Page 179 of Dirty Like Dylan

I let her drive the kiss, just enjoying all her sweet and soft and warm, and hoping, selfishly, that it was all gonna be for me—always.

“I love you, Dylan Cope.” She pulled back a bit and peered up into my eyes. “And I’m telling you, right now, there’s no one else for me.”

* * *

While the band got set up and comfortable—which involved Seth arranging pillows for Elle where she sat on the couch, Zane one-way flirting with Maggie, and Jesse fussing over which guitar to play—Amber and Katie headed across the street to pick up coffee for those who wanted it.

Brody had stopped by, but he wasn’t staying. Usually he spent more time checking in on us when we were recording, hanging out, but this was the first time he’d been into the studio since his son was born.

I pulled him aside when I sensed he was trying to slip out.

“I’m bringing Amber on tour,” I told him.

He stared at me. “Okay.” If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. He also didn’t exactly look thrilled, because bringing another body on tour meant a hike in expenses—which would come straight out of my paycheck—but he knew he could hardly say no to me. Jesse was already bringing Katie, and just because they were married didn’t give them special privileges.

“And I want her to be our tour photographer.”

At that, Brody sighed, like he knew from the look in my eyes this conversation wasn’t gonna end the way he wanted it to.

“We already have a tour photographer,” he said. “One who’s got a ton of experience shooting bands, including Dirty.”

“Then he’ll have other bands to shoot,” I said, fucking firmly. I wasn’t backing down on this. “He doesn’t need this. Amber needs this. I need this.”

Brody just stared at me some more, taking that in. I knew it was unheard of for me to make this kind of request. I also knew about the requests the other guys in the band made, on a regular basis, in pursuit of pleasing a woman.

Jesse with his cherry-vanilla lattes for Katie. Zane with his jellybeans for Maggie, purple, orange and red only. Seth with his special chairs with all the cushions for Elle; since they’d announced she was pregnant, he was stuffing pillows behind her back every fucking place they went.

Not to mention that we’d already hired Katie as an artist; Brody could hardly cry nepotism on this. The ship had sailed on that.

So I returned his look, steady. “When have I ever asked for anything for a woman, on tour with me, in the studio, backstage, anywhere?”

We both knew the answer to that: never.

“How about Ash?” Brody challenged. “You bring him along everywhere, like he’s your wife.”

I’d expected to get some digs like that, now that Amber and I were a couple. Because everyone would want to know how it had played out. And where Ash now stood.

Why he wasn’t around as much anymore.

But really, family or not, it was none of their fucking business.

Ash deserved the respect of privacy, and anyway, I was never gonna tell anyone besides Amber what really went down between us.

“Yeah,” I said. “Well. Now I’m bringing Amber.”

* * *

In the end, Brody let me have my way. He had more important shit to deal with right now anyway, what with a brand new baby at home. He looked like he hadn’t slept much, and he wasn’t gonna battle me over our tour photographer, when all it would take was one phone call to let the other guy down and make me happy.

I walked him out to his truck and told him not to worry.

“She’d better be good,” he said, his tone insinuating that I’d be hearing about it if she wasn’t.

“She take good photos of you and your woman and your newborn son?” I asked, knowing full well she had—she’d showed them to me.

And he shut right up.

“Give my love to Jessa,” I said, trying to soften my demand by kissing up a bit. “We’ll swing by on the weekend with food.”

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