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“Little Star,” he murmurs with lust-filled eyes dilating his pupils to the max.
“I dunno, Pretty Girl. I might like that. Or, and hear me out—I could stab you. With my dick. He’s incredibly hard right now. You won’t make me go on stage like this, will you?” He bats his eyelashes at me with a grin.
“Shut up,” Asher laughs, reaching across and grabbing another chip.
“You are a buzzkill!” Rad proclaims, eating a bite of my nachos.
“I guess this is a communal plate,” I grumble, taking another bite, no longer fighting their grabby hands.
“We have to fuel up,” Kieran says with a smirk, taking another bite.
“We do have a big show ahead of us,” Asher surmises, sitting next to Rad.
“The biggest one yet.” Callum smiles, kissing me again. “I can’t get over this,” he murmurs against my lips. My fingers play with the shaggy blond strands at the back of his neck.
“Over what?”
“That I get to kiss you whenever I want now. No more dreaming of having my lips on yours and wondering if it feels the same.”
“Well, does it?” I ask, raising a brow.
“Does it what?”
“Feel the same?”
“Better,” he whispers, kissing my lips again, lingering for longer than necessary as the world disappears. It’s only me and him standing amid the crowded bar. His warm hand wraps around the back of my neck, locking me in his grip. Not that I’d want to escape. “Kissing you is coming home. It’s my peace in the darkness of chaos. You ground me and make me better.”
“Marry them!” Ode says in passing, passing drinks to the guys.
“I agree, Pretty Girl. Marry us!” Rad waggles his brows.
“Maybe someday,” I quip, shoving the last nacho into my mouth.
Fuckers ate all my damn food. I side-eye their oblivious asses with disdain.
“Later,” Leon says with a grin, pointing to my plate as he takes it from the bar and hands it to another worker.
“Someday?” Rad asks with wide eyes, sitting rigid in his chair. “I’ll ask again tomorrow and the next day and the next day after that. I won’t stop begging until you become my wife.”
“Our wife,” Kieran mutters, reaching for a nacho and sighing. “We ate them all,” he grumbles.
“Yeah, you assholes ate all the good nachos. That’s grounds for divorce. Now, don’t you have a show to do?” I ask, playfully folding my arms across my chest.
A lightness takes me over as we grin at one another. It’s as if the past didn’t happen. And we’re back to where we started, like a full-circle adventure.
We’ll build and build until our future is secured on trust and love—a steady foundation.
We’ll never be perfect. We’ll fight. Shout. And make-up again. For some reason, I can’t ever get these four men off my mind.
My ears bleedwith the crowd’s enthusiastic screams as the boys take the stage.
“Hello, Central City!” Kieran shouts through the microphone, heaving a breath.
I won’t mention the way his tight T-shirt clings to his sweaty chest, highlighting his delicious and defined pecs. Or, you know, the way his tight jeans outline the package he’s smuggling. Nope. I won’t mention it at all. My lips are sealed…
“You want more tequila, horndog?” Ode asks, slapping my shoulder with a giggle, knocking me out of my horny thoughts.
My face heats, creeping down my neck. I’m sure I look like Rudolph, the red-faced whore, by now. I grunt, covering my face with my hands.
