back at the yearbook then pointed to the picture. “My face. Your boobs. Any questions?”

I didn’t like the smile she was giving me; it felt sneaky. “I had all the shirts, and that one was gifted to me by one of my friends on my birthday so technically…”

“Technically, you’re still wearing my face.”

“Technically, my crush could have been one of the other guys.”

“By my calculations, it wasn’t Will. You know, because of the zit. I mean, who dates a guy with one zit? He’s basically a monster.”

She licked her lips, completely distracting me for a minute.

“And Trevor? Well, he was born a dad. Where’s the fun in that? I mean, not really but, Trevor was always the more serious one. And you say you like serious, but your body says something else completely, so he’s out.” I tapped my finger against her cheek — bonus for me, one more stolen touch. “And let’s be really honest. While Ty’s the clown of the group, he used to fart on his drumsticks because he thought it was funny. That shit made the news. So that leaves… me.”

“You…” She eyed my mouth for a brief second then glanced up. “…you could be… accurate.”

“Wanna know a secret, Bronte?”

“Sure.” She gulped.

“Had our places been reversed, I would have put your face on my walls too. I would have gone to every concert, sung every word, and I would have most likely written something horrifyingly embarrassing like Mr. Drew Connors on my Trapper Keeper because, even as a teen, I was all about equality, and why not take the woman’s name? It just marks you as hers, doesn’t it?”

Her eyes brightened, and then she leaned in and pressed the softest kiss I’d ever received to the corner of my mouth and then the other, and just when I thought I was going to die on the spot from want, she pressed that pouty mouth full-on against my lips.

I could write a hundred love songs based on that kiss.

On this moment.

I could break a million hearts over and over again talking about how her soft breath fanned my face, how her lips slid against mine, how her tongue darted out as if she was worried about deepening it, but then took the chance anyway and was rewarded over and over again as I dug my hands into her hair and kept her prisoner.

I never imagined a single kiss could alter the way you saw the world, but somehow, she’d just done that.

She’d made me want to sing.

And I’d never in my life had a kiss that inspired me to the point of breaking.

She pulled away too soon.

My hand dropped from her hair and cupped her face. “We’re going to do that again.”

Swollen pink lips tempted me beyond all reason as she ducked her head and laid it against my chest.

I held her there, wondering what the hell I could say that would convince her that this was so much more than a few fun days together, but I didn’t want to ruin anything. I didn’t want to scare her away, and I sure as hell didn’t want to ask for more of what I knew she might not be able to give.

“What makes you so sure?” she asked as I thumbed her lower lip; it was still wet from our kiss.

I brought my thumb to my mouth and gave it a slow lick. “Damn,” I said softly, “I can still taste you.”

“Fries and a margarita?” she teased, a bit breathless.

“Nah, what I taste is all you.” I sighed and then leaned back. “I don’t know what I did to deserve that little gift you just gave me. Don’t suppose you’ll tell me so I can make sure to do it again.”

Bronte smiled and crossed her legs. “That’s easy… you were just being you.”

My chest tightened.

If she knew…

Really knew the guy I used to be.

The guy I was trying like hell to forgive.

She’d probably run in the other direction.

“And then…” She tilted her head. “…you go and give me this pained expression as if being yourself isn’t enough.”

I sighed. “Sometimes, I’m afraid it’s not. Not when being myself means carrying at least two tons of baggage I can’t seem to get rid of.”

“Hmm, seems like you need to just stop long enough to toss it to the ground, realize it’s slowing you down, and move on.”

“That—” I suddenly wanted to change the subject, but something about her made me want to confess. “—that’s the hard part, Bronte. People talk about baggage all the time, how heavy it is, how hard it is. It’s not the heaviness that gets me. It’s not even the annoying fact that those things are all still there because those are what made me the man I am today. The hard part is stopping. The hard part is knowing you don’t deserve to toss the bags to the ground. No, your punishment is that the minute you toss them to the ground, you realize the reason you picked them up in the first place wasn’t out of pain but from so much guilt that the heaviness is deserved. Why the fuck should I have a reward for my own shittiness?”

Her eyes locked on mine, and she didn’t even blink. “Do you truly believe that you deserve to be punished?”

“Yeah,” I croaked, “I do.” I stood and pulled out my wallet, tossing a few bills on the table. “And if you knew me, you would too.”

“Don’t insult me,” she snapped. “What if that’s my thing?”

“What?”

“Like singing’s your thing. What if that’s mine.”

“What?” I asked again. “What do you mean?”

“What if my thing is that I’m really good at helping unpack.” She stood with me and reached for my hand.

The guilt made me want to pull away.

But her understanding smile made me cling to her in a way that was almost embarrassingly needy.

And then I was tugging her against my chest and kissing her again, gently, thoroughly.

“What was that for?” she whispered against my lips.

“That was for you… being you.”

I felt her smile across my lips.

“All right, I was about to tell you my plans before all the kissing. Anyway, your favorite childhood memory, you remember it?”

“Hmm, one of your concerts, Mr. Arrogant?”

“Aw…” I pressed a palm to my chest. “…I’m touched, but no, you said horseback riding, so guess what we’re doing.” I clapped my hands together a few times while her eyes widened with excitement. “That expression right there is what I was going for. Let’s do this!”

“We’re going riding?” She released a shrill whoop.

I looped my arm in hers. “Yes, you can give me a thank-you kiss when we’re on the horse. And for the record, I’m terrified of one animal beyond all reason.”

She winced. “Birds?”

“No, that’s Demetri, the guy from AD2. Honest to God, saw him crawl into a trashcan one time to avoid one flying at least twenty feet away from him.”

She scrunched up her nose. “He really shouldn’t live in Seaside.”

“My favorite is when his wife leaves the windows open and puts bread crumbs on the windowsills. Last Christmas, I think he cried. He said his eyes were burning from cutting onions, but… there were tears.”

Her burst of laughter made her stagger sideways for a couple of steps. Then she righted herself and captured me in a happy stare. “Okay, I give up. What are you afraid of?”

“Take this to your grave, Bronte Connors, but…” I lowered my voice. “Horses, I’m petrified of horses.”

She stopped walking. “We don’t have to do this.”

“Oh, but we do, because they’re about to come around the corner in three, two, one…” I pointed just as a horse and its rider came around the corner. The owner gave us a cheerful wave.

It took every masculine bone in my body to keep my feet rooted to the ground. I stiffened as the animal got closer.

And then Bronte stood up on her tiptoes and whispered in my ear, “Conquer your fears, and I may just let you conquer me…”

I groaned out a curse. “One horse, one rider.”

“One horse, two riders…” She patted me on the shoulder. “You can do it. Just think of what you might get from me.”

I narrowed my eyes down at her. “I’m gonna need specifics before I scream like a middle school girl at an Adrenaline concert because it’s getting closer, isn’t it? I can smell it. Shit, I can smell the horse. Do horses smell fear? DOES IT KNOW?”

“Kissing…” She gave a gentle laugh. “Touching…”

I relaxed a bit.

“And…” Her cheeks pinked. “…remember that song from your last album that people compared to John Mayer’s Wonderland?”

“It’s better and yes,” I said, and then my body swayed toward her. “You mean, I get to lick between those gorgeous thighs of yours?”

“That wasn’t in the song,” she pointed out, but her breathing quickened ever so slightly, and her cheeks pinked.

“Made a new verse in my head, artists do that. It’s a thing, promise. I also added a blow job, seven sexual positions of my choosing, ten minutes where I get to just stare at you naked, and seventeen orgasms throughout a twenty-four-hour period.”

She gaped. “You’re insane!”

“Scared. I’m scared. I babble when I’m scared.”

She sighed. “Maybe. Just get on the damn horse.”

“And then I can get on you?”

“Do you always take the romance out of sex?”

“Um… I’ve been celibate for three years. Don’t judge me.”

Her eyes went wide.

I sighed. “Did I forget to mention I blurt things out when I’m scared? No? Well, just feel free to put in some earplugs before I start confessing things like how I stroked myself in the shower thinking about your lips and—”

“Drew Amhurst?” Dave, the guy I rented the horse from, got off it like he’d been born to play a cowboy.

He stared at Bronte longer than I liked and seemed unfazed by my death glare in his direction. He wore tight Wranglers, and damn, he even had a nice ass.

I had half a mind to shove Bronte behind me.

“Yup, that’s me, so do we just…” I gulped. “…get on?”

He chuckled. “I can give you a lift if you want.”

“I’ll lift her.” Don’t touch her, you piece of shit! Killing him after I kill Ryan apparently. “You ready, B?” I felt my body sway a bit.

“Yes!” She bounced up on her feet and then put a foot in one stirrup, threw her leg over, and grabbed the reins. “Whoa, boy…”

“Kinda makes you wanna be a horse, don’t it?” Dave chuckled.

“You have no idea,” I grumbled and handed him a hundred-dollar bill. “We’ll be back in two hours. Is everything in the pack?”

He patted the pack strapped behind the horse. “All here.”

“Cool. I’ve got my cell.”

“Great.” His brown eyes twinkled.

“So, I’ll just… hop…” I gulped. “…h-hop right on.”

“Aw, Will’s not so bad!”

“Will? I’m riding a Will?” Could this moment be any more embarrassing? Now my thighs were going to be clenching around a horse named Will?

What were the odds?

“Hi, Will.” My voice cracked.

Honest to God, the horse looked back at me and glared.

“Shit.” I cursed and then put my foot in the same stirrup Bronte had and threw my massive awkward body onto the horse.

It grunted.

Shut the hell up, Will!

“You gonna make it?” Bronte looked over her shoulder.

I scooted closer to her, then pulled her against me, right where I wanted her, and let out a pitiful needy groan. “I’m either gonna die from fear or lust. But the truth remains, I will die.”

Laughter shook her shoulders. “Don’t be a baby. Let’s go!”

“If you gallop, I’m never speaking to you again.”

“What about trotting?”

“That’s a no. Let’s just plan for a calm, easy cadence—” The horse took off in a slow trot. I wasn’t proud of the way I hugged Bronte or the fact that I had my eyes closed to start.

And then as the horse moved, I realized I was going to have a bigger problem than dying of lust or fear.

Each movement had her ass pressed against my dick.

Yeah, I would die today.

“Farewell, cruel world,” I grumbled under my breath.

“What?” Bronte called.

“If I don’t get sex out of this, I’m ending our friendship.”

She laughed as if I was kidding.

And my dick cried as if it was going to fall off.

CHAPTER 14

Bronte

I was being punished.

Or maybe rewarded?

However you looked at it, I felt Drew everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. How did my life turn out like this? One day I was a lonely divorced mom, and the next I was a divorced mom with a hot-as-hell rockstar clinging to me as if his life depended on it and a very large part of him pushing into me every few seconds.

Torture.

I mean, I knew he was packing.

But this?

I squirmed on the saddle as the wind picked up and tickled my face. I squirmed again, and it only made the horse neigh as it moved along the white sand.

Nothing was helping to ease my ache or tap down my wild imagination about how it would be with him.

The fact he’d admitted that it had been three years actually made me want to climb him like a tree. I was barely able to restrain myself. I dug my nails into my palms to keep from reaching for him and asking him to make sweet love to me on the boardwalk with pedestrians skateboarding by.

“Everything okay?” Drew’s lips touched my ear.

They tickled and tempted while I white-knuckled the reins.

“Yeah,” I croaked. “Great, just enjoying the view.”

And the feel of him pressed against my ass.

His muscled forearms pushed hard against my stomach as his hands splayed out across my shirt and, a few seconds later, inched up and cupped my breasts.

I froze.

“Sorry, I just needed something to focus on, so I don’t cry like a little girl.” He chuckled.

“So you chose my boobs?” I didn’t hate it but didn’t want him to think it was that easy.

Every single nerve ending in my body was on high alert as his thumbs grazed across each breast as if he was memorizing their weight, their feel.

“They’re heavy,” he rasped. “And I’m imagining how damn good they would feel bare against my palm.”

I squirmed again.

“Felt that.” He chuckled. “Why don’t you find a nice, private spot for us to set up camp?”

“Camp?” I asked, confused.

“Picnic, actually,” he clarified. God, why did even his voice sound sexy? Was that rasp because of me, or had it always been there? “That’s a good spot over there.” One of his hands left my breast as he pointed toward a secluded area near one of the bluffs. Water crashed against the cliff next to it, giving the best view of the ocean spray as it made a continuous motion that was almost hypnotizing to watch.

“Okay.” I found my voice and directed the horse over to the spot. Every single second in that saddle was sweet torture. Drew’s smell, the feel of him, his very hard-to-ignore erection — everything about him was consuming me to the point of madness. I was dizzy with attraction and more afraid of drowning in him than I was of drowning in the ocean.

“You want to get down first?” Drew asked, again in my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt all over my body. I held back the shiver it caused, but just barely. What was wrong with me? Was it because I was sitting so close to him? All these times, there had been this physical barrier I didn’t even realize I’d put there, and now that we had touched for a solid twenty minutes, it was all I could think about.

“Bronte?” His warm chuckle interrupted my lust-filled thoughts. “Are you okay? Because I’m a minute away from launching my body toward the sand. Will keeps staring back at me, and I’m afraid he bites.”

I jerked my head to the side, nearly colliding with his mouth. “Sorry. Yeah, I’ll get off first.”

His smirk was deadly. “Thinking a lot of thoughts?”

I gulped. “No… yes. I, uhhh…” My eyes lowered; I couldn’t help it.

Damn, the man was packing. It was all I could seem to focus on.

Slowly, he licked his lips and then palmed himself and shrugged. “It can’t be helped, and I’m probably going to imagine this moment in my life over and over again and question my own sanity at being able to actually keep my hands for the most part to myself when all I kept imagining was stripping you naked with my bare teeth and impaling you against the saddle.” He sighed.

I gaped. “I don’t really know if I should be offended, insulted, or just straight-up turned on by what you just said.”

His eyes lowered to my chest. “Well, at least your body knows best.”

I instantly crossed my arms as my nipples tingled.

“Cold?” He winked.

I smacked him on the leg then started getting off the horse, throwing my other leg over and mourning the loss of his heat as if I would never get to experience it again.

When my feet hit the sand, Drew started making his dismount, but apparently, Will was angry about something or just sensed Drew’s fear; he shook his head and then looked back and bared his teeth at his petrified rider.

Drew held up his hands, his eyes wide. “Oh, shit.”

I reached for Will’s face and started rubbing his fur. “It’s okay, boy. He’s just scared of you because you’re bigger than him.”

Drew snorted. “Helpful. Tell him how big he is so he can crush me!”

I laughed while Will neighed and tapped his hoof against the sand. Adorable. How could anyone be afraid of such a sweetie?

“Just get off slowly. You’re heavier than I am,” I instructed, still petting Will’s fur.

Drew grumbled under his breath and moved again. “Can you touch me like that?”

“You want me to pet your face?”

His voice lowered. “I want you to pet something.” And then he somehow managed to half fall off the horse onto his ass in the sand.

He bit out a curse and glared at both of us as if it was my fault he’d fallen.

“Graceful.” I laughed.

He jabbed a finger in my direction. “I was distracted by all the petting talk.”

“So distracted that you couldn’t even get off Will?”

“What can I say? You’re beautifully distracting. Hey, I have an idea. You should probably bring those hands over here along with that mouth so I can start getting my reward.”

I gave Will one last stroke and walked over to Drew, holding my hand out to him to help him up, but instead of getting up, he pulled me down like I weighed nothing, right onto his lap. My legs wrapped around his body as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“There.” His lips touched mine. “That’s so much better.”

I cupped his face with my hands. “What are we doing?”

“Kissing.” His lips moved across mine briefly before pulling back. “And next, we’re going to kiss some more, and then I’m going to pour you some pre-birthday champagne, and then we’re going to talk about all the ways I’m going to taste you tonight when we’re back at the house, you know, after Not-My-Daughter’s in bed.”

I could literally feel him throbbing against me. We were alone near the bluff — I mean, if you didn’t count Will who seemed to be ignoring us altogether.

“And if I say no?”

“Your words say one thing. Your eyes say something else entirely. Let me give you a present…”

“A present.” I grinned. “Let me guess. Your present is…” I rolled my hips against him.

His mouth parted; he let out the most sexual moan I’d ever heard in my entire life. Like lighting a fire then dousing it in kerosene, there was no stopping the explosion.

I never knew a moan could do that to people.

Make them nearly fall apart in one-point-two seconds.

All because that moan promised more… and more… with ultimate satisfaction in the process.

“I was going to say me,” Drew said. “But that works too if you want me to get sexual about it.” His forehead touched mine. “B… I’ve never really given myself to anyone, except for the girl who broke my heart and married my ex-best friend, but even then, it wasn’t…” He heaved a shaky sigh. “This… this thing between us… It feels real. It feels different. You’ve given me only days, and already I’m drowning. Every single time I’m tempted to swim up out of fear of losing myself in the dark depths of what this is, you pull me back under, and I remember why I’m drowning in the first place. It’s because of you. It’s for you. And I just need you to know that right here, in this moment, I would do anything for you, be anything you need me to be. I just want you, Bronte. And I want you to want me.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “I’m scared of how much I want you.”

“Then we’ll be scared together.”

“A famous rockstar… scared?” I teased.

He locked his eyes on mine. “I’ve never been more terrified. And Will looks like he might murder me in my sleep.”

I smiled and kissed him again and then again. I lost all track of time as our lips slid against one another, as his hands dove into my hair and tugged. He didn’t feel famous in that moment.

He felt like Drew.

A guy I was falling for.

A guy I wished I had met back when my heart was fully functioning. Now all I had were scattered pieces that would never really fit like they used to.

But maybe that was why we were attracted to one another.

Maybe my pieces could fit with his.

Maybe it wasn’t about fixing what was broken and then handing it over; maybe it was about merging our pieces into one.

Drew’s tongue invaded my mouth, it took over the kiss to the point of pain and pleasure, and everything mixed in between as I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

The ocean ceased to exist.

The sand.

The world around us faded away, leaving only this punishing kiss, this molding of two mouths, two messy hearts, and wandering hands.

He pulled back first, a look of awe on his chiseled face. “If we don’t stop, I’m going to get sand in places no man should get sand, and nothing on this damn earth will stop me.”

I licked my lips, loving that I tasted him there, wanting to sample more of him, everywhere. “Do we have to?”

He groaned and looked away, blowing air out of his swollen lips. “You’re killing me, and self-control isn’t even close to one of my strong suits. Obviously.”

“And yet you’ve been doing so well,” I teased.

He scoffed. “Do you even know the thoughts I’ve been having about you? The stolen glances? The sleepless nights?”

“It’s been two days.”

“It’s been too long,” he countered. “And every night when I lay down, I wonder if it would be crossing a line to crawl into your bed and watch you sleep, and then I’m like, ‘Oh shit. Stop sounding creepy,’ so I lie there and stare at the ceiling and wonder if you’re thinking about me the same time I’m thinking about you.”

“I am. I do,” I said shyly. “I just don’t know how to do this, what this even—”

“Shh…” He put a finger to my lips. “Just exist right now, and we’ll figure out the rest later.”

“Will we, though?”

He shrugged. “All you can do is give it today, and when you’re blessed with another day, give that day too. You give all your days over and over again, and before you know it — you’re living.”

I pressed a small kiss to his mouth. “For a rockstar, you’re pretty wise.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, well, you have to mess up about a billion times then to get as wise as this.”

He slowly helped me off his body. I shifted my gaze to the side and tried not to stare at his jeans, at the obvious arousal showing beneath them after our make-out session. Not possible, since my eyes kept wandering back.

“Keep staring, and I’m going to strip you naked in front of the horse.” He adjusted himself and winced. “Do you even realize how bad I ache for you?”

I chewed my bottom lip and then crooked my finger at him. “I have an idea.”

“Does it involve me eating some sort of food object off your body?”

I gave in to the laughter bubbling up. “Um… no, but it does involve your body.”

“I’m listening.” He crossed his arms.

“There’s a cave…” I pointed. “…right over there. We could tie up Will next to the—”

He launched himself at me so quickly that I couldn’t finish my next sentence. His mouth crushed mine in a fast and savage kiss before he pulled back, grabbed Will’s reins without having a panic attack, and said. “Where’s the cave?”

I’d never seen a man move that speedy in my entire life as he ran with the horse next to him to the cave, tied the reins around one of the rocks — as if that would really stop Will if he wanted to escape — and grabbed the bag from the saddle.

In seconds, he had a blanket in hand, a bottle of champagne and two plastic flutes, and was setting up camp inside the cave.

“Please God, tell me I didn’t almost get murdered by that horse to just sit in here and make out with you.”

I pulled my shirt over my head, terrified he was going to say something about the fact that my body wasn’t model thin, horrified that he was going to see the scar from my appendix, or that he would notice the way my skin wasn’t as tight as it used to be.

Instead, he cursed and pulled me into his arms, tossing my shirt onto the sand and showing his expertise at bra-unhooking before devouring me in another kiss.

He pinned me against the side of the cave; the rock wall dug into my ass, but I barely felt it as I worked him free from his jeans with one hand and clung to his neck with my other.

His mouth opened against mine in a dizzying pant as I gripped him.

Drew moaned against my neck. “I’m seconds away from embarrassing myself.”

“You should let me go then.” I grinned.

A disappointed look flashed across his handsome face before he very slowly released his hold.

The minute I had freedom, I released him and got on my knees.

“Holy f—”

As I slid my lips over him and sheathed his cock with my mouth, hips pumped into my touch as if he couldn’t help it. He was almost too big, not that I was complaining, as I teased and tasted him, sucked him, and wondered how in the world I had come to this place.

In a cave I used to visit in high school, wishing that someone like Drew Amhurst would come rescue me, to actually tasting him on my tongue and driving him wild.

“Bronte, I—” He panted and bit out another curse. “—I don’t know how long I can last. I’m seriously—” He cursed again. “I don’t even know my name right now.”

I took him deep, using my tongue to press him against the roof of my mouth and sucking hard as I drew back a few inches before repeating the motions.

He tried to push me away, but I tightened my lips, dug my fingers into his ass, and then stayed put as he spent three years of celibacy and groaned so loud that the cave almost shook with it.

His eyes were glassy when I looked up, and then, still panting, he was pulling me to my feet. Before I could say anything, I was tossed over his shoulder and then gently laid down on the blanket.

He flicked open my jeans with one hand then tugged both them and my panties together down to my ankles. His hungry look devoured me whole as he whispered in that same sexy rasp. “You ready for orgasm number one?”

“Out of how many was it again?” My voice was quivering. I was shaking from fear, from lust, from what I’d just done.

From what he was about to do.

“Seventeen in twenty-four hours.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal when I’d never even had one with my ex.

“That’s a lot.”

His grin was wicked. “I’m an overachiever. What can I say? And I really, really, really want to make you scream.”

I gulped. “Don’t be insulted if I don’t.”

“Don’t be embarrassed when you do,” he fired back, and then, without any warning, his palm was on me, followed by his mouth, and I, Bronte Connors, lasted all but thirty glorious seconds.

CHAPTER 15

Andrew

I was in love.

Epically.

Terrifyingly.

In love with the way she tasted, with the way she laughed, the way she licked— Shit, I was already in so deep.

The sound of my name on her lips was going to the top of my list as my favorite sound in the world, right next to the sound of her orgasm.

I still had, what? Sixteen to give? And the only reason I didn’t do more was because of the way she’d looked at me when I was done tasting her.

It was fear.

And the last thing I wanted was for her to be afraid of the raw feelings between us or the way I made her respond.

My body was still shaking from the taste of her on my lips. Hell, my tongue kept darting out in a desperate attempt to find more of her taste only to come back empty.

After getting her clothes back to rights, I popped the champagne, handed her a glass, and whispered, “Bet you didn’t realize you could scream that loud.”

She took the champagne and blushed. “Maybe I’m just easy.”

I snorted. “Nothing about you is easy, trust me. I feel like I’m going to have to give you a kidney or something in order to feast again.”

She frowned. “Feast?”

I licked my lips. “Feast.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but she blushed harder and threw back the champagne in one gulp.

“Impressive.” I sipped mine and then set it down. Champagne and cider were about the only alcoholic beverages that didn’t have memories of needles, pills, and powder.

I shuddered.

“Thank you,” she whispered as another wave rocked against the cliff. “For not making me feel… awkward.”

Did she even realize how stunning she was? From her dark hair and full lips to her always-wide eyes, as if she was constantly trying to take in the beauty of the world. I was struggling to just take in her beauty. “I’d like to think that I’ll get rewarded for being on my best behavior.”

She held out her glass for more with a little smirk. “Maybe you will.”

I pressed a kiss to her cheek and growled against it. “Promise?”

She didn’t say anything, but her sigh and body language had already told me I might have a bit of a fight on my hands later that night. No problem. I was prepared for an all-out sensual assault.

And I was only taking one prisoner.

Her.

“Thank you… for this.” She tilted her head and then ran her free hand through my hair as if she was curious as if she wanted to comfort me. Or maybe just touch me?

I went still and let her roam, and then I took the plastic champagne flute from her hand and held it.

The best part of my day was that she let me.

That she didn’t pull away.

That she gave off the impression that this was more than a fling for her too as she laid her head on my shoulder and said, “One day, I want to hear about that baggage.”

“One day,” I whispered, “I’ll tell you.”

“Not today?”

I licked my suddenly dry lips. “I don’t want to ruin the best few moments of my life with my darkness. It’s never fun when you invite your demons out to play.”

“We could make it fun if you let me fight them.”

“Small, but packs a punch?” I guessed.

She looked up at me with those accepting, incredible eyes. “I’m scrappy. I’d win, and I’m beginning to think that I’d kill anything that tried to pull you down when you, Drew Amhurst, were meant to fly.”

She looked away.

So, she didn’t see the tears well in my eyes.

She was too far away to feel the way my heart pounded heavy in my chest.

And she didn’t know that with those poignant words — with that promise —that one of the bags I’d been carrying, the one that said, You’re worthless, fell from my body and was left in the dust.

We talked a bit more then rode stupid Will back to Dave, who still refused to look at Bronte like a person and not his next meal.

I was blasted with numerous calls from Skye, which I ignored, and texts from the guys asking about when I was coming back into the studio.

I’d been MIA for two days, and last time I had been missing… well, it wasn’t exactly a favorite memory, so they were probably worried.

So, before I showered the horse off me, I decided the guys needed an update on everything. They were going to give me hell, but at least they’d know I hadn’t spiraled with a bottle of Jack and line of coke.

No, my new addiction was Bronte, and I knew she would be impossible to quit.

I tapped the group text.

Me: I rode Will today.

Trevor responded right away.

Trevor: Does his wife know?

Will: THE HELL YOU DID! Wait; what? Did you mean to type that? Guys, I swear I was home all afternoon.

Ty: Laaaammmmeeeeee, and cool, bro, you do you!

I laughed. Of course, Ty would say that. The guys from the band AD2 who lived here too hadn’t responded yet, but I would put my money on Zane saying something next.

Zane: First, he can’t come up with any songs, and now he’s riding Will. I think we saw this coming, guys. Let’s be honest. Bro swinging both ways, not a bad thing, means you have more fish in the sea!

Will: For the last time. I. Was. Home.

Ty: So he came to you, then?

Zane: I have such an inappropriate response to what Ty just said.

Ty: Why else would I type it? I was baiting you, and you didn’t even take it! Being an adult has changed you, bro.

Me: As much fun as it was to scare Will shitless, I rode a horse named Will with Bronte today. And I didn’t die!

Will: Bummer.

Me: I’m flipping you off with both hands right now.

Will: I knew I felt some negative energy somewhere… :)

Me: Do you even know how hard it was to get on that thing?

Zane: Gotta be hard to be good… just sayin’.

Will: Oh shit. You hate horses! You cried at the fair when we were sixteen!

Me: Awesome, bring up my trauma.

Ty: I bought you a pretzel to make you feel better.

Trevor: Wait, didn’t you end up in the hospital?

I sighed and typed back, but before I could send, Demetri and Alec both chimed in.

Alec: This may be my favorite text exchange ever. Do tell how he ended up in the hospital after eating a pretzel, and you do know that horses are gentle creatures, right?

Demetri: It’s like I finally discovered I wasn’t alone in the world…

Me: Settle down, bird-hater. This is way different. Birds are small. Horses are big. And instead of hiding in a damn trashcan or shitting myself, I got on the beast and rode it like a fucking knight of the Round Table.

Braden had been added to the conversation…

Braden: I’m so glad I was added so I can send this…

He attached a picture of me clutching the reins without Bronte, riding, pale as a ghost, with the most awkward look on my face.

Demetri: Bro, that’s more white, puny, scared knight than Round Table, just in case you weren’t aware.

Will: Saving this picture…

Alec: Can we go back to the pretzel?

Trevor: He’s allergic to peanut butter, and it was next to one of the peanut butter cookies with peanut butter frosting. Got all over the pretzel. He shoved it in his mouth because, according to young Drew, pretzels are the shit. His face puffed up so bad he looked like a balloon.

Will: I, too, saved that picture.

Me: Don’t make me send you. The. Picture.

Will: Send it, and I will CHOKE YOU!

Ty: Send it, send it, send it.

Braden: What picture?

I clicked send and grinned.

It was the picture of Will with his zit on the Thermos in all his glory.

Zane: Can I just say I love our group chats? I’m adding in Jaymeson.

Jaymeson was added to this conversation.

Jaymeson: THE HELL would you add me to this insane group after I begged to be taken off last time? Oh shit, is that the Thermos picture? LOL LOL LOL nevermind, proceed.

Zane: See? You’re welcome, world!

Will: WHY DOES THIS STILL EXIST IN THE UNIVERSE??

Me: The internet doesn’t forget.

Trevor: So… now that we have you, when are you coming in to the studio?

I shifted on my feet and texted back.

Me: I’ll come in tonight or tomorrow night, depends on a few things…

Alec: A few things?

Demetri: Dude, what could possibly keep you from recording? It’s Seaside.

Me: Calm your bird feathers.

Alec: Last time you told him that he puked.

Demetri: Lie.

Braden: He means my mom. Once he figures stuff out with my mom — BTW, this is me not asking questions because I gave you my word and because in the other pictures, she looks the happiest I’ve seen her, but I’m mentally cleaning my guns.

Zane: BACK THE HELL UP.

Alec: WHAT?

Demetri: BRB. Grabbing popcorn.

Will: What don’t we know?

Ty: Hahahaha. Braden’s mom has got it going on.

Braden: Killing Ty first.

Jaymeson: That’s some serious game, going after Braden’s mom. It’s also ridiculously stupid, so why am I not surprised? It’s Drew. The universe, it seems, planned this.

Braden: Long story short, we wanted to go on a quick honeymoon since the tour starts up again in two weeks. My mom has NEVER spent her birthday and anniversary alone, and while she and Amelia are close, it’s always been me who does everything, and well, somehow — and I wasn’t even inebriated, so who knows? — I agreed to let Drew help my mom find her groove. She’s been lonely. He’s had a stupid crush on her since meeting her when he signed me, and because I love her THAT much and see the way she looks at him, I said yes. I regret it every second of every day.

Me: Wait, wait, wait, how does she look at me?

Ty: OMG, Drew, do you think that she maybe likes you?

Zane: Bro, I can write her a note. Let me just grab my college-lined paper and a number two pencil. BRB.

Jaymeson: This has disaster written all over it: Can I have movie rights?

Alec: I would watch this movie.

Demetri: Disaster Movie, produced and directed by Jamie Jaymeson. The true story of how a washed-up rockstar falls in love with his protégé’s mom and ends up tragically killed by the protégé as he seeks his revenge after hot mom’s heart breaks.

I was suddenly extremely uncomfortable with this conversation.

Me: Guys, I promised Braden no details. Stop giving me shit. I like her, okay?

Trevor: Like, like like her? Or just sort of like her?

Me: FU

Will: I think it’s good.

I nearly choked on my spit.

Me: Uh… I literally don’t know how to respond to that. Are you being serious or sarcastic?

Will: I’m serious. She’d be good for Drew. She’s hot — No offense, Braden — and we’re all the same ages or close to it. It’s not like she’s a cougar. She just got started early on kids.

Braden: Not by choice, man. My dad’s a piece of work.

Me: My turn to kill someone.

Braden: I got dibs.

Me: Fair. I’ll be your second.

Jaymeson: Are you guys dueling or killing?

Demetri: I just imagined Jaymeson saying that in his British accent, and it made me laugh.

Alec: Oh, did you? LOL.

Demetri: Shut it.

Zane: As much as I tease, I think I agree with Will on this one. They would look good together and Drew, at least, now that he’s no longer a drug addict, knows how to treat a woman right.

Me: Thanks for that…

Will: Hey, at least you aren’t alone in that confession. Raise your hand in this group text if you’ve been clean your whole life.

Braden: I raised my hand.

Zane: Sit down, young protégé. I, too, raised my hand. But to be fair, the whole facade was that I did cocaine with strippers so… putting hand back down.

Will: Exactly.

Jaymeson: All right, I gotta run. I have a pair of five-year-old twins who just got really quiet, and it’s not because we’re on set.

Demetri: I just shuddered on your behalf.

Trevor: May the force be with you, and may no Legos exist on your chosen path.

Me: Amen.

Ty: Legos are the devil.

Zane: It only takes one to crush your soul. What else can you say that about?

Demetri: Birds?

Me: Horses?

Braden: You guys are weird.

I checked the time.

Me: OK, I gotta go. I’ll text when I’m getting ready to go record.

Zane: And may the odds be ever in your favor as you try to seduce Braden’s mom.

Ty: Blessings, child.

Braden: Could we not encourage him?

Will: He never needs encouragement to whip it out.

Braden: LA LA LA LA LA LA LA. I didn’t see that.

Me: He’s not wrong…

Trevor: And on that note.

Me: Guys, I have some good songs ready, I promise. I just want to spend as much time with her alone as possible, without Braden breathing fire down my neck. Plus, she’s inspiring me.

Ty: Yeah, she is… haha.

Braden: Sigh.

Demetri: Good luck, bro.

Alec: Don’t crash and burn, and when all else fails — flowers.

Ty: Wise words.

Me: Thanks.

I tossed my phone on the bed and smiled, not because my friends and bandmates were hilarious idiots, but because Will, somehow, believed in me.

And I had proof he’d said it.

My smile didn’t last long. As I stared down at my screen, it lit up with Skye’s name. I really needed to get a new number, but I’d been so distracted with Bronte, and I didn’t want to have to take any time away from her.

I ignored the number.

And the sinking feeling in my gut. But as I walked into the shower and tried to rinse the smell of fear off my body, slowly my grin returned. Maybe things were looking up.

And tonight… I was calling in all the favors from Bronte.

I had ridden a horse for her.

And now?

Now I was going to propose a different sort of riding.

CHAPTER 16

Bronte

I stared down at the alert on my screen. I’d been home for maybe one hour. Had fixed dinner for Amelia and for Drew, who said he was going to shower before he graced me with his presence.

My birthday was tomorrow.

Forty.

Hands shaking, I set the phone down and tried to focus on the positive. Maybe I’d travel? Maybe I’d pick up a hobby? Start running with Amelia?

The worst part was I didn’t feel forty.

I still felt in my twenties, just exploring life and learning. I wondered if every parent felt like a fraud as if they were just winging it.

I felt like that every single day and sometimes wondered how my kids had ended up okay, despite all my multiple failings as a mom.

My reflection stared back at me via the oven. My cheekbones were high, my jaw sculpted, and while curvy, I still had an okay body. Nevertheless, I frowned at my reflection, wondering what he saw in me.

Why did my insecurities always come back to haunt me? Was it because my ex had never wanted me in the first place? Was it because he’d abandoned us without a second glance until his son got famous? Any time a man measured your worth and found you wanting, it was impossible not to feel the effects.

So, if my normal high school boyfriend hadn’t deemed me worthy…

Why in the hell would Drew?

Part of me wanted to find an answer for it because if I had a reason that actually made sense, I wouldn’t be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Today had been too perfect for words.

I wanted a million todays.

And I couldn’t imagine tomorrow getting any better unless I woke up in his arms, but that was the problem. I was afraid of giving that last part of myself to him. What if he really did leave? What if this was seven days of him just being generous, and years from now, we’d meet at different concerts or events, and I’d see him with another woman? Or multiple women? What if he settled down at got married?

I had so many things I wanted to say.

Questions.

Insecurities.

And that was when I felt him.

He was standing right behind me; his tattooed arms wrapped tight around me as he rested his chin on my head. “Thinking all the thoughts?”

I wondered if he realized how captivating he was, even when he wasn’t trying. His arms felt safe, he smelled like heaven, and I kept imagining our moment in the cave… over and over again. “Maybe.”

“You made food.” His grin mirrored mine in the oven. “Does this mean I get to partake?”

“Mmm, maybe.”

“Where’s Amelia?”

“At the movies.”

He stilled, his body tensing around mine. “So… we’re alone?”

“Yeah, but—”

He spun me around in his arms, and before I knew what was happening, he was lifting me onto the kitchen counter, spreading my legs, stepping into my personal space, and kissing the hell out of me.

Was he never satisfied?

A groan erupted from his lips as he dug his fingers into my ass.

No. Apparently, the answer was no.

“Can’t get enough of you,” he said between kisses. “Want to earn whatever smells so ridiculously amazing. Can I trade orgasms for food?”

I laughed, my lips parting just enough for him to swoop in. His tongue tasted like minty toothpaste, but his mouth was hot. I had no idea how he learned how to kiss like this, but I wasn’t complaining.

Every girl grew up dreaming about her favorite star finding her, kissing her.

I was doing exactly that.

The sound of his phone going off filled the empty kitchen.

“Ignore it.” He kissed me deeper.

The ringing stopped and then started all over again.

He jerked away and cursed, yanking his phone out of his pocket and paling as he stared at the screen.

“Everything okay?”

He was quiet and then, “Yeah, I just… I need to take this soon, and then I need to punch something or get very, very drunk.”

I tensed up.

He smirked. “Kidding, I’m not going to spiral. Don’t worry. I just keep getting sidetracked and really need to change my number. And speaking of numbers, spiraling, and my job, wanna come to the studio tonight?”

My inner fangirl screamed. “The studio studio?”

With a sexy grin, he pulled me into his embrace and kissed my nose. “Think you can handle hanging out with a few washed-up rockstars while we record?”

On the outside, I was the epitome of cool.

On the inside, I was wearing my Drew Amhurst T-shirt, chugging Mountain Dew out of my Will Thermos and, painting an Adrenaline sign to hold while I screamed at the top of my lungs and sang every song by heart.

“Sure.” I managed a normal-looking — I hoped — shrug, though my voice sounded strained. “That could be… fun.”

Drew smirked and tilted my chin up toward him. “It’s so cute how hard you try…”

“Try?”

“…to stay calm,” he rasped, capturing my mouth in another rewarding kiss.

He had this way of kissing that I’d never experienced before. His lips slid from mine to my chin then my neck, and I was gripping the countertop with one hand, and his shoulder with the other as the pressure of his mouth nipped at my collarbone.

My head fell back.

And then both of his hands were on my hips, lifting my shirt just enough to expose some skin. “Is that a yes?”

What were we even talking about?

“Yes.” Was it even possible to say no to him? About anything?

“Mmm…” He abruptly pulled away.

I felt the loss in my fingertips. I craved his body heat almost as much as his kiss, craved his smell as much as the feel of his mouth on mine. I think the list would be a mile long of all the things Drew made me miss.

“Good, now I’m going to eat all the food so I can carb up for later, and before you say something like, ‘We’ll see’ or blush, know that we will be sleeping in the same bed later.” He paused. “I guess sleeping is probably the wrong word. Make sure you eat enough so that later tonight when it’s my time to have dessert, you’re not embarrassed by how loud your stomach’s growling while I have my tongue inside you reminding you of all the reasons you shouldn’t let me go.”

Stunned, I gulped and then nodded.

“Huh, so all I have to do is get bossy, and you agree with me?” He winked.

My daze lifted a bit as I snapped out of it. “Sometimes, it’s nice to have someone just make all the decisions for you. Besides, it’s exhausting trying to fight you.”

He barked out a laugh. “So, basically, I’m wearing you out already?”

“In the best way, though,” I teased, reaching for a plate.

He grabbed my wrist. “Sit. I can serve myself, and trust me, you’ll need all the energy for later.”

“You keep saying that like it’s a threat.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” He laughed. “…it really is.” And then he muttered, “Three years, three damn years, I’m surprised I haven’t just spontaneously combusted in the middle of the kitchen.”

“Fourteen years,” I countered.

His eyes heated. “Ask me.”

“Ask you wh-what?”

“Ask me to strip you naked next to the fridge.”

His eyes flashed, and then he was pressing me up against my own refrigerator. He pinned me against it then looked behind me with a grimace.

Slowly, he reached around my head, pulled a few of the photo magnets, and flipped them over onto the table. “We wouldn’t want to traumatize the kids.”

I giggled. “Yes, I’m sure that’s going to make Braden feel better. Don’t worry, champ. We flipped over the family magnets!”

“I don’t really care about Braden right now.” Drew pressed his body into mine. “Now let me kiss you until my food gets cold, let me drive you so insane with need that it’s all you can think about while we’re at the studio.”

I stared up into his blue eyes. “It’s all I can think about now.”

“It’s too bad I want to savor my first time with you. Otherwise, you’d be naked, panting my name.” His hard body slid against mine.

I let out a whimper.

“Over…” He rubbed. “…and over…” Again. “…and over.”

“Drew, Drew, Drew,” I panted and then grinned. “Sorry, just practicing.”

“Tease.” He nipped my lower lip. “I have a very addictive personality, you know…” His eyes searched mine.

His phone went off in his pocket. Again.

With a curse, he reached for it and then finally hung his head. “I gotta take this now. I’ll be right back.”

His expression was cold hard steel.

And everything in his body was tense.

There were two sides to Drew.

And he’d only shown me the one.

And that was what terrified me as I sat at the kitchen counter and tried to calm my racing heart.

Drew wanted to show me the happy.

And I wondered if he’d ever show me the jaded, the broken pieces that I knew existed beneath the surface.

Because as much as I was falling for this man, I wanted to fall for all of him, not just the parts he felt were safe enough for me to see.

He still wasn’t back, so I grabbed my phone and did the one thing I promised I would never do.

I googled Drew Amhurst.

And drugs.

I’d purposefully stayed away from social media since Braden started getting famous; besides, it was never fun reading rumors about your son’s sexcapades, even if they weren’t true.

I scrolled through with shaking hands and nearly dropped my phone when the first picture that popped up was one of Drew doing a line of coke with a famous supermodel.

Her top was blurred out because she was naked from the waist up.

The headline read, “Adrenaline Frontman Out of Control.”

The date was ten years ago.

I clicked out of it and kept going.

Heroin abuse, cocaine, two stints in rehab, arrest for the assault of a security guard.

My stomach plummeted. It wasn’t fair that he had this all over the internet, that a person could make a snap judgment based off these pictures.

And I refused to do that, but a part of me needed to know what my heart was getting into.

After another few minutes, I clicked out of my search and decided to get some fresh air.

I opened the sliding glass door and sat on one of my favorite chairs. Drew’s voice startled me out of my thoughtful silence.

Where was he?

I glanced from left to right and then stood and looked over the balcony. He was right beneath me.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know, I know, I need it, though. Nah, man, that should be good enough. Great, you always got my back. Appreciate that. The usual spot?” He barked out a laugh. “I’m not going to get caught, all right? Cool. Later.”

He hung up and exhaled with a giant grin.

While I felt my entire body go cold.

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” I muttered to myself as he made his way back in the house.

Quietly, I entered through the sliding glass door and moved back to the table. He rounded the corner a few minutes later, a mask of calm in place of the grin he’d just been wearing.

What was he hiding?

And what made me think I had any right to know?

He didn’t say anything, just pulled me into his arms and kissed me, then said, “I’m going to eat really quick, and then we can go, yeah?”

He kissed my nose.

Then he nuzzled my neck.

My heart had no problem thumping wildly against my ribs. My pulse pounded in my head as if to remind me that was why I had a right to know, that was why I was worried, because if he took the last of those beats without taking special care…

He would only leave devastation in his wake.

“Sounds good,” I found myself saying as he gripped my ass with both hands and held me close.

I exhaled a worried breath and clung to him, all the while trying not to get sucked farther into his vortex.

But that was what made Drew famous, what made people idolize him; at the end of the day, even with all his sins laid out on the table — every fault, every mistake — you still wanted him to want you.

And I was stupid to think I was any different.

Stupid to think that I wasn’t already halfway in love with him and had been for some time.

“I’m not letting you go,” he whispered into my hair. “I hope you know that.”

“If you’re going to keep me…” I clung to him. “…just make sure you remember that I may as well be a box labeled Fragile.”

“That’s okay since my box is labeled Broken.”

I sucked in a sharp breath and said, “I’m good at fixing things.”

He stiffened. “I wouldn’t want your fragile heart anywhere near my sharp edges, Bronte.”

That was what I was afraid of.

CHAPTER 17

Andrew

“You’re literally bouncing up and down on your feet,” I joked, while Bronte listened to the last track we’d just laid in the studio. We were all spread out in different states of disarray.

Most of us had weird traditions when we recorded.

I wore the same red bracelet on my left hand that served as a reminder never to touch drugs again; it was right next to the tattoo on my forearm that had the date of my overdose. I stared it down often and reminded myself that I was here for a reason, and that reason was not to get high and ruin my life a second time.

Will typically wore his black glasses that made him look more sexy-professor nerd than rockstar.

Trevor had a shirt that stated I’m with the band that was at least a decade old; it was his go-to.

And Ty usually recorded shirtless because… Ty.

And even though Zane wasn’t recording with us, he was producing the track and was playing with a few of the background vocals, overlaying my voice with Will’s, only to take Will’s out. Now if only he’d put on a damn shirt.

“I have an idea.” He pressed pause.

“That’s dangerous,” I muttered, earning a glare from Zane, who looked past me to Bronte.

So yeah, it was rare to bring a wife or a date into our sanctum, but I didn’t want to leave her side. Ergo, she was invited into the fold, and other than a few sideways glances, the guys had no reaction.

“I think you should sing the second verse,” Zane said. “Your voice has…” He hesitated and looked away. “Let’s just say you do a better job sounding as if you’re still so raw with pain and heartache. It’s more believable than Will— No offense, man…” He waved over at Will. “…but you sound way too damn happy.”

Will grinned. “I would say sorry, but…”

“So, what will it be, Eeyore?” Zane leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Extra points if you make someone in here cry.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m going to destroy you bitches.”

“That’s the spirit.” Trevor chuckled.

“You fools are gonna have mascara streaking down your cheeks.”

Zane scoffed. “Lie. Mine’s waterproof.”

“Damn it, the ONE TIME I use regular,” Ty bemoaned.

“I’ve never been so disappointed in you.” I shook my head, then got up and entered the booth amidst Bronte’s huge grin and the guys’ continuous talk of makeup.

We all used to have horrible skin — thus the Will Thermos picture — from all the makeup and sweating on stage. At least now, we could joke about it since our manager no longer made us wear friggin’ eyeliner “to make your eyes pop” and lip tint so the girls could “see your mouths from the cheap seats.”

Don’t even get me started on the piles of foundation and powder that had graced our faces; it was the stuff of nightmares for a teen.

I put on the headphones and gave Zane a thumbs up while the rest of my bandmates watched, waited. We’d done this a million times, so why did this time feel different?

My gaze fell to Will briefly, and I suddenly realized with jarring pain why it felt different.

If they wanted my soul in this song…

I would have to bare it.

All the scars.

All the pain.

All of the shame.

I would have to bare it in front of the guy who used to be closer than a brother, a friend I’d betrayed and then used every justification in the book to tell myself it was okay because I was hurting — because Angelica was hurting — because life hadn’t made sense without both of them in it. When I started to lose parts of him, I’d clung to parts of her, and then when that hadn’t been enough, I’d clung to the high that drugs gave me, the freedom from just a little bit of the pain; but mostly, the freedom from fear that one day both of them would leave me. The sad part was I hadn’t really known myself outside of the three of us.

Just like I had a hard time knowing myself now.

I was terrified that Bronte would see I was still badly broken and in need of about a billion years of therapy.

But it didn’t stop me from wanting her.

Pursuing her.

And praying to God, I didn’t somehow break her too.

I squeezed my eyes shut as the notes to the second verse led me in.

“Like jagged edges and empty pieces, I just want to lay here

And list all the reasons I can’t keep your heart, make you safe

Our love isn’t a risk I think two broken people can take.

The cut it hurts. I watch me bleed,

Watch you try to stop it when you can’t take it

I can’t feel it. God, I can’t feel it.

So I numb it, I need it, numb it,

And feed it, again and again…”

My voice cracked as visions of all my mistakes seemed to play on repeat. Zane hadn’t stopped the track, so I continued to the chorus.

“One last hit, one last kiss,

One last jump, one last miss,

I just want to stay in your arms,

But they’re full of someone else,

And I’m the one who pushed; I’m the one who left,

The one who’s cursed while, baby, you’re blessed.

And when you lay in his arms at night

When he’s holding you tight,

Shed a tear for me.

The way I ache for you — the burn is finally back,

The numbness gone, but it’s too late,

You’re gone, so far gone, in his arms you’ve flown,

Leaving cold emptiness to my bones.

One last hit, one last kiss,

One last jump, one last miss,

Stay in his arms, with someone else,

Because I pushed, and I’m suffering in Hell.”

I ended the chorus and opened my eyes.

Bronte was wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands, and Will was giving me such a hurt expression I wasn’t sure if I’d done more damage or fixed what was already there.

Zane came in over the com. “You changed some of the lyrics.”

I didn’t even realize I had. “Oh, want me to go back and re-record—”

“No!” All the guys yelled at once.

Will bent over the board and clicked the com. “Outside. Now.”

“Shit,” Ty mouthed, while Trevor looked ready to go into full dad-mode, where one kid gets put in a corner and the other outside.

I tossed the headphones onto the chair next to me and slowly exited the building.

The breeze from the ocean smelled salty and fresh, sending a chill down my spine as I waited for Will.

The door to the studio opened then shut behind me.

Streetlights illuminated the boardwalk as we both stared straight ahead, and wave after wave crashed against the white sand.

“I always forget how beautiful it is here,” he rasped.

“I don’t,” I said honestly. “Even though I hate the rain, there’s still something refreshing about this place.”

“I owe you an apology.” His voice cracked. “Several actually.”

“No, you really don’t.”

“You’re right.”

Well, that went well.

“Maybe all I need to do is this.”

Before I could say anything, Will reached out and pulled me against him in a tight hug, and the breath I’d been holding for what seemed like half my life, slowly exhaled past my lips as I hugged him back and felt my eyes well with tears.

It was never supposed to be like this.

The two leaders of Adrenaline, divided.

We were always stronger together.

Powerful.

“I’m sorry.” Voice thick, he continued to hug me.

And then, I felt another set of arms and another.

Followed by Ty’s stupid voice. “We felt left out.”

Will and I both shook with laughter while Trevor added in, “So, are we good now? No more Drew-versus-Will temper tantrums?”

We all broke apart.

I shrugged. “He lives for my temper tantrums.”

Will rolled his eyes. “He wouldn’t be Drew Amhurst without all the attitude, so we kind of have to take him as is.” He made a face as he looked me up and down. “Homeless and stupid.”

“Hey! I’m not homeless,” I pointed out. “I have a home in LA, and I’m choosing to live in the guesthouse for easy access to Bronte’s—”

A voice cleared.

“She’s behind me, isn’t she?” I guessed.

Will grinned. “Do continue.”

“In my defense, I was going to say kitchen.” I finished before I slowly turned and saw Bronte’s expressionless face. “Shit, I messed this up, didn’t I? What I meant—”

She didn’t let me finish; instead, she jerked my face down with both hands and planted one of the hottest kisses I’d ever received right on my mouth.

In front of the entire band.

And amidst all their whistling, I managed to flip them off with one hand while crushing her mouth against mine by holding her head in place with my other.

Our tongues moved together and apart while our lips slid in sync, as though we were made for each other.

Breathless, we broke apart.

Her green eyes lit up with wonder. “I cried.”

“I saw.” My voice cracked.

“You win.” She held out her hand.

“Wait, what does he win?” Ty chimed in. “Ouch! Hit me again, Trevor. See what happens.”

“Oh, I think he’ll be winning a lot.” Will laughed.

“I like winning.” I kissed her again and then waved off the guys. “Yeah, I’m gonna tap out for the night.”

“He’s gonna be tapping some—” Smack. “Son of a bitch, Trevor! Do you mind?”

He just hit him again.

I locked eyes with Will.

One head nod.

And one hug.

And I felt the chasm in my heart close.

By the time we made it to the house, I was ready to rip her clothes off, sing her name, lick her from head to toe, memorize every inch of her body, make a sandwich — because, you know, carbs — and do it again.

Instead, Amelia was home.

I had nothing against Not-My-Daughter, but the last thing she needed was to hear moans coming from her mom’s bedroom.

I could only imagine the trauma.

And the tattling to Braden, who would end up coming back early and punching me in the face.

I opened the door for Bronte and nearly died with the way her hips swayed back and forth… back and forth. Hypnotized… I was so damn hypnotized that I didn’t realize Amelia was on the couch.

“Mom, Not-My-Dad’s being creepy and staring at your butt.”

I snapped my head up and glared at her. “All this after I gave you money?”

She shrugged. “What can I say? I spent it.”

“All of it?” I asked. “How?”

“Living is expensive.” She beamed with a bright smile while Bronte let out a little chuckle and went to the kitchen.

I sprinted over to the couch and jumped onto it right next to Amelia. “Yeah, I’m gonna need another favor.”

Her green eyes lit up. “How incredibly shocking.”

“Would it kill you to soften some of the teen spirit?” I wondered aloud.

“Would it kill you to sleep alone tonight?”

I gasped in outrage. “No.” I pointed my finger at her. “We are not discussing this. No, off-topic, no.”

“But, but…” She sniffled. “…where do babies come from? Mama says when you cuddle really hard—”

“I hate you.” I was so uncomfortable I wanted to hide under the table, but it was glass, so I would just look like an idiot staring up at Amelia in all my embarrassed glory. “Look, it’s her birthday tomorrow.”

“Birthday sex. Birthday sex.” Amelia bobbed her head.

“Damn, teenagers are the worst!” I crossed my arms and leaned back against the couch. “What’s it gonna take?”

Her grin was evil.

This is going to be painful, isn’t it?

“Another set of concert tickets, but this time, backstage passes to AD2, and if you throw in a Red Carpet invite for Jamie Jaymeson’s next film, I could probably find a friend who will take my homeless self in tonight, so I’m not scarred for life.”

“Please.” I snorted. “I’m a sex symbol.”

“Aw, how cute. You still believe that, old man.”

“I’M NOT OLD!” I felt the need to yell again.

She scrunched up her nose. “How is the hip anyway?”

“When it rains, it does ache a bit.” I rubbed my hip and then moved my hand to my knees. “And sometimes, these creak, so good thing I don’t need to use them in order to—”

“La la la la la,” she sang, covering her ears with her hands.

I grinned triumphantly.

Amelia dropped her hands. “Fine. Shake on it?”

“Are all teens so damn expensive and annoying, or just you?”

She beamed. “It’s a gift.”

“Curse,” I fired back and then shook her hand.

“Drew?” Amelia suddenly looked uncertain as she glanced over her shoulder then back at me. “Be gentle with her.”

I squeezed her hand and then pulled her in for a hug. “I swear.”

Amelia sighed against me and then added, “I’ll murder you and bury the body if you hurt her.”

My heart warmed as I pulled away and flicked her nose. “I would expect nothing less from Not-My-Daughter.”

She swallowed and then said. “You’re not so bad at this stuff…”

“Extortion?” I joked.

“No.” She shoved me. “You’re not so bad at the parent-slash-teen negotiation moments. In fact, I give you a gold star.”

“That’s really all I wanted for my life.”

“You’re welcome.” She stood. “All right, I’m just going to grab an overnight bag, text a friend, and if you could keep the PDA to a minimum while I’m on the premises too, that would be awesome.”

“I’ll try to keep my hands and mouth to myself.”

“Ew!” She shuddered and then got up and walked off.

“I’m not ew!” I called after her. “Sex symbol!”

“Okay, old man!” she called back.

“There a reason you’re trying to convince my daughter you’re a sex symbol?” Bronte teased as she tossed me a bottled water.

I sighed. “She called me old, made fun of my hip, and ruined my self-esteem.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your self-esteem, I’m sure, is just fine. Maybe your ego will actually fit in the house now?”

“What can I say? All of me is big.” I smirked.

“DREW, I’M STILL HERE!” Amelia shouted.

“I KNOW!” I yelled right back and then gave Bronte a shrug. “What? A little trauma never hurt anyone. She’ll survive.”

Bronte covered her face with her hands and just shook her head, mumbling, “I think I need more caffeine to deal with you.”

“I’ll be your drug,” I teased just as Amelia came out of her room and visibly shuddered.

“Gross.” She bypassed me and went into her mom’s arms, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’m feeling better already. And Candice’s parents are both home. I’m gonna ride my bike down there, okay?”

“You really don’t have to.” Bronte frowned.

“Yes, she does,” I said, at the exact same time Amelia grumbled, “Yes, I do.”

Bronte looked between us. “Are you two working together now?”

“Scary, isn’t it?” I sighed. “She’s quite expensive, that one, and a little too intelligent for my liking. Are you even capable of having children who aren’t in the process of world domination?”

“Nope,” Amelia answered for her. “Thank God, we got all mom’s genes.”

“Up top.” I held up my hand for a high-five. “Imagine if you would have gotten some of mine.”

“Suddenly, I see myself with less brain cells, more ego, and a tattoo that says Pa on my back.” Amelia winked.

“Low.” I shook my head. “You need money or anything? I mean— What the hell am I saying? You didn’t even ask! You’re just staring at me.” I gave Bronte a pleading look. “She’s magic, isn’t she? Do all teens go to some sort of hypnosis training on how to get shit from people?”

“Swear jar.” Amelia held out her hand. “And I did kind of want to DoorDash…”

“A test then.” I opened up my wallet and pulled out my black AmEx. “Do you have the self-control, or will you buy yourself a new wardrobe? This may as well be the ring that makes you Frodo. Don’t let the Seven Kingdoms down. Sauron sees all.”

Her eyes were so wide I thought they would pop off her face. “Are you— Is this — a credit card?”

Bronte let out a groan. “Looks like Not-Your-Dad is about to learn the hard way you never give the teen the credit card. Ever.”

“Mom, don’t ruin it! I can do this.” Her excited gaze flickered to me. “If I do this, what do I get?”

“Respect.” I nodded. “And a puppy?”

“Drew!” Bronte scolded. “You aren’t getting her a puppy!”

“Oh, sorry. I meant a horse. I know a guy.”

“Oh, God.” Bronte burst out laughing. “Someone needs to train you or something. You can’t just—”

“Yes, please.” I grinned. “What do you think, Amelia, can your mom housetrain me?”

“Doubtful.” She sighed. “Very doubtful, and that’s a heck yes on the puppy. I’ll just be taking this.” She waved the card in front of me.

“Make me proud, Frodo!” I ruffled her hair.

“Anything for you, Gimli!”

I frowned at her disappearing figure. “Wait, isn’t that the dwarf with the giant beard?”

“Yup!” She skipped toward the door.

“Aren’t I more of a Legolas?”

She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “You wish, Drew Amhurst. You wish.”

“Hey!”

And then she was gone.

Bronte just shook her head at me with a blinding smile — a rewarding, blinding smile. “You’re seriously spoiling her, and she’s already spoiled.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say that was how it should have been because that was what dads did.

And then I froze up.

I wasn’t her dad.

But I would kick ass as her dad, or kick anyone’s ass if they messed with her. My emotions must have shown on my face, because Bronte was in my arms in seconds, cupping my cheeks, her green eyes searching mine.

“What’s this look, Drew?” she asked softly. “You went from being extremely happy to almost looking lost and then sad. I don’t like it when you do that, and I know I’m probably asking for way too much right now, but I want to understand you, I want to know—”

“I was thinking I was jealous.” I gulped.

“Jealous?” She squinted. “Of what?”

“Your kids’ piece-of-shit dad. Which just makes me feel even shittier because he doesn’t realize what he has — in his own kids, in his gorgeous ex-wife whose body I’m about to strip — and I don’t like it. I don’t like being jealous of someone who doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t play house with you, Drew. It’s already going to kill me when you walk out that door.”

“The only reason I’d be walking out that door would be to get groceries, run any errand you want, or go to the studio. Just know that walking out that door doesn’t mean I’m not fully planning on walking back in.” I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Fuck seven days, Bronte. You’re mine. You get that, right? I’m not playing at anything. This is real.”

“How? How can this be real? We don’t even know everything about each other, and I know you’re still hiding things from me.”

“To protect you,” I whispered, “not to keep you out.”

“What if I don’t want your protection?”

I smiled. “Then you have it anyway. Besides, Rome wasn’t built in a day. I can’t just drop years of baggage in one night, one week, even one month. The only thing you can do is trust me when I say I won’t ever let it affect you, your family, or us. I swear.”

“You can’t swear that.”

“Just did.”

“Drew—”

“Less arguing, more sexing.” I jerked her toward me. “Look at that. I made up a word. Am I the infamous Drew Amhurst or what?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh good. The ego’s back.”

“You love it.” I nipped her lower lip. “If you wanted to date a Bob, you’d be dating a Bob — or a Harry, George, Henry—”

“Dating?”

“But…” I didn’t give her a chance to panic. “…you wanted to date a Drew, and Drews are wild. Drews are unpredictable. Drews like kissing, they like sex, and they’re overconfident — but not to a fault. Drews aren’t selfish in bed, and Drews keep you guessing. And at the end of the day, I’ll admit, Drews are a risk, but I need you to stop playing it safe and take that leap with me, so I don’t fall flat on my ass by myself. Can you do that?”

She opened her mouth and then closed it only to try to speak again. But all she got out was “Dating.”

“Shame on you. I don’t do one-night stands,” I scolded. “PS, will you be my girlfriend? I can write it down so you can circle yes or no, but I figured I couldn’t handle the stress of watching your pencil hover over the no as if you actually had to think about it.”

“Dating.”

“Cool, so that’s a yes.” I smirked and then threw her over my shoulder and slapped her on the ass, enjoying her struggling and pounding on my back with her tiny fists. “You’re adorable; you know that?”

“Where are we—”

I tossed her onto her bed, and she bounced up, her chocolate hair scattering around her shoulders. I kissed her breasts, and her eyes locked on mine in total fear, but right after that fear, her mouth softened, showing need, followed by trust. Then my heart pulsed a word: mine.

“So, gorgeous girlfriend…” I peeled my T-shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor before stalking toward her in all my tatted-up glory; my two necklaces swung across my chest, making a clanging noise with each step I took.

I leaned over the bed, letting her make the choice. We were nose to nose. I could feel her heartbeat, or maybe it was mine pounding that loud.

She could still reject me.

She could say it was too soon.

She could back up.

And I would let her because this was about her, not me.

“You’re too sexy for your own good. You even have the swagger down,” she whispered, reaching for my necklaces then clutching them in her hand.

“They unlock the secret to the swagger after your first Grammy.”

“They?”

“The Illuminati — we’re all members. FYI, you’re gonna have to make a blood sacrifice, but I figure Ryan will work, right?” I grinned.

“Fine by me.” Slowly, she twisted the silver chains in her hand. One of them had a gothic cross dangling down my chest, and the other was an old key that had hope inscribed on it. I felt every movement, every inhale, exhale as I waited for her to say, “Yes,” waited for her to choose me.

“I just want you to know…” She licked her lips and then stared at mine. “…that it doesn’t matter if you’re broken, because none of us are whole. Wholeness is a lie people believe when they can’t handle the truth. And every single part of you, even the ones you try to hide or are ashamed of— I want those too. So that when I choose you, every single time you choose me, you’re choosing the pretty along with the poison. Wherever love exists, pain must also be present.”

I felt myself falling then, down into the tumultuous depths of the love she’d spoken about, and I wasn’t gasping for air. It felt like someone had finally set me free. “I love you, and you can’t make me stop.” My hands shook as I cupped her face.

A tear slid down her cheek as she whispered, “I’ve loved you since I was sixteen.”

And then she jerked my necklaces and fell with me, overtaken as our kiss consumed us both.

I couldn’t get the shirt over her head fast enough.

I needed her, needed her badly, needed to feel her around me.

I finally broke off the kiss so I could rip her jeans down her body. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how I tried. I missed the button in her jeans the first time.

With a shy smile, she gently pushed me away. “Drew?”

“Yeah.” I croaked, terrified she was going to say we needed to wait a bit longer.

“You’re trembling.”

“I know.”

“First time?” she joked.

I smacked her on the ass and then rubbed. “Cute.”

“Here.” She reached for her jeans and somehow managed to seductively strip the rest of the clothes off her body.

There she was in all her glorious naked beauty.

And all my hands could do was shake.

All my eyes could do was drink her in.

My heart screamed inside my chest.

My demons struggled to break free, to remind me why I didn’t deserve her. Thank God, I had a tether, and I was looking right at her.

Those green eyes told the demons to go fuck themselves.

And for the first time in forever, my chest felt light, as if someone had checked the closet for monsters and killed off every last bastard.

And then turned on the light.

“You stare at me a lot.” She chewed her lip nervously.

“Because each time I look at you, I see something different,” I confessed. “I could spend the rest of my life staring at you and still see something new across your face. I will be fascinated by you until the day I die.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Boyfriend?”

I couldn’t help my goofy grin. “Yes, girlfriend?”

“Have me.”

“You’re gonna need to actually ask…” My grin was wicked as her cheeks went completely red. “…which means that mouth’s about to get…” I leaned down and nipped her lower lip, giving it a rough tug before finishing. “…dirty.”

Her eyes glazed over, and then determination flashed across her face as she rasped out. “Fuck me.”

“My pleasure.” I managed to kick off my jeans, and then we were one; our mouths fused together as our bodies moved in perfect sync as if we’d done this a million times.

My hands shook when I toyed with her breasts, testing her, seeing what set her off, what made all those sexy sounds leave her parted lips as my tongue stroked hers.

Her hands tangled in my hair; her lips parted on another deep kiss; her little pants were coming faster and faster as I slid my hand between her thighs.

I groaned. “I could stay here forever.” I stroked her, loving how she already clenched around me.

She tore her mouth away from mine. “Best plan ever.”

“The kids will have to, naturally, raise themselves.” I rubbed my palm against her, earning a not-so-gentle buck from her hips right against my dick.

“They’ll survive. We’ll just leave the room for food and water.”

“Solid plan.” I pressed a wet teasing kiss between her breasts while strumming her with the perfection that had made me famous.

My hands, another extension of my instrument, she may as well have been my guitar as I played, searching for each note, and was rewarded with the groans and sighs that created one of the most beautiful and oldest songs of time.

“I need more.” Her eyes squeezed shut as her back bowed off the bed. Her entire body tensed as I built her into the final crescendo and hit the G-note. I was rewarded with my name on her lips.

“Fifteen more to go.” I throbbed for her, hurting to join the song.

After all, it was a duet.

A sweaty duet.

Her eyes opened, the green more luminous than ever. She reached for me, and I let her only because I knew exploring would be on the menu; she needed it as much as she needed time to prepare.

But she wasn’t exploring.

She was stroking.

And I was dying.

It was like she looked at the music and decided to add an extra bridge, and now I was racing toward the chorus.

“Keep doing that, and I’m not gonna make it, B.”

“Then you should probably do something about it,” she panted, and she allowed her legs to fall open, exposing herself to me, showing me all the things I’d done to her, the responses she had.

And I lost it.

My vision solely locked onto hers as I inched inside.

She tensed.

“Remember who you’re with,” I whispered, inching in farther. “Someone you trust, someone you love, someone who will take care of you. Someone…” I moved more. “…who would do anything to keep you safe.” She gripped the sheets in her hands and then reached for me.

I pressed what was probably a painful kiss to her mouth as I filled her completely. Yeah, this chorus was definitely going to be on the shorter side.

With each smooth thrust, I felt her tense around me in pleasure, and I felt my need for release like the sun — blinding, all-encompassing, impossible to run away from.

“Remember who you’re with,” Bronte repeated in a whisper as our mouths broke apart.

I circled my hips while she hooked one leg around me, altering the angle and nearly throwing us off the bed.

But that angle…

“Holy shit.” Beads of sweat formed at my temples.

“Swear jar.” She moaned. “Right there, Drew. Right, there.”

“Damn it; you’re so tight, feel so good.” I let out another groan and then another string of sentences that didn’t even make sense.

Her muscles constricted around me, clenching. Eyes wild, she kissed me hard, nearly hitting my teeth as she used my necklaces to keep me close. And then she came apart, one hand choking me with the necklaces and the other clenching my biceps muscle.

My release was like the last song before the encore.

I pumped into her until my body was spent, and I let go of everything, but that moment.

Gasping, I stared into her green eyes. They were glowing. I had done that. I’d put that glow there. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and then kissed me softly on the mouth. Our bodies still entwined, I wanted to live forever in moments like this… with her, only with her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Happy early birthday,” I murmured, earning a laugh from her. “What?”

“Oh, you know, had anyone told me that for my fortieth birthday I’d get my favorite rockstar in my bed, I would have checked them for head trauma.” Her smile was so addictively gorgeous.

“So, you finally admit it… I’m your favorite.”

“We’re even since I’m yours.”

“Truth.” I peppered kisses across her mouth, her cheeks, and then her neck. “You’re my favorite song because everything you do is like music, and I think we have a few more notes to play, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” She bit down on her bottom lip. “We do.”

I smacked her lightly on the ass. “Good, now let’s take a time out, and then I want to do this in front of the mirror.”

Her eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“So, you can watch how I watch you, see how you affect me, and know how much I worship your body, every last inch of it.”

“You need to stop being so perfect. I think it’s easier dealing with the ego than with your seduction techniques.”

“Not seduction.” I kissed her again. “Facts.”

CHAPTER 18

Bronte

Amelia checked in later that night via text, and Braden messaged at around two a.m. to wish me a happy birthday.

It was probably a good thing he didn’t know that, at that exact moment, Drew was licking ice cream off my belly button.

It all started when I said I hadn’t had a cake for my birthday in forever.

And since we had no mix in the house, Drew concluded that dessert was dessert, but it would taste wrong if he put it in a bowl.

Next thing I knew, we were in the kitchen, and I had a small amount of vanilla ice cream on my belly button topped with whip cream. And the most gorgeous man in the known universe was lapping it up with his tongue.

Even his grunts were sexy as his tatted hands held my hips in place. I reached for him again, stroking his length.

The man had stamina.

That much was true.

We’d taken small breaks.

But he still wanted more.

And I wanted to give him everything.

How had this even happened?

“Mmm…” Drew’s mouth moved up my stomach. The cold hard granite counter bit against my back as I arched into him in greedy need. “…I think I like your skin more than the ice cream.”

“Oh, God.”

His tongue found a nipple. He was ice cold, and then he sucked. I wasn’t sure whether to smack him or ask him for more. “That feels—”

His tongue swirled, and then his instrumental hands dug into my hair, giving it a pull as he sat me up on the countertop where he’d just been licking me; it was as natural as breathing, wrapping my legs around his hips as he sank in again and then pressed me against the fridge as promised.

“Think we’re down to nine.” He panted against my neck as each thrust had me clawing at his back in an attempt to get closer.

I could hear the sound of things falling in the fridge with each push against the stainless steel.

And then he just pinned me there without moving, his eyes alight with amusement. “I’m too close. Sorry.”

“Yes…” I turned my head and tongued the sweat that dripped down his temple. “…please apologize right now.”

“Care to scold me?” He winked, and then he moved, hard, slow.

“What? You want me to call you a bad boy or something?”

“Fuck, I think every sexual schoolgirl fantasy just came to life,” he growled against my neck. “I think I’d like to be punished by you.”

I don’t know why, but I bit into his neck and then sucked, giving him a hickey as his moans filled the kitchen while he filled me. “Consider my mark your punishment.”

He cursed, and then everything went wild. We went from the fridge down the hall, me in his arms, him still inside me. “Not gonna make it.” He kissed me and then pressed me up against the hallway wall.”

“Drew!” I screamed out his name as we came in sync.

And when I finally caught my breath, it was for him to give me an awkward look as he very carefully pulled a picture of Braden’s first concert and flipped it over.

“He’s too young to see this.”

Glorious gurgles of laughter erupted, and I kissed him again. “We should sleep.”

“We should have more sex.”

“Dreeeeww.”

“Aw, that’s where Amelia learned it.”

I playfully smacked him on the chest. He captured my fingertips, brought them to his lips, and slowly pulled out of me, his eyes never leaving mine. “Are you saying I exhausted you?”

My legs wobbled as I nearly collapsed against him. “My body’s not used to it.”

“And it won’t get used to anyone else ever again.” A muscle clenched in his jaw, “Happy birthday, beautiful.”

“You said that already.”

“That’s because I get to keep saying it for another twenty-two or so hours. Hell, what time is it anyway?”

I yawned while he glanced at his watch and made a face. “We definitely went over curfew.”

I let out an exhausted laugh. “Bed.”

His eyes glanced toward the master bedroom. “Does that mean I get to sleep with you in your bed?”

“I think you’ve earned it.”

“Awesome, because I’m scared of the dark.” He walked past me and went into my bathroom then turned on the shower.

Good idea.

I quickly washed off, between Drew’s kisses, not that I was complaining, but part of me just wanted to be held in his arms.

And as promised, when we went to bed, he pulled me in against his body, wrapped his arms around me, and whispered, “Sleep.”

It had been years since I’d fallen asleep that fast.

I jerked awake around eight a.m. to find the bed empty, but the sliding glass door to my room partway open.

Drew was on his phone, his back faced me. “Nobody’s gonna find out.”

A cold chill hit me like a punch to the gut.

“No, I’ve been careful, all right? I really appreciate this. I owe you a huge favor in the near future.” He chuckled. “No, she has no idea, so keep that giant mouth of yours to yourself.” He laughed and then, “Yeah, see you in a few.”

I quickly hopped back into my bed and tried to look as if I’d just gotten up. I put my hands over my head and stretched.

Drew walked back in wearing nothing but his low-slung pair of jeans from last night and a mesmerizing smile. “So, how’s it feel?”

Don’t jump to conclusions. Don’t jump to conclusions.

“Waking up next to me?”

I threw a pillow at him and then shrugged. “I don’t know since, when I woke up, you weren’t there.”

His face fell, and then a guilty look flashed before his sexy smile was back. “Sorry, a man’s gotta have some secrets.”

“Is this… a bad secret?”

He frowned. “Is this our first fight?”

“Stop deflecting.” I watched for any more clues in his posture, but he was back to his old self.

“I’m…” He leaned forward and kissed my forehead, then my mouth. “…not deflecting.”

“You’re using your sexual prowess,” I grumbled, nearly forgetting why I’d been worried in the first place.

“Hey, a man’s gotta use everything in his arsenal. Besides, it’s your birthday morning, and since you’re probably exhausted…” He dove under the covers.

And my worry was completely forgotten.

Sucked away by Drew’s magnificent tongue.

It was the best birthday morning of my life.

With my rockstar boyfriend by my side.

Literally.

He managed to make pancakes and kept on talking about a surprise. He told me he needed to run an errand really quick, and that Amelia was already on her way back to celebrate with us.

I was giddy with excitement.

Which should have been my first clue that something was about to go wrong.

I cleaned up the house a bit and turned on the TV so that I could have some background noise. I hated feeling alone in that giant place.

“Hey, Mom!” Amelia bounced through the door and slammed it. “Happy birthday!”

“Thank you.” I pulled my baby into my arms and hugged her tight. “How did the night as Protector of the Ring go?”

She pulled out the black AmEx and handed it to me. Was I seriously holding his credit card now?

Life. So strange.

“I bought pizza for all my friends then thought about making up a fake receipt of huge purchases, including a yacht in the south of France, but decided that he’s old enough to have a heart attack so…”

“Heard that,” Drew suddenly said from the door, leaning against it so casual and sexy, my heart skipped a beat.

“You were meant to,” Amelia sing-songed with a grin. “I saw your car pulling up after mine.”

He let out a snort. “Too smart for her own good, folks.”

“The music world is being rocked this morning by the downfall of a legend…” said the prissy female newscaster. “A reliable source has confirmed that Andrew Amhurst, Adrenaline frontman, has fled to Seaside, Oregon, recently after pictures were leaked of him reverting to his old ways, partying late at night along with obvious drug usage.” She sighed. “We hope that Drew gets the help he needs from his bandmates in Oregon. Maybe third time’s a charm.”

Everything in me seized up.

Everything.

All the hushed conversations came back full force as a numbness washed over me.

“Amelia, go to your room,” I whispered.

“Mom, I—” Tears welled in her eyes.

“Now.” I flipped off the TV.

Drew looked just as upset as I felt, but he didn’t say a word, didn’t deny it, didn’t do anything except stand there with a pained expression on his face, as if he didn’t know what to say.

Those damn phone calls.

“You’re using?” My voice trembled.

“What do you think?” His face was stone, his jaw clenched.

“I-I don’t know what to think. I mean, you weren’t supposed to be here recording still, right? And then you’re suddenly here, and you keep making these phone calls and talking about demons and, and—”

“Wow, seems like you’ve got it all figured out. Every puzzle piece just fits together perfectly, doesn’t it?”

“You had wine,” I pointed out, “and champagne.”

“Are you serious right now?” His face completely broke. “After everything we’ve shared, everything, you’re going to believe a celebrity gossip?”

“Then tell me.” Tears spilled onto my cheeks. “Make me believe you. I don’t want—”

“You know the worst part?” He looked down at the floor, his posture defeated. “I thought that this was different, a fresh start. I thought that if I could just wake up to you, fall asleep next to you, that as long as you kept the demons at bay, I could trust you. I could finally be myself. I could, with some work, drop this exhausting facade, this persona people project onto me. And now—” He lifted his head and met my gaze, his eyes filled with inscrutable emotion. “—you’re looking at me as if I burned the world. You’re looking at me as if I’m already guilty.”

I sucked in a breath and covered my mouth with my hands as more hot tears welled then streamed down my cheeks.

Without saying anything else, he turned and walked out of the house but left the door open. He was back with a cardboard box.

He gently set it at my feet, and inside the box was the cutest bulldog puppy I’d ever seen in my life.

A red bow was tied around his neck.

And inside the box was a card that said Happy Birthday attached to a small blue Tiffany’s box.

“Drew—” I choked on a sob.

“I was trying to surprise you for your birthday. And Will found a local breeder who had a puppy left. But go ahead and let me know if you need me to piss in a cup to prove to you that I’m not a liar.” His voice cracked, and then he was walking away again. “I need air.”

“Drew!”

“Please…” He stopped in his tracks and refused to turn around. Seconds turned into a minute, my heart pounding in my ears. “…stay.”

He hung his head and whispered, “That’s all I ever wanted. Someone to look at me the way you do, and now I can’t bear to turn around. It will kill me to see what I know is every single one of my sins exploding inside me, as I stand there in utter shame and embarrassment, cutting my hands on the sharp broken edges, trying to pick up the dark, bloody pieces, all by myself… Utterly. Alone.” He held his head high again and kept walking; the slow cadence of his footsteps felt like a death march. “I need to deal with this, and I need to think.”

And that was all he said before getting into his car and driving off, leaving me wondering why I hadn’t just assumed the best instead of the worst.

Was it because we didn’t make sense?

Was it because I was that insecure? Still?

I hated myself.

I hated my mistrust.

And most of all, I hated that I projected it onto Drew when it had been another man who’d put it there in the first place.

“Mom?” Amelia’s thick voice filled the empty living room. “Did he leave us?”

Us.

Not you.

Us.

I covered my mouth with my hands. I wanted to keep it in, the sob, because if it was unleashed, I wondered if it would stop.

But all it took was my daughter’s arms wrapping around me in comfort for me to break.

The dam was too overwhelmed with the pain.

She’d just repeated what she’d said when she was a little girl; only this time, she sounded sad, not relieved.

“I don’t know,” I choked out. “I don’t know.”

“Shh, Mom, it’s okay… it’s okay. I’m going to call Braden—”

“No!” I sniffled. “He’s on his honeymoon. He needs time—”

“Mom.” Amelia put her hands on my shoulders and forced me to face her. “—you’ve spent your entire life protecting us, loving us, taking care of us. Now it’s our turn.”

I started crying all over again and wondered how I was going to fix this when the puppy managed to bounce out of his box and run over to the couch.

Amelia picked him up and let out a little gasp when she read the small note attached to him.

“What?” Sniffing, I rubbed my nose with the back of my hand like a four-year-old. “What’s his name?”

“It doesn’t say.”

“What does it say?” I whispered.

Amelia’s eyes filled with tears, then one slid down her cheek. “Not-Our-Family-Dog.”

I closed my eyes.

“And it says to read the card.”

She shook as she went over to pick up the card and the Tiffany’s box, and with trembling hands, opened the card and read out loud. “Not-My-Future-Wife.”

Tears were streaming so hard I couldn’t see straight.

The last thing in the box was a worn brown leather notebook I’d seen him carry around; he’d had it at the studio too.

The yellow sticky note on top of it read, “

The only person who’s ever asked to see my demons and truly meant it — is you. So here they are, laid out in painful page after page. It reads like a story with a happy ending, though, because somehow the universe saved your songs for last, the ones you inspired, so maybe it’s possible to walk into the sunset. Maybe you battle the demons and then get your reward. Maybe my reward, though so undeserved, is you. Happy birthday.”

Sobs wracked my body. “I have to talk to him; I have to—”

“It’s going to be okay.” She wrapped an arm around me. “Braden will know what to do. We’ll just talk to him. You know how some guys get, and Drew’s… He’s… different from normal people.”

“He feels too much,” I said through my tears. “What if this causes him to do something stupid? What if I’m the reason—”

“Nope. Not going there, Mom. He’s not a Ryan. He’s a Drew, remember?”

Last night’s conversation played over and over in my head. “He’s a Drew.”

“I’m gonna wait for a Drew, Mom.”

I hoped I still had mine.

CHAPTER 19

Andrew

Me: Help.

That was all I texted in the group text, all I could get out as I drove around in circles and finally found myself back at the beach, staring at the waves.

It was as if I was back to where we’d started—having to prove myself to someone I shouldn’t have to prove myself to.

My phone started ringing.

I nearly dropped it trying to answer and didn’t even look at the screen. “Bronte?”

“No. It’s Skye.”

I wanted to crunch the phone with my bare hands. “I already told you—”

“Did you like the pictures?”

“What?” I hissed. “What the hell did you do?”

“It’s time for you to stop ignoring me. Come back to LA, and we’ll talk. Promise. We were good together. You know it.”

I cringed. “Even if I did have any feelings for you — which I don’t — I can’t be around you, Skye, not when you’re using. I’ve done everything I can. I even helped get you into rehab again. I’ve been your friend, your sober buddy. I’d even been your everything a very long time ago. But I can’t, not anymore. I need someone who’s rooting for me to win, not someone trying to justify one little pill and then another and another.”

“So basically, you can’t handle the temptation both my body and beliefs offer you?”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” I shrieked. “You need help, Skye! Real help.”

She snorted out a laugh. “Fine, see what happens if you reject me again. I’m just going to keep leaking pictures.”

“Old pictures.”

“Doesn’t matter. Still makes you look bad, and I’m a very reliable source. After all, I’m the poor young impressionable girl in some of those pictures. I think the next headline’s going to be, Drew Amhurst’s Dark Past and the Woman He Nearly Killed with his Addictions.” Her laugh was pure evil, hatred.

“Please,” I rasped, almost unable to find the strength to keep talking. “I’m begging you not to do that. Don’t push me this far, Skye. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to survive it.”

“Then you know exactly how I feel,” she spat, and then hung up.

“You should have told me,” came Will’s voice from behind me, and then his hands were on my shoulders.

I couldn’t find my voice, so I stared at the waves.

I couldn’t find my center, because she was back at the beach house.

I couldn’t find my heart, because I’d left it with her.

So, the darkness closed in.

Will was talking again, pulling me back from the deep, dark waves. “Yeah, this is Will. I need a cop to do a wellness check on Skye Amhurst. Drew just received a very concerning phone call. She may be overdosing or on the verge of it. I’m going to send her publicist and agent over as well to help.” He sighed. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, man.”

I listened in numb silence.

Skye was the reason I didn’t do one-night stands.

Because the last time I did one, I’d somehow ended up married in Vegas to a girl who woke me up with a line of coke on a mirror on my naked stomach.

I’d relapsed that day.

I hated myself for it.

She was poison.

And I’d hired an in-home therapist to do rehab, divorced her ass as fast as I could, and had my team keep it quiet.

She’d been given a million dollars to keep our past relationship a secret, and then she’d been required to sign an NDA stating she could never speak out against me because of the divorce.

So apparently, this was how she was getting around it, for revenge.

She was just like the demons— Hell, she was one of them.

Will sat down next to me and got on his phone again. “Yeah, I need you to send out a press release about the leaked pictures. They’re from at least three years ago from the looks of them.” He paused. “Because I know everything about him. It’s my job. And because he wasn’t wearing his red bracelet, which means he didn’t have his tattoos that show the dates of his last overdose and one and only relapse three years ago. Check out the photos again. We want a full apology put out immediately, or the team will take legal action…Yup, I’m on my cell…Yeah, I have him…Okay. Bye.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Thank you. For believing me.”

Will sighed and wrapped an arm around me. “You’re a pain in my ass, a dick half the time, and too talented for your own good. I know you’ve been clean, man. We all do. I knew when I saw the pictures that it was from forever ago, and most were blurry enough so you couldn’t see any lines on your face.”

“The hell are you saying? Lines? I don’t have wrinkles! I Botox this shit.”

“See? I offend you, and you stop being sad. How well do I know you? I mean seriously?” Will pulled his arm back and elbowed me.

I scowled. “At least someone believes me.”

“Bronte?”

I nodded.

“I take it you didn’t give her her presents yet?”

“Ah…” The lump was back in my throat. “…the pictures popped up on the news the minute I was trying to.”

Will winced. “Well, that’s incredibly bad timing.”

“Amelia was there.” I sighed. “If you find my bloating body tomorrow morning floating around by the jellyfish side of the cliff, know that Braden got to me before I could tell him the truth.”

Will shook his head. “Not gonna happen. Braden loves you like a brother, even though you’re in love with his mom.”

I made a face. “Maybe say that sentence differently in the future?”

“Yeah.” He laughed. “All I’m saying is that he gets how this industry is now, how cutthroat. Bronte hasn’t even seen part of how bad it gets, how people lie, and manipulate to get what they want. So, you can’t expect her to understand everything. You have to take the time to tell her just like she needs to take the time to listen.” He slapped me on the shoulder. “Welcome to a real relationship.”

I stood. “I need to go talk with her.”

“No need, man. No need.” Will looked over my shoulder, and I turned to follow his gaze.

Bronte stood there, must have been standing there the entire time, tears streaming down her face. Had she heard it all? Did she know my pain? What I was trying like hell to protect her from?

“I went to the house first,” explained Will, “and then turned on my Find-a-Friend to make sure you were okay. She cried the entire time here, so she wasn’t all that helpful.” He gave her a sad smile. “But I told her to wait, to listen. Always two sides to every story.”

I didn’t give Will the chance to walk away. I jerked him in for a massive hug. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“Don’t make me cry. She’ll tell my wife.” His voice cracked.

Hearing him call Angelica his wife didn’t make my chest hurt. If anything, I finally felt as if I could smile. His wife.

His wife.

They deserved each other.

They deserved happiness, and I deserved Bronte.

Will walked off down the street toward his car.

Bronte’s face was red, and her eyes puffy from tears. “Will you forgive me?” Her voice was thick with emotion, sick from crying. “Please? I don’t think—” She covered her face with her hands.

“Don’t cry,” I took a step toward her. “Not on your birth—”

I stopped talking.

On her left hand, was the gorgeous ring I’d gotten her for her birthday. I had a speech prepared about it being too soon, but that I hoped one day she’d give me that ring back and tell me it was time, time to replace it with a diamond.

Because I wanted forever, even if I had to wait in order to have it.

“You’re wearing the ring on your left hand.” I felt my throat close up.

She dropped her hands. Two steps and she was in my arms, hugging me. “I know you didn’t ask, but I couldn’t stand to put it anywhere else but there, where people will see who I belong to, who I will be honored to walk with, who I am proud to love.”

I lifted her up in my arms and kissed her hard against the mouth. Our lips parted. My eyes hooded as I drank in her beauty; even after crying, she was stunning. “When you’re ready, I want to replace it, something flashy, something that you can see from space…”

She smiled through her tears. “That’s too bad…” She kissed me softly and whispered against my mouth. “…because I’m not waiting. I’ve never done something so impulsive. Then again, I’ve never really dated the great Drew Amhurst.”

I laughed. “It changes you, doesn’t it?”

“Hey, the ego survived.”

“Always does.” I kissed her again. I couldn’t help it. “What are you doing that’s so impulsive?”

“Telling Drew Amhurst, on my fortieth birthday, that I want to marry him.” Her eyes locked onto mine with such intensity my chest hurt. “And that, you can’t really have a puppy without little kids.”

I went completely still. “Wh-what?” I gripped either side of her face. “Please, please don’t tease me. Don’t dangle something like that in front—”

“You should probably use some of those remaining orgasms and get me pregnant, Drew, and when I say probably, I mean right now.”

“On the park bench? They’ll arrest us.” I swung her around in a circle.

She laughed and threw her head back. “I figure you can pretty much afford to give me anything. You got me a ring, a puppy, you fixed my heart, and now, I want to give us both something…”

“A… baby.” I almost couldn’t say it.

“A baby,” she agreed with a huge smile. “At least we’ll try. I am pretty old—”

I cut her off with a kiss. “Don’t insult my sperm. They’re sensitive.”

“Nooooo!” Amelia suddenly appeared.

“Hey, Not-My-Daughter, remember when you asked where babies came from?”

“No.” She stared, her eyes darting back and forth between us, and then she ran right into our arms. “I followed Will’s car. I was worried.”

“Everything’s fine,” Bronte said.

I kissed the top of Amelia’s head and hugged them. My family. “Yeah, it really is.”

And then, “Braden’s gonna kill you,” Amelia said in a sing-song voice.

I gulped. “Yeah, not really looking forward to the Who’s your daddy? conversation.”

Amelia threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, it will be the best day. I’m gonna film it for a new TikTok challenge.”

“Ah, to be a teen again…” I sighed. “Shall we go home?”

It had slipped out, but it felt right on my tongue, calling her house home. Yeah, Braden really was going to kill me.

I’d promised him I was going to give Bronte a good time.

And he was going to come back to the house he had bought for her and find me moved in and literally trying to impregnate his mom.

Sounded about perfect to me.

EPILOGUE

Nine months and one week later…

Andrew

“I’m too old for this shit, you monster!” Bronte let out another ear-splitting scream while I clutched her left hand and held her ice-chip cup in the other — crushed it, actually, like she was crushing my bones. “Is she here yet?”

I gulped and stared at the doctor, ready to ask him to give her more drugs.

“Close!” the doc said in a way-too-chipper voice as if he had all the time in the world.

She squeezed my hand tighter.

“Hey…” I set down the cup and grazed her face with my fingertips. “…at least we know my sperm are powerful!”

“Really?” Her teeth clenched. “NOW is when you decide to have jokes?”

“Should I wait outside?” I winced.

Her glare said yes, her grip said no.

“All right, Bronte, one more big push. Can you do that?”

I lost all hand function as she squeezed again and let out a scream. Instant baby cries filled the air, and then I felt hot wet tears stream in succession down my cheeks as they placed our tiny girl directly on Bronte’s chest.

“God, she’s beautiful.” My hands shook as I reached out.

And then, “Bronte!” the doc snapped. “I need you to push again. Liz, grab the baby—”

My baby, where was she taking my girl? It was all I could process before more crying erupted.

The doctor chuckled. “You little rascal!”

“Rascal?” I was existing outside my body as I pointed. “Is that— Is that—”

“Twins!” The doctor laughed again. “He was hiding behind his sister. Typical lazy boy!”

Bronte’s expression was panicked, and then she burst into tears.

“Sweetheart, it’s good. It’s so good. We’re not old, despite what Amelia constantly writes on sticky notes and puts all over the house!”

“No…” She sobbed. “…I’m just so happy. I can’t believe it! Two!”

“Sperm king.” I should have fucking bowed, right? This was the moment I wanted to do a group text, but I refrained as the doctor handed our son to Bronte, and the nurse handed me our daughter.

She was pink and beautiful and so tiny I was instantly terrified I was going to do everything wrong. My little Rose Amhurst.

“We didn’t have a boy name…” Bronte smiled down at our son. “…but I know what I want to name him.”

“Anything.” I joined her on the bed, with my daughter tucked in my arms. “Whatever you want.”

Bronte’s green eyes filled with tears. “Not Ryan.”

I gasped. “How dare you mention that name during such a holy moment!”

She giggled. “Drew.”

“Yes?”

“No, I want to name him Drew because Drews are the best. They’re risk-takers. They’re wild, arrogant, but they’re talented. They’re loyal, they protect, and their capacity for love is boundless.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

We kissed, and both infants immediately started to cry.

“Well…” She pulled back. “…this should be fun… again.”

“Hey, teamwork.” I winked.

“Teamwork,” she agreed.

“I mean…” I shrugged. “…did you ever imagine that you’d be making babies with the great Drew Amhurst and—”

“Hey, husband?”

“Wife?”

“Shut up.”

I just laughed, and then laughed harder an hour later when Braden and Amelia visited, both of them shocked to learn they had twin siblings.

“Two.” Amelia’s face was pale. “Whoa, one is hard enough—”

“Have I ever mentioned how encouraging you are, daughter?”

She stuck her tongue out at me and then shrugged with a grin. “Hey, Dad,” She emphasized dad on purpose, which I claimed to hate but loved. “A few of us are going to stay at Cannon Beach for the weekend. Can I go?”

“That depends.” I narrowed my eyes. “Who’s going?”

She shuffled on her feet. “Um… Min, Brit…” A gulp. “…Body.”

“Nope!” I interrupted. “We already had this discussion. No Bodys.”

“But—”

“Listen to your father,” Bronte chimed in.

“Ugh, you guys are the worst!” She huffed, and then a small smile crept onto her face. “Fine, can I go shopping with Min?”

“Sure.” I handed her my credit card.

Bronte sighed. “That was way too easy.”

“Mom, you never gave me your credit card!” Braden complained.

“Bro…” I frowned. “…you’re worth like twenty mil. If you need your mom’s card to feel like it’s fair, there’s something very wrong with this picture.”

“It’s the principal of the matter,” he pointed out. “And actually, I just signed a new endorsement deal with Beats.”

“That went through?” I held up my free hand for a high-five. “Killer. Did Will negotiate?”

“Yup, got me an extra signing bonus.”

“Of course, he did.” And probably a nice percentage for himself, because that was what Will did; he was the best of the best at freaking everything.

And now our kids would grow up next door.

Together.

“Mom, Dad has the smile again.”

“He’s just happy.” Bronte laughed. “Right, Drew?”

“So damn happy,” I agreed.

“Swear jar,” Amelia sung.

“Girl, you got my credit card, or do you really want a crisp dollar bill instead?”

“I’m just gonna go.” Amelia held up the card. “I’ll check back in later. Remember, I get first shift, so you guys can sleep when you get back and Sarah flies in next week for her turn!”

The kids had outright refused to let us hire a nanny.

I kind of loved it.

Both kids took off, and the nurses came to grab the twins so we could nap for a bit, but all my body kept thinking about was how gorgeous Bronte looked, how strong and incredible she was.

“We can’t have sex yet,” she deadpanned.

“I just want to hold you,” I whispered, “and bask in your amazingness.”

“But I want you…” she whined.

“Patience.” I crawled into bed and pulled her into my arms. “Thanks for the seven days that turned into a lifetime…”

“Thanks for walking in my door and stalking me.”

“Anytime.” I kissed her forehead and fell asleep with a smile on my face. She was my song, and there would be many more verses to write.

WANT MORE SEASIDE?

Don’t miss the Seaside Pictures books.

Each standalone book features a different couple!

Capture (Lincoln & Dani’s story)

Keep (Zane & Fallon’s story)

Steal (Will & Angelica’s story)

All Stars Fall (Trevor & Penelope’s story)

Abandon (Ty & Abigail’s story)

Provoke (Braden & Piper’s story)

Surrender (Drew & Bronte’s story)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rachel Van Dyken is the #1 New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of over 90 books ranging from contemporary romance to paranormal. With over four million copies sold, she's been featured in Forbes, US Weekly, and USA Today. Her books have been translated in more than 15 countries. She was one of the first romance authors to have a Kindle in Motion book through Amazon publishing and continues to strive to be on the cutting edge of the reader experience. She keeps her home in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, adorable son, naked cat, and two dogs. For more information about her books and upcoming events, visit www.RachelVanDykenauthor.com.

ALSO BY RACHEL VAN DYKEN

Kathy Ireland & Rachel Van Dyken

Fashion Jungle

Eagle Elite

Elite (Nixon & Trace’s story)

Elect (Nixon & Trace’s story)

Entice (Chase & Mil’s story)

Elicit (Tex & Mo’s story)

Bang Bang (Axel & Amy’s story)

Enforce (Elite + from the boys POV)

Ember (Phoenix & Bee’s story)

Elude (Sergio & Andi’s story)

Empire (Sergio & Val’s story)

Enrage (Dante & El’s story)

Eulogy (Chase & Luciana’s story)

Exposed (Dom & Tanit’s story)

Envy (Vic & Renee’s story)

Elite Bratva Brotherhood

RIP (Nikolai & Maya’s story)

Debase (Andrei & Alice’s story)

Mafia Royals Romances

Royal Bully (Asher & Claire’s story)

Ruthless Princess (Serena & Junior’s story

Scandalous Prince (TBA)

Destructive King (TBA)

Mafia King (TBA)

Fallen Dynasty (TBA)

Cruel Summer Trilogy

Summer Heat (Marlon & Ray’s story)

Summer Seduction (Marlon & Ray’s story)

Summer Nights (Marlon & Ray’s story)

Covet

Stealing Her (Bridge & Isobel’s story)

Finding Him (Julian & Keaton’s story)

Wingmen Inc.

The Matchmaker’s Playbook (Ian & Blake’s story)

The Matchmaker’s Replacement (Lex & Gabi’s story)

Bro Code

Co-Ed (Knox & Shawn’s story)

Seducing Mrs. Robinson (Leo & Kora’s story)

Avoiding Temptation (Slater & Tatum’s story)

The Setup (Finn & Jillian’s story)

The Dark Ones Series

The Dark Ones (Ethan & Genesis’s story)

Untouchable Darkness (Cassius & Stephanie’s story)

Dark Surrender (Alex & Hope’s story)

Darkest Temptation (Mason & Serenity’s story)

Darkest Sinner (Timber & Kyra’s story)

Ruin Series

Ruin (Wes Michels & Kiersten’s story)

Toxic (Gabe Hyde & Saylor’s story)

Fearless (Wes Michels & Kiersten’s story)

Shame (Tristan & Lisa’s story)

Seaside Series

Tear (Alec, Demetri & Natalee’s story)

Pull (Demetri & Alyssa’s story)

Shatter (Alec & Natalee’s story)

Forever (Alex & Natalee’s story)

Fall (Jamie Jaymeson & Pricilla’s story)

Strung (Tear + from the boys POV)

Eternal (Demetri & Alyssa’s story)

Seaside Pictures

Capture (Lincoln & Dani’s story)

Keep (Zane & Fallon’s story)

Steal (Will & Angelica’s story)

All Stars Fall (Trevor & Penelope’s story)

Abandon (Ty & Abigail’s story)

Provoke (Braden & Piper’s story)

Surrender (Drew & Bronte’s story)

The Consequence Series

The Consequence of Loving Colton (Colton & Milo’s story)

The Consequence of Revenge (Max & Becca’s story)

The Consequence of Seduction (Reid & Jordan’s story)

The Consequence of Rejection (Jason & Maddy’s story)

Curious Liaisons

Cheater (Lucas & Avery’s story)

Cheater’s Regret (Thatch & Austin’s story)

Players Game

Fraternize (Miller, Grant and Emerson’s story)

Infraction (Miller & Kinsey’s story)

M.V.P. (Jax & Harley’s story)

Red Card

Risky Play (Slade & Mackenzie’s story)

Kickin’ It (Matt & Parker’s story)

Liars, Inc

Dirty Exes (Colin, Jessie & Blaire’s story)

Dangerous Exes (Jessie & Isla’s story)

The Bet Series

The Bet (Travis & Kacey’s story)

The Wager (Jake & Char Lynn’s story)

The Dare (Jace & Beth Lynn’s story)

The Bachelors of Arizona

The Bachelor Auction (Brock & Jane’s story)

The Playboy Bachelor (Bentley & Margot’s story)

The Bachelor Contract (Brant & Nikki’s story)

Waltzing With The Wallflower — written with Leah Sanders

Waltzing with the Wallflower (Ambrose & Cordelia)

Beguiling Bridget (Anthony & Bridget’s story)

Taming Wilde (Colin & Gemma’s story)

London Fairy Tales

Upon a Midnight Dream (Stefan & Rosalind’s story)

Whispered Music (Dominique & Isabelle’s story)

The Wolf’s Pursuit (Hunter & Gwendolyn’s story)

When Ash Falls (Ashton & Sofia’s story)

Renwick House

The Ugly Duckling Debutante (Nicholas & Sara’s story)

The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (Sebastian & Emma’s story)

The Redemption of Lord Rawlings (Phillip & Abigail’s story)

An Unlikely Alliance (Royce & Evelyn’s story)

The Devil Duke Takes a Bride (Benedict & Katherine’s story)

Other Titles

A Crown for Christmas (Fitz & Phillipa’s story)

Every Girl Does It (Preston & Amanda’s story)

Compromising Kessen (Christian & Kessen’s story)

Divine Uprising (Athena & Adonis’s story)

The Parting Gift — written with Leah Sanders (Blaine and Mara’s story)