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And I feel so much for him, so much…
It’s insane, really. I know it is.
I mean, it’s been a matter of days, only…
And he’s so possessive over me already. He says I’m his.
He said over and over again that I have the perfect name for him to use.
Mia.Mine…
And there’s this part of me that just knows it’s true. Iamreally his already.
I can feel it in the way he holds me and… I love it.
I can’t deny that I do.
But is he mine?
Does he really want to be?
Why would he want to be with me?
He’s a billionaire. A rock star. Everybody wants him, loves him. He has droves of adoring fans.
And who am I in comparison?
I can’t love him for the things everyone else loves about him. I can’t hear him singing… can’t hear him play his heart on those strings the way he seems to do every time he picks up an instrument.
I’m just… me. A little nerd with too many curves, a mountain of student loans, an anonymous life in a business-like city, and aconditionthat makes people uncomfortable.
And… I’m not perfect.
People… hearing-people most of the time they either walk all over me, or they walk out on me.
Why should I believe that he is the man who wants to hold onto me?
How can I trust this? Him?
Sure, I can trust my own heart. I know what it’s been saying since the moment I first saw Carson. I got its message. But what about Carson’s heart?
Can I really trust it to keep mine safe?
Can I throw caution to the wind and really believe that the strong, big arms that even now are circling me really want to hold me forever?
Or am I an oddity to him?
Something different.
A new flavor, maybe…
Some passing fancy.
I mean, sure, now he feels strongly, and I know he’s not lying to me, but don’t artists always feel strongly about stuff one moment and bored with it the next?
Flighty. Rock stars are flighty. They burn hot fast, then they run cold on you, leaving you behind for the next conquest, the next muse.
I’ve read all about it.
