Page 90 of Before We Break Again
Halsey chuckles softly, nudging him playfully with her elbow.“And just because the boot might come off today,” she says, her tone turning mock-serious, “doesn’t mean you can go running or skating right away.Don’t even think about it.”
I watch as Santos lifts his head, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.“I’m just saying, if the boot comes off, that’s a sign, right?”
“Nope,” Halsey says firmly, her fingers brushing over his chest with a playful tap.“You’ll listen to the doctor, or I’ll personally make sure the boot stays on longer.”
Santos laughs softly, leaning over to press a kiss to her shoulder.“Fine, fine.Whatever you say, doc.”
I smile at the two of them, feeling the easy rhythm we’ve found together—the teasing, the warmth, the love that flows between us so naturally now.
Halsey shifts again, sitting up slightly, the blanket slipping from her shoulders.She glances between us, her eyes glinting with that playful energy she has every morning.“Okay, we should probably get moving before you both decide to fall back asleep.”
“Maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” I say, stretching out beside her, making a show of pulling the blanket back up over my shoulders.“We don’t have to be anywhere just yet.”
She leans down to kiss me on the cheek.“Don’t tempt me.”
Santos chuckles beside us, reaching over to tug at the blanket.“He’s right, though.What’s the rush?”
Halsey looks at us both, clearly trying to resist the temptation of staying in bed a little longer.But I can see the wheels turning in her mind—she’s already planning out the day.I can practically hear her thinking about what needs to get done, about Santos’s appointment, about everything else she has on her plate.
I sit up slightly, propping myself on one elbow, and brush a strand of hair behind her ear.“Hey,” I say softly, drawing her attention back to the moment.“We’ve got time.It’s okay to slow down for a bit.”
Her eyes soften as she looks at me, and for a moment, the world outside this bed—the world with its demands and expectations—fades away.It’s just the three of us, tangled together in the quiet comfort of the morning, and I want to hold onto this for as long as I can.
Halsey
Six months later ...
The lights dim, casting a soft glow over the crowd as the music begins to play.The familiar chords from Dustin’s guitar fill the room, and I feel the excitement buzzing through the air.We’re at Silver Moon, a small, intimate bar in Seattle that somehow feels like the perfect backdrop for nights like this.Nights where we watch him play, where we get to see him pour his heart into every note, every lyric.
I glance over at Santos, who’s sitting beside me in the VIP lounge.His eyes are focused on the stage, his arms are around me.There’s a slight smile tugging at his lips, and I know he’s just as captivated by Dustin as I am.We don’t get to do this often—watch him perform live.
Dustin is in his element up there, the crowd swaying to the music, hanging on every word.He’s still working on his next album, balancing it with his work on the ranch, but moments like this remind me of how much he loves performing.Even if he doesn’t play as often as he used to, there’s something about seeing him on stage that makes my heart flutter and fall in love with him even more.
I lean back in my seat, taking a sip of my drink, letting the music wash over me.The lights flicker across the stage, illuminating Dustin’s figure as he plays, his fingers moving expertly over the strings.He’s captivating, and it’s easy to lose myself in the moment.
But then, I feel Santos shift beside me, his hand moving a little higher on my thigh, his fingers brushing the hem of my shirt.I turn to look at him, and there’s that familiar glint in his eyes—the one that makes my pulse quicken.
“You’re not even watching him,” I tease, glancing over my shoulder at Santos.
“I am,” he replies, his voice low, but his gaze is locked on me now, not the stage.There’s a heat in his eyes that makes my heart race, his smile widening as his hand continues its slow, deliberate exploration, slipping under my t-shirt.His fingers brush lightly against the inside of my thigh, teasing, but never quite giving me what I want.“I’m just ...multitasking.”
I bite my lip, trying to suppress the smile threatening to break free, my pulse quickening under his touch.There’s something about these nights—about being here with Santos, watching Dustin play—that always stirs something deep inside me.Maybe it’s the music, the dim lighting, or the way we fall into this rhythm so easily, so naturally.
“Multitasking, huh?”I murmur, leaning back into him.His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer as his other hand continues to explore beneath my shirt, his fingers brushing higher along my skin.I can feel him pressing against my back, his hard cock making me even more aware of how close we are.Heat pools low in my belly, and I shift slightly in his lap, trying to keep my composure, though I’m already losing the battle.
“And what exactly are you thinking about?”I ask, my voice a little breathless as I press back against him, letting him feel just how much I want him.
His breath hitches slightly, and I hear the low rumble of a chuckle against my ear.“I’m thinking about how long we have to stay here before I can take you back to the hotel,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below my ear.His fingers graze the waistband of my jeans, teasing me, making my body react to every subtle movement.
The music from the stage swells around us, but it feels like we’re in our own world, completely lost in each other.Santos’s grip on my waist tightens as he shifts beneath me, his arousal pressing harder against my back, making it clear he’s just as affected as I am.My breath catches, and I lean back into him even more, feeling the tension building between us, thick and electric.
“Think we’ll make it through the set?”I ask, my voice low, teasing.
Santos groans softly, his lips brushing against my neck again, sending shivers down my spine.“If you keep moving like that, we won’t,” he whispers, his hand slipping lower, fingers grazing just beneath the waistband of my jeans.The tease of it is almost unbearable, and I press my thighs together, aching for him to touch me where I need it most.
He chuckles softly, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, “I’m thinking about how fast we can get back to the hotel so we can ...celebrate.”
I turn my head slightly, catching his lips with mine in a slow, lingering kiss.“You’re impossible,” I whisper.“But we’re here to listen to our man.We can of course fool around and be ready for when he’s done.”
