“I love you.”
“I love you, too. Thanks for cheering me up.”
“Always.” He grinned. He lowered his head to kiss the area behind my ear that was quickly becoming my favorite spot. “Then I get to do this.”
“Hmm. I also like this.” We kissed deeper.
Our hands roamed each other’s bodies greedily. Soon we were on the floor, mostly naked. He slid into me and I gasped. We panted and ground against each other. Every time was better than the last.
“Why can we never make it to a bed?” I asked a few minutes later, now dressed and under control.
“Beds are overrated.”
He helped me to stand and we looked at all the boxes still stacked in his foyer.
“We better get going. Or we will be very late. We can finish unpacking your stuff later.”
“Screw unpacking, I want to do that again.”
“I could handle that.”
His eyes drifted to the box of notes, half spilled from our fooling around.
“What’s this?” he asked handing me one of the notes.
“That’s the note you sent while I was in rehab.”
“I didn’t send you a note in rehab. I was already on tour and I didn’t know about all that until later.”
I blinked at him in surprise. “Really?”
“Really,” he said.
We bent our heads to read the note, now seeing noticeably different handwriting. “Just keep playing.”
“I’d just assumed it was you. Well, the author of the notes.”
He shook his head.
“Huh.” I shoved the notes away. “Not important. Let’s get going. We need to tell Andy-Dick about our plans.”
“I regret telling you I called them that,” he said.
“It’s hilarious. They’re all right though. At least they love our idea for a Christine Day/Erik Jones concert.”
“Of course they do—it’ll sell out in minutes.” He squeezed my hand. “I had an idea. What if we donate all of our portion of the proceeds to help teens who have gotten addicted to drugs? Help them get on a better path.”
My heart swelled in my chest. Just when I didn’t think I could possibly love him more. “Genius. I know Ford has a lot of connections for just that sort of thing. I’ll text Suzie tonight. My rehab changed my life, but not everybody can afford that level of personalized help.”
He kissed my forehead.
“It’ll be so weird to perform as them now,” I said.
“People love a good love story. Plus, they’re just our stage names. Not who we are. It helps to keep it separate. Being on stage with you is all that counts.”
“Ditto.” I held his face and looked deep into his eyes. “You know, none of that mattered to me. Your big tough guy act, the pop star background. Everything I love about you, is you.”
“Once I understood that, none of the other stuff mattered to me either. Thank you for loving me.”
