Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“There’s paparazzi taking photos of us.”
She whips her head back to look, her hair flying over her shoulders. “Where?” she asks.
“Down at the corner. They’re not great at hiding. Most of the time, they don’t bother. They want that picture, the face front photo. It sells better for them.” She scoots to the curb next to me and sits with her head lowered. “A photo of us kissing . . .” I scrub a hand over my face. “Fuck.”
“What do we do?”
“I’ll call Rochelle. She’ll take care of it.”
Wrapping her arms around her legs, she asks, “Who’s Rochelle?”
“She’s the one who handles these situations for the bands at Outlaw Records.”
“Does she also happen to be the one who gets you phone numbers not listed and addresses of places of business?”
Chuckling, I sit beside her. “I’m not one to give away my sources.”
She nudges me and then laughs. “So tell me, rock star, how long do we need to hide out?”
“Well, that’s where it gets tricky. We need a plan.”
Her eyes light up like Christmas morning has come early. “I love a plan.”
Two hours . . . I managed to distract the paparazzi long enough to get her inside so she could work, but I ended up driving around half of LA to keep them busy.
Five Weeks Later . . .
The photos never came out. Neither did the truth about the marriage.
I never claimed to be the hero of her story. I was always meant to be the villain. So I left the truth out by omission. She even lost her house because of this mess. I don’t want to be the one who breaks her heart over it twice. Kill the messenger . . . yeah, no thanks.
I’ve wanted to tell her but we’ve both been busy, and I don’t want to waste the time I do get with her on frivolous details like, “You know how we thought we were married for the past year? We’re not. Want to head down to the courthouse and get the deed finalized?” Yeah, that doesn’t roll off the tongue. You know what does? Her sweet cli—
“Yes. Yes. Yes, lord of the stage.” She gets me every time with it.
“Fuck yes!” I hit my peak just as she reaches hers. Our bodies align in a release of ecstasy. But it’s when we’re lying in the aftermath, Cat cuddled to my side, that I finally get the nerve to say, “Move in with me.”
Her breathing had been steady, but it stops altogether. Lifting onto an elbow, she finds my eyes through the moonlight in her bedroom. Before she has time to overthink it, I caress her cheeks and ask, “Will you move in with me, babe?”
Resting her hand over my heart, she replies, “I want to live with you, but you live so far from my assignments. I leave by six to make it to work by eight when I stay over there.”
“There’s nothing reasonable about my request. I stay here when we’re together because I don’t have a morning job to report to. So I get it. But I want us together. I want to come home from the road and have you there. I want your stuff and your books around my living room, your mugs in my cabinet. I want you lying on the chaise at the end of a long day like you love to do. Cat, I want you.”
She lies back down, her head on my chest and her leg over mine like I hadn’t said anything at all. “Babe?” I whisper.
“I want all those things with you, too.” Tilting her head up again, she says, “It’s a really long commute two times a day, upward of two hours in either direction.”
“I’ll buy you a house. Anywhere you want it. You can have your garden and flowers filling the beds. Kittens. I’ll buy you as many kittens as you want even though they become cats. Anything you want.”
Sliding up higher, she strokes her fingers through my hair and smiles. “Let’s start with what we have and grow from there. For you, I’ll commute. When you’re touring, I can stay at the apartment.”
“Or you can come with me. Not give up your career. I know how much you love it. Just to the show in Albuquerque. I can fly you out Friday after work. We’ll come back Sunday. What do you think?”
“I’d love to see you play live, lord of the stage.” She can’t even say it with a straight face. It surprises me she can climax to it. That makes two of us.
“I still can’t get over the fact you were the secret woman Shane was dating.” Nikki hugs Cat again when we run into each other backstage.
“It’s been a whirlwind,” Cat replies.
“All the best romances are,” she says. “Hey, can I ask you a favor? This dress has a hook that’s come undone . . .”