Page 93 of Wild and Wanted

It turned out, she just had to open her heart and mind to it. It turned out it was as simple as letting the words out.

His slow grin oozed over her like warm sticky marshmallow dripping from between chocolate-dipped Graham crackers. ‘Yeah?’

She laughed. ‘Yeah.’

‘That, Stevie girl,’ he said, furrowing his fingers into her hair, ‘is very good news.’

He kissed her then, or maybe she kissed him, but they met in the middle, Stevie’s mouth opening to him, welcoming him back, revelling in the flavour of him, the musky essence of him making her dizzy, making her hands shake with need.

Breaking away on a groan, he pressed his forehead to hers, his breath warm on her face, his eyes hot. ‘I’m sorry, I really need a shower. I’ve been out there for five days and trust me, this body needs some soap.’

She smiled. ‘Why don’t I help you with your back?’

His grin turned wolfish and Stevie gave a little squeal as she suddenly found herself swung up into his arms, his powerful quads carrying her up the steps and across his threshold like a bride on her wedding night.

But she was no blushing bride. Not any more.

An hour later they were lying on his bed, thoroughly clean and completely loved up, Stevie cuddled into his side. Clay’s fingers stroked circular patterns on her hip and Stevie sighed at not just the pleasure of the caress but the intimacy.

‘Was the RVR the first choice for the filming?’ he asked, his voice nudging into the afterglow as lazy as the drift of his finger.

Stevie smiled at the slightest hint of amused knowing in his voice. ‘No, it wasn’t. There were four completely different options.’ She rattled them off. ‘Mom had her mind set on the place in Texas.’

‘And how’d you convince her to come here?’

Stevie shrugged a shoulder. ‘I said I wouldn’t go anywhere else.’

He chuckled. ‘Playing the diva card. I like it.’

Stevie’s mouth lifted in a half smile. ‘There’s a first time for everything.’ As they both well knew.

‘So…’ His fingers stopped their circling, his palm flattening against her hip. ‘What happens now?’

Stevie sighed. ‘I don’t know.’ She wished she had an answer for how they were going to navigate going forward. ‘There’s a lot going on with the tour and the label and my agent and the promoters and the fans and the new music and my mom. And Yolly.’

There was always Yolly.

Turning his head, he smiled, his hand resting between them sliding to hers, interlinking their fingers.

‘I know I didn’t know her, Stevie, and you can tell me to butt right out and I swear after this I will, but I feel like I know her a little from the things you’ve told me and it seems to me that she loved you and she wanted only good things for you, right?’

Stevie nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘And she was someone who believed in going after what she wanted.’

‘Yes.’

‘So, do you really think when she knew about your extreme anxiety that she’d expect you, want you, to fulfil some dream of hers after her death? Do you think, if it was possible to see her now and talk to her now, that she’d urge you to do this thing that you don’t want to do? Or would she tell you to do what you wanted with your life? To chase your dreams. To live your life.’

Stevie was mesmerised by the earnestness of his features, his gaze solemn, his words brimming with conviction. And he made a really good point. One she hadn’t considered before because she and her mom had been too tunnel-visioned. Too hell-bent on fulfilling this thing Yolly had wanted when she’d been alive.

But looking at it through the clarity of Clay’s gaze, unencumbered as it was by the tentacles of grief, there was no way her sister would have wanted Stevie to carry it on. She’d have wanted Stevie to do her own thing.

‘She’d tell me to… live my life and… do whatever the fuck I want.’ She laughed then, surprised at how easily she had channelled her sister’s potty mouth. ‘Also’ – she smiled – ‘she’d say, “Good job on the hot cowboy.”’

He laughed too, turning on his side as his hand cupped her cheek. ‘I really wish we’d met.’

‘Yeah.’ Stevie rubbed her cheek against his palm. ‘I do too.’