AllFreeNovel
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I go to his closet, open one of the built-in drawers, and find my underwear. I can’t help but laugh. He’s insane to have kept all of this. Another drawer holds several pairs of jeans, leggings, and shirts. I tug a pair of jeans on over a pair of thick leggings and grab a long-sleeved t-shirt. Hanging on the rack behind me, I find a sweater. God, you’d think I lived here with all these clothes.
“Your boots are in the corner.”
I look over my shoulder and see the fuzzy boots next to his motorcycle boots. After I grab them, I face him. He leans against the door, arms folded across his chest, watching me. I sit on the bench and put on my shoes as I ask, “Why did you keep everything?”
“Because I’m not a petty, spoiled, entitled brat.” My head snaps up, eyes narrowed, ready to lash out. Then I try something new with him. I think before I speak. And the way I’ve acted the last few months…
And now, shame flushes my cheeks. Instead of throwing out a retort, I lower my head, returning my to task, wishing it took more than thirty seconds.
I stand, rubbing my palms over my thighs. “Okay, let’s go.”
When I reach the door, he doesn’t budge. His rough hands cup my cheeks before gripping my chin and tilting my head. “I kept them because I was determined to hang onto every piece of you I could, no matter how insignificant.”
“I was a brat.”
“Just so happens I kind of like brats, but from this moment on, no more thinking about the last nine months. We’re starting over. Or picking up where we left off. Whatever you want to call it. Except this time, you will be in my bed every night and waking up in my arms every day.”
“You were serious?”
“As a mother fucking heart attack.”
“What if I’m not ready to move in with you? Maybe I need us to slow down and really start fresh.”
His arm wraps around me, lifting me off the ground. My legs wrap around him without thought. “Tough. Shit. I warned you, and you came here anyway.”
“But I needed to see you.”
“Should’ve had Tony call me down. Your fuck up. Not mine.”
“I was distraught! This is imprisonment.”
I can’t keep my face straight any longer when his arms tighten around me and says, “Sucks for you.”
He carries me through the apartment and to the elevators. When I try to get down, he growls. “Nope. You get down when I’m ready.”
I cling to him with the widest smile I’ve had in months. When the elevator stops at the garage level, he continues with me in his arms until we reach his SUV, and he opens the door and sits me on the seat. He leans over me, no doubt a reason to keep touching me, and reaches into the backseat. A familiar pale purple Moncler down jacket is set in my lap when he pulls back. “You really kept everything.”
His lips land on mine as he fumbles around in the center console, then tosses a pair of vegan leather gloves on top of the jacket with a wink. “Everything.”
“So, where are we going?” I ask once we’re moving.
He reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips, then places it on his thigh, keeping it covered with his. “We have months of lost time to make up for.”
“I thought you said no more talk of that,” I huff, then scrunch my nose. “And I figured we’d do that in bed.”
“Oh, we’ll do plenty of that, too,” he chuckles as we maneuver through traffic. “But you have a busy schedule ahead. You’ll start recording this week. Plus, you’re getting marketing material done—photoshoots, album covers, social media promos. Then you have a few interviews lined up and more small venues to play, like Nashville. Then you’re on tour with Sons of Sin and Jacob’s Ladder.”
“Wow.” I knew all of that was in the works, but hearing it all like that—all at once—feels daunting and overwhelming. “That’s a lot.”
“I know.”
My attention turns out the window. The buildings, traffic, and the people all pass in a blur as I try to wrap my head around everything. It happens over the next several months, but if these last few weeks have taught me anything, it’s that time flies. It’s only the end of February, but recording will take several weeks because studio time is scheduled months in advance. Mine was not, but nepotism is real. Then there are the interviews, promos, and release.
The tour doesn’t start until the first week of July and only lasts six weeks because Ryder’s wife is due to give birth to their second child at the end of September. I’m low-key shocked he even agreed to go on the tour, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see Angel step into his slot for a few shows. It’s the benefit of having a five-man band. There’s always a backup player.
The point is, if I blink, I know it will be July.
I’m so lost in thought, I don’t even realize we’ve stopped until my door opens. Liam takes my hand, helping me out, then locks up the car. We walk down the busy sidewalk for several minutes, me tucked close to his side, talking about nothing in particular until I realize where we are. Wariness and confusion scrunch my face as I stare at the line in front of us. “What are we doing?”
