Page 80 of This Side of Beautiful

My voice barely made a sound. “How did you get that?”

“Brian sent it. Said this was the cover of your single.”

Landon shifted uncomfortably.

I swallowed hard. “You cool with it?”

He mumbled, “The group decided.”

But his jaw was tight. His hands flexed against his thighs. And for the first time, I realized. He wasn’t okay with it.

And neither was I.

May 15

I was naked in his bed, waiting anxiously to talk to him. I’d been out most of the day and night shopping and taking in a Broadway show, making amends with Frankie and Jeri while he was holed up in the studio. I loved that Landon had nothing to hide. He’d given me his code to his brownstone and cell without asking, as if we already shared his home. He may have had the money to have a separate residence for his women and multiple phones like previous men in my life, but he didn’t play games.

However, he did have his ways. He preferred order in his home and liked things just so. I could not move things around without asking first, though he was always open to my suggestions. Sometimes he drifted off mid-conversation, his mind pulled toward music or astronomy. Other times he made a comment that stung without meaning to.

But none of it ever felt like a flaw, just part of who he was. More than anyone I had ever known, he listened when I spoke, adjusted when I needed him to, and cared in ways that went beyond words. That was why I knew he would hear me now. I needed his help to change the cover, and if anyone could make it happen, it was him.

The sounds of the code being entered through the system built into his headboard signaled that Landon was home, and I was both excited and irritated to see him. It was after two in the morning, and we hadn’t spoken since he’d returned to the studio at the break of dawn.

He smiled when he saw me. “After an exhausting day, I’m so glad you stayed here with me. I love coming home to you in my bed.”

“It feels like home already to me,” I admitted.

“Good.” He leaned over and kissed me, and I gripped his hand before he moved away. “You know I need to shower before I get in bed.”

“I’ve been waiting to talk to you for hours.”

He replied warily, “I was in the studio.”

“I know where you were. You didn’t call me.”

“I would have, but Cedrick said you and your squad were going to see a musical.”

“Hours ago, Landon.”

He stood up to his full height. “Okay, I’m here now. What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the song we just did together that went number one and the cover that doesn’t include me. I texted you that I needed to talk.”

“You told me that you were good with the cover. What else is there for us to talk about?” He took off his hat and tossed it on the bench.

“So, you only reach out when you think something’s wrong?”

His shirt joined his hat. “Don’t start that when you know I am here for you.”

“Your phone went to voicemail.”

Landon frowned, dropped his cell on the table beside the bed, and headed to the bathroom. “Shower and then talk.”

“No.” I hit the mattress.

He sighed loudly. “Why? Maybe I want to get clean, relax, and then talk. You can wait a few more minutes.”

“It won’t kill you to strip and get in the bed now.” I patted the space next to me.

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