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He shrugged. “No buts. I get it.”
God fucking damn it.
“I’m mad at him,” I murmured. “At Maddox. And Jeremy. I dunno. At the whole mess.”
“I know.”
My gaze shot to his. He knew. Of course he did.
“I know it’s not Maddox’s fault,” I said. I let my head fall back and I groaned. “Fuck.”
“It wasn’t just his decision,” Luke said. “We all sat around that table and said we were done. One more album, then it was over. It was time.”
“I know.” And Ididknow that. Fucking hell. “And then you chose him to talk to instead of me, and I was so fucking mad.” I relented because that wasn’t true either. “Okay, I was scared. Fucking terrified, and I had someone I could pin it to.”
“It wasn’t his fault.”
“I know.” I held up a finger. “But—” He smiled and waited. “—he still chose you over me.”
“I asked him to.”
“And I begged him to help me. He saw me, literally on the floor, sobbing over photos of us, and he still said nothing. So I’m allowed to be mad at him. Even Becca yelled at him.”
“I didn’t know who else to talk to,” Luke whispered. “I was losing my mind at the cabins that day, and he turned up and I... I had to talk to someone, and I couldn’t tell you.”
I sighed. I understood, I really did, but gawd.
“Blake, you need to talk to him.”
I groaned, though it was more a whine. “I know.” We both sat in silence for a while, everything settling around us. I was adamant about starting this new life with Luke. I wanted it to be me and him forever. New house, new music, new life.
But that meant letting go first.
“We need to go home, don’t we,” I said. Also not a question.
He looked at me, slid his hand over mine, and smiled. “Yeah.”
SEVENTEEN
Once I’d mademy mind up about going home, I was excited about it. We managed to get business-class tickets on a flight. It wasn’t a private plane, much to my dismay, but it was better than economy.
Luke only called me a spoiled princess three times.
The first time was funny. Second time, not so much. Third time, I pushed him onto the bed and had my first taste of dick.
Literally.
I’d kissed him and spread his legs, bucking up into him, and he was hard in no time. It was such a fucking thrill to turn him on, to feel him writhe, and the sounds he made—groans and grunts—should be illegal.
I had no issue with jacking him off. It was hot as fuck, especially when we did it together. But I’d wanted to make this all about him, and watching his cock slide through my fist was as fascinating as it was sexy.
I was curious to see what he tasted like.
I moved down between his legs and he watched me until I grinned at him and he let his head fall back onto the bed with a groan. I licked him and his hand fisted my hair.
That was hot too.
Like, what the fuck?
