Page 106 of The Only Thing That's Real

Brushing her off, I lift my T-shirt to my face to clean myself. “I want to have the scent of you on me while I’m out there tonight. My face, my hands, and now my shirt.”

She smooths out her clothes as she walks around me to check her makeup in the mirror. “You are unwell, old man.”

“You love it.”

All playfulness vanishes from her face as her eyes find mine in the mirror. “I do.”

My heart thunders against my chest, hopeful she means what I think she means.

Another knock on the door disrupts the moment.

“Yep, on my way!” I yell. Grabbing her hand, I drag her across the room. “You look spectacular.”

Trevor is in the hallway waiting for us when we emerge. He hands me my in-ear monitors but doesn’t say a word. Neither do we as we hold hands on our way to the stage where the rest of the band is waiting.

The guys say hello to Ryan, while I adjust my earpieces before we head into the darkness that leads us to one of the last performances of our careers.

The melancholy overtaking the last few shows has evaporated. I’m excited about this new stage of my life to come. As long as the woman holding my hand is there, I think it may end up being the better half of my life.

Sean takes his place behind his drum kit and Matt and Jay strap on their instruments and get into position, waiting for me to take center stage behind the mic. But there’s something I need to do first.

Turning to Ryan in the darkness, I take her sweet, freckled face in my hands, making sure I have her full attention. “Ryan Jameson, I love you. I aminfucking love with you.”

She smiles back at me, chocolate eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“I love you more.”

Chapter Fifty-Three

Ryan

Not one to encourage sleepovers with the men I’ve shared a bed with, I surprisingly love waking tangled up in Knox. We’ve both just opened our eyes and are doing that annoying thing couples do in movies: lying on our sides, staring at each other.

His long locks are wild, spread out over his pillow. Unable to keep my hands to myself, I lazily run my fingers through his hair. His eyes are bright as his fingers trail up and down the side of my body.

I’d never seen him as happy as he was last night. He gave the performance of a lifetime. He also made a point of finding me in the wings every time he lifted his shirt to dry his sweaty face, inhaling deeply like the maniac he is. During the break before the band’s encore, he rushed to me, kissing me senseless.Telling me there was no way I could possibly love him more than he loved me.

As though I didn’t believe him the first time, he has repeatedly told me he loved me.

In bed. While he was inside me. As I fell asleep. This morning, as we lay here basking in the afterglow of a perfect night. But I burst our bubble.

“I have to meet with the magazine today.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I have to tell them about us.”

“Will they care?”

“Well, after the media fiasco last week, they called and asked me point-blank if there was something going on between the two of us. I panicked and fed them some crap about you protecting me like I was your sister or something like that. I’m about to look real stupid when I tell them the truth.”

He stiffens under my touch. “Why did you lie?”

I can hear his self-doubt creeping back in, and that won’t do. “I was scared. The tabloids wouldn’t shut up about the fight and I was being stalked by the paparazzi. I didn’t want to look unprofessional on top of everything else. I was afraid they’d fire me, and I panicked.”

Rolling to his back, he brings me with him positioning me so my head is on his shoulder, our legs tangling.

“I’m gonna make Goose Hollow home base when this is all over. I’ll keep a place in the City and in L.A. but I’m gonna put roots down in Oregon. I want you to come with me.”

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