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“We weren’t making babies—”
“Later, Taters!” he shouts to Tatum and blows an air-kiss at me. “Kinky, looking fetch girlfriend, don’t let it go to waste tonight.” He winks and disappears inside.
I sigh and whirl to Tatum.
“I’m still trying to figure out how the hell he got past gate security. I told them not to bother us tonight unless it was a serious emergency.”
“TJ is very resourceful and persuasive.”
“It scares me he has a key. Do you think he truly left the house, or is he going to jump out and hug us in the middle of the night? I could picture him hiding under our bed like Chase does.”
“It’s a definite possibility.” I shrug and smile. “I might have given TJ and Connor a key in case of emergencies.”
“Kiki.” Tatum pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s why I have Brad and a security team. In case of emergencies.”
“I’m old school, I can’t help it. I mean, why wouldn’t I give my best friend a key to my house? He’s always had one.”
“Because he’s certifiable.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and laugh against his chest. “I know, but I love him.”
“I know you do.” Tatum lifts my chin and kisses my lips.
“I’m sorry he interrupted us,” I whisper.
“It’s okay.” Tatum’s hooded eyes lower as he dips his head and captures my lips with his. Swiping his tongue over mine, they tangle together as he presses into me, his hardness making my knees buckle.
He breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to mine, both of us gasping for air. He swipes his thumb over my lips. “I’ll never get tired of kissing these bee-stung lips.”
I look at him tenderly and brush a lock of hair off his forehead. “Good, because you’re stuck with me.”
“There’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with.” He kisses my nose.
“Even when your pants ripped in the crotch on stage and I gave you my Mr. Kitty tank to wear, causing a social media circus that plagues you still to this day?”
He smirks. “Even then.”
“Even when I dye your favorite shirt pink?”
“It’s a jersey, not a shirt.”
“You know what I mean. Even when I dye your jersey?”
“I mean, that sucked because it was an original, but yes, even when you dye my beloved signed Wayne Gretzky jersey pink.”
“Even when I accidentally broke your favorite guitar and blamed it on Chase?”
“Hold up.Youbroke it? You blatantly lied to my face and blamed it on your firstborn?”
I nibble my lip. “It was an accident. I was dusting and it fell off the shelf.”
He arches an eyebrow. “You don’t dust, and it wasn’t on a shelf. It was hanging on the wall with the others.”
I blow out a breath. “Fine, I was getting it down to use as a prop in one of my pictures, and I accidentally knocked it off the wall. I didn’t mean to.”
He bites his lip and hangs his head, shaking it. “Even when you break my favorite guitar, I’d still want to be stuck with you.” He sighs heavily and looks me in the eye. “Any more confessions you’d like to share tonight, Coffee Girl?”
“Would you still want to be stuck with me if I told you a little white stick showed two little pink lines?”
