Jesus, my wife was feisty.

First she told me she was so scared she was gonna puke, then she blindsided me with an emotional toast that got me all choked up, then she screwed the hell out of me in the ladies’ room of the restaurant… Then I woke up in my hotel bed in the morning to find her binding my wrists over my head with my own belt and climbing on top of me.

I was hard as fuck, because she’d woken me up from a really good dream… Although, on second thought, maybe she’d caused the dream. She was running her hands all over my naked body and who knew how long she’d been doing that?

She was kissing her way down my stomach, too, nibbling and full-on biting as she went, and goosebumps broke out all over me.

“Shit, woman… what’re you doing…?” I asked sleepily, not really caring what the answer was as long as she kept doing that.

Maggie bit my hip, then swirled her tongue over the spot where she’d probably left little teeth marks.

“I just really, really need to taste you,” she whispered in her husky-sweet morning voice, her warm breath tickling my skin. Her soft fingertips drifted over my rigid dick and I tensed all over. Every nerve was waking up and sparking to life, and I groaned as she licked her way down to my dick. “I need to fuck you, right now…”

But she didn’t fuck me.

She took a deep breath instead, her nose against my skin, smelling me. Making little mmmmm noises as she brushed her lips over my skin, licking and teasing, but never putting her mouth anywhere close enough to my cock.

“Oh God,” she gushed, like she was almost in pain. “You smell so good. Like, I smell you and I have to have you, immediately. It’s an automatic response…”

“Welcome to my life…”

She grunted a bit of a laugh as she sat up and finally threw her leg over me. She was straddling my hips on her knees, and I felt the warmth and the softness of her bare pussy just brushing against my dick, and it was pure torture.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” she informed me, almost in a daze. As I looked up at her in the hazy morning light, her lips were swollen from kissing me and her eyelids were low. “Without a condom. But you have to make sure you don’t come inside me.” She reached down between her legs to grasp my cock and stroke me, twisting slowly as she spoke. “You have to warn me and I’ll get off.”

“Get off…?”

She smirked as she angled my dick where she wanted it. “Get off your dick, I mean.”

“Okay, but—”

She started pushing down onto me, and the words failed in my open mouth. I groaned as I filled her. She was wet and so fucking tight, and it felt like pure, sweet heaven being squeezed by her. If there was an actual heaven, I couldn’t imagine it being any better than this.

Maggie, horny, and taking control of me…

Sure, I could’ve bucked her off and seized control, even with my hands belted above my head.

But where was the fun in that?

Fuck that.

I just lay here, spread out on the bed, my bound arms limp above my head, as Maggie fucked me in an eager but semi-slow rhythm, her mouth open and sexy little sounds coming out, her hands planted on my chest, fingers curling into my skin, her nails digging deep into my pecs.

“Just don’t come too fast okay?” she said, gazing down at me.

“Uh-huh… fuck, you’re sexy.”

“Just wait… just wait a while, while I fuck you…”

“Yeah, babe.”

I did as she told me to, as the tension and the pressure built between us. Tingles moved up and down my spine. My balls tightened. My nipples fucking throbbed.

I could’ve easily come fast if that’s what she wanted, but my cock was in its happy place, so why rush? Normally, I might’ve been happy to fuck her fast and furious, so we could just do it again right afterwards.

I was greedy like that.

Usually, Maggie was, too.

But she was in no hurry right now.

My dick was definitely loving it, but the rest of me was getting restless, impatient to take over and fuck those husky little screams out of her. And the more I thought about that, the harder it was not to come.

“Can I come yet?” I asked her as she rode me faster, losing her rhythm as her own pleasure built.

“No, you can’t come yet.”

“Holy shit, Maggie.” I groaned, fucking suffering. “Don’t be cruel…”

“I’m not cruel. I’m incredibly kind. You feel what’s happening to your dick right now…?”

I laughed, fucking delirious with arousal and pleasure. More than that… I was happy. Like really fucking happy.

If this was my life?

For the rest of my life…?

I was gonna die one day a very happy man.

“I love you,” I told her, sincerely. “But please come on my dick before I die.”

A slow smile spread across Maggie’s face. Then she switched up her moves. Instead of the up-and-down thing she’d been doing pretty steadily, she started grinding back and forth a little with each thrust, working her body against mine exactly how she needed it. The smile faded and her breaths got raspier. Her nails clawed deeper into my chest.

“Don’t come,” she gasped. And then she came with a soft scream and a couple of jerks of her hips. She dropped her head as she moaned and her silky hair brushed my skin.

“Maggie… let me see your face.”

She lifted her head and her gray eyes met mine as she kept riding me, slowly and jerkily. She was still coming, still in ecstasy.

And fuck, I wanted my hands back. I wanted them on her face, on her tits and all up inside her.

“Babe. Babe, you gotta move…”

But I didn’t wait for her to move. I just rolled, taking her with me. I managed to loop my belted arms around her as she tumbled onto her side on the bed. I snapped my hips up, hammering into her a few times, my dick switching into autopilot mode.

Then I pulled out, and she caught my dick in her hands just as I came. She smoothed her hands up and down my shaft as I shot on her stomach with a groan. She rolled her palm over the head of my cock and pressed her body tight against mine. My come was smeared all over both of us.

We kissed and just lay like this for a long time. Kissing, breathing… hearts pounding. I closed my eyes and I could feel her pulse, beating against me.

Eventually, I found my voice. “I’m all sticky.”

“Me too.” I didn’t even have to open my eyes to know she was smiling.

“I’m lying in the wet spot. Is that love or what?”

“Hate to tell you. We’re both in the wet spot.”

I tugged halfheartedly at the belt that still bound my wrists behind her back. “I can’t get up. Nothing works.”

“Same here.”

“I’ve lost the feeling in my hands.”

She laughed. “Poor baby.”

Yup; feisty as fuck.

* * *

After the killer morning sex, we had breakfast in the hotel room, then showered together. Predictably, we ended up having more sex in the shower… steamy, slow sex.

Maybe it was because she’d unbelted my hands and they were now free to roam all over her hot, slippery-wet body, but I literally could not keep my hands off her.

I hiked her legs up around my hips and screwed her up against the wall… Then I washed her and dried her, too.

Then we stood at the his-and-her sinks and got ready for our day together, and you know what?

It was the best morning I’d ever had.

Ever.

Had plenty of mornings waking up in a pile of naked chicks with a hangover, and those were alright, too. For different reasons. Glad I’d experienced them, in a way.

But this?

I wouldn’t trade this for anything. Just hanging out with Maggie, listening to her talk about what she had to do today (I’d asked her), and how she felt about the big announcement at dinner last night (I’d also asked), and watching her get dressed. Just being close to her and doing stupid regular shit. Enjoying each other.

No drama or fighting.

Feeling all cozy with her in the hotel suite, with the fireplace on and the lights dimmed low as we gradually started our day. Soaking up the husky-soft sound of her voice and the feminine scents of her lotion and the girly stuff she put in her hair.

And all her little idiosyncrasies.

The way she laid her toothbrush and toothpaste perfectly parallel to one another and perpendicular to the edge of the counter.

The way she jiggled her tits into her bra cups and hiked them up—no idea how I’d missed that maneuver before.

The way she flattened her naturally-straight hair with a straightener and fussed over it until it was glossy-smooth.

The way she answered her phone, “Hey, sweet stuff,” when Katie called. I’d never heard that one before, but it was cute as shit. We were out in the living room and she was organizing shit in her purse when her phone rang; she even did this girly laugh, then gave me a dirty look, taking the phone into the bathroom when she realized I was listening.

Cute.

So cute, I was probably gonna have to fuck her again—asap.

Shitty fact: I was definitely gonna mess up her hair while I did it, and she was gonna be annoyed about it.

Too bad.

Shittier fact: I really didn’t have time to do it right now. Had to get to the venue.

Where the fuck was everybody, anyway?

I dropped onto the couch and checked my phone. It was a little earlier than I’d planned to head out, but fuck it. I was anxious to get going. So I sent a chat to the band.

Me: ready to go?

I texted Shady to let him know I was ready to leave.

Then Jesse responded to the chat.

Jesse: What time you going down?

Me: NOW

Jesse: What’s the rush??

Me: you need to learn the song, asshat

Jesse: Already know it.

Me: we need to rehearse

Jesse: Maybe YOU need to rehearse…

I considered calling him to tell him what an asshat he was more personally, but it felt good to see shit written out in black-and-white. Had a certain impact.

Me: just stop fingering your wife and move your ass

Jesse: OH SHIT. You didn’t.

Jesse: I’m giving you one free pass on that one.

Jesse: But you’ve got a wife now and she is NOT off-limits for that shit.

Fuck me. Didn’t think about that.

No way was I listening to Jesse Fucking Mayes’ asshat comments about me fingering my wife, for the rest of my life.

This shit could not go both ways.

Which meant I was gonna have to be a little more of a gentleman towards Katie and his relationship with her in general.

Okay… a lot more of a gentleman.

Me: noted

Me: please stop making love to your wife and let’s go

Me: better?

Jesse: Marginally. Hard not to be an uberdouche all the time, huh?

Me: thank you for the constructive criticism

Jesse: I’m here to help.

I sent him an emoji of two dudes holding hands.

He sent me back a heart.

And a photo of my wife.

I stared at it, lifting the phone toward my face. Obviously taken at some party, it was a closeup of her face—and her perky tits, in a sparkly top that dipped low. Maggie’s tits weren’t large, but she definitely knew how to work what she had. She was looking at someone off-camera and had a saucy look on her face, and the whole thing was just begging for a caption like: sexy bitch I need to fuck.

I actually dug out my glasses and put them on. Where the shit did he get that photo?

I downloaded it, obviously. Definite keeper.

Then I noticed the slender arm slung around Maggie’s shoulders—and realized Jesse had cropped his wife out of the photo, just to fuck with me.

Asshat.

“Babe?” I called out. “You off the phone?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve gotta run soon,” I told her while I answered Dylan. He’d popped into the chat; had to get him to stop fingering his woman next. “We need to do a little rehearsal at sound check.”

“Rehearsal?”

“Yeah. I’m adding a song into tonight’s set list.”

Maggie came out of the bathroom, putting in her earrings. “You’re changing the set list?”

“Yup.”

“Please tell me you’re keeping the encore the way it is, though. I love the progression of ‘Blackout,’ ‘Road Back Home’ and ‘To Hell & Back’ at the end of the show. It’s perfection.”

I grinned at the compliment. Call me a vain asshole, but I fucking loved it when Maggie complimented me, even indirectly. “Okay, babe. No changes there.”

“What are you changing?” She turned my notebook, which was sitting on a table, toward her, taking a peek.

“Uh, none of your business, Miss Nosy Manager Type.” I gave her a sharp look and went back to my phone.

She rolled her eyes. “So sorry, Mr. Rock Star.”

“And it’s not in there. Just come to the show and you’ll find out with everyone else.”

“Oh, yeah?” She slinked over to me and dropped into my lap, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, pressing her hot little bod up against me and playing with my hair. “No special privileges for the wife of the frontman, huh?”

“Nope.” I slid my hand down around her hip and cupped her ass cheek, giving it a squeeze. “None at all.”

“Huh. Maybe I’ll have to rethink this whole marriage thing, then…” She started to get up, but I yanked her tight against me, tossing my phone aside and using both hands to lock her ass in place.

“How about you stick around, I throw in some perks?”

“I’m listening…”

“Front row seats?”

“I prefer backstage.”

“Backstage pass?”

“Already have one.”

“Party with the band?”

“Pretty sure Brody can get me in.” She smiled prettily. “Or Jesse.”

“Fuck Jesse.” I kissed her, hard. “Personal tour of my bus after the show…?”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips were flushed from my kiss and her eyes were darkening. “How is that a perk?”

“I’ll let you touch my favorite pen.”

“Is that some bad euphemism?”

“It’s the one I write songs with.”

“Hmm.” She considered that for a while, smoothing her thumb over the short hair behind my ear. That slow touch, back and forth, sent shivers right down my spine and straight to my balls. I was getting hard, which was inconvenient, since I had no time to do anything about it. “Okay.”

“Really? That’s all it took? A pen?”

“Well… I’m pretty sure it’s still a euphemism.”

“It is. I don’t actually have a favorite pen.” As if to drive home that point, my rock-hard dick was now jabbing into her ass.

“See?” She wriggled her hips a bit, rubbing herself into me. “Because I’m your wife, I already knew that.”

I gazed at her in honest-to-God wonder. “We’re so made for each other.”

She smiled, eying my glasses. “You know, you’re definitely a bigger dork than the world takes you for.”

“Shh. Don’t tell anyone.” Then I kissed her for real, forcing her mouth open with mine and deep-throating her with my tongue.

“Jesus,” she said, when I let her up for air. “You’ve got the devil’s tongue, Zane Traynor…” I took that as another compliment, since she looked pretty damn flustered about it. Like horny-flustered. Her cheeks were even a little pink. “Can you fuck me with your little glasses on next time? You’ve never done that.”

I laughed. “Really?”

“Yeah. Maybe you can sit by the fire with a book like some hot coed, and I can be the naughty headmistress who slips out of her office, you know, to visit her sexy student in the library after hours…”

“Wow.”

“Or… maybe I’m just on my way back from cheerleading practice? And I notice my hot professor’s light is on, and I think, ‘Maybe he’d like some company…’”

“That’s elaborate, babe.”

“Not really.”

“Is this the shit you think about when we bang?”

She scrunched her eyebrows. “What do you think about when we have sex?”

“You,” I said, kissing her and nibbling at her full bottom lip. “Your pussy. It’s not complicated.”

She laughed her husky laugh, pulling back. “Well, I’ve never had either of those fantasies while we’re doing it, either.” She gazed at me pretty damn adoringly. “But what am I supposed to fantasize about when I’m already having sex with the sexiest man in the world?”

That was pure flattery, but somehow, I knew she meant it, too.

Still, I cocked an eyebrow at her. “You’re having sex with Blake Shelton?”

“What?”

“People magazine, babe. Sexiest Man Alive? I do actually read with these glasses, you know. They’re not just for your slutty coed fantasies.”

She laughed again. “Zane. Baby. Blake Shelton’s got nothing on you. Well… except the official title of Sexiest Man Alive. And Gwen Stefani.”

“I did once have this Gwen Stefani fantasy…”

She silenced me with a finger to my lips. “Don’t even.”

“You have an outfit for this cheerleader thing?”

“We can get one.”

“Hmm. I think I like the horny headmistress thing better. Come to think of it, I was a really, really bad student…”

“Okay, now you’re just getting me hot. Which means,” she said, sliding out of my lap and leaning over me, “I’m going to have to teach you what happens when you act up in my class.” Then she kissed me suggestively, biting my lip for emphasis.

Then she shoved me right down on my back and climbed on top.

“Holy shit,” I muttered, “you got into character fast…”

The grin had faded from her face and the horniness had taken over, and she dove right in. We made out like we hadn’t fucked in weeks, forget that we’d done it twice this morning.

Then some asshole knocked on the door.

“Shiiiit,” I groaned. “That’ll be Shady. I’ve gotta go.”

“Okay.” She smiled down at me.

I groaned again and made a grab for her ass.

Then she slid off me and we both got up. “I’ll see you later,” she said sweetly.

But I didn’t budge. As I stood looking down into Maggie’s gray eyes, I actually found myself wishing I didn’t have a show to do tonight so I could hang out with a woman instead.

Huh. That was new.

I sighed and kissed her, squeezing her round little ass one last time. “You’re gonna be there early, right? Kiss me before I go onstage?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” I let her go and pulled on my leather vest. “See you tonight, Maggie May.” We kissed one last time, getting totally wrapped up in each other’s arms for way too long, then finally peeled ourselves apart again.

She gave me another smile. “Glasses.”

“Oh. Thanks.” I took them off, then waggled my tongue at her as I headed for the door.

“And you better let me touch that pen of yours,” she called after me. “Or I’m gonna spank you with my ruler!”

The door closed behind me and Shady didn’t even pretend not to hear that shit.

“Let’s go,” I said, deadpan.

“Sure, brother.”

But when he’d turned his back, I definitely grinned like some lovesick schoolboy.

* * *

After sound check, the band grabbed some food at a restaurant where we were eventually pretty swarmed by fans. Always happened when too many of us showed up in one place in broad daylight.

We signed some shit, then had to leave out the back door.

As we all piled into the waiting cars, Jesse got in with me and shooed everyone else into the other ones. He even asked Shady to follow in a cab.

“What’s up?” I asked him, as he settled in next to me.

“Just wanted to talk to you.”

“Cool.”

“You know,” he said, “I’ve gotta bust your balls and all that. Because… I don’t know. It’s like, the law of nature between us or something?”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Or something.”

He eyed me sidelong. “But you’ve been doing really good. You know, giving up pot.”

“Thanks.”

“And if Maggie’s gonna put up with you, hey, you’re one lucky son-of-a, right?”

“Yup.” We’d already talked about that, actually. About a week after I’d kicked weed, when maybe he felt certain enough that he wasn’t gonna send me spiraling off a cliff by coming down on me, Jesse had told me exactly what he thought of me marrying Maggie in Vegas and keeping it a secret from him all this time.

And putting Maggie through what I did the night I took off into the desert with Seth.

And all the times he’d seen me at some party with some chick who wasn’t Maggie in the time since I’d married her.

If memory served, he’d dropped the word asshole a few hundred times.

Not sure what else there was to say about it.

“So, uh… what I’m saying is…” he went on, looking anywhere but at my face, “I know you’ve been working hard. Taking care of yourself. Going to meetings and keeping clean and taking shit seriously. We can all feel it, and it definitely shows onstage. To be honest, I never would’ve thought you could get any better than you already were at what you do, but you actually have.”

I stared at him, taking that in, and he finally looked me in the eye. “Thanks, man.”

“You miss it?” he asked me.

“What, the devil’s lettuce?”

He smirked at the term.

“Yeah. Sometimes. The ritual of it. The habit, more than the high, maybe.”

He nodded like he understood, but I was pretty sure he didn’t. Jesse had never had any issues with drugs or booze.

“Clean and sober is good on you, Zane,” he said after a moment. “And when I think about it, I can’t really remember the last time you showed up somewhere with some random chick on your arm. It’s been a long while. And from what I gather from Katie, Maggie wants this. She wants you. So you must be doing something right there. I guess I’m trying to tell you I’m proud of you… and all that stuff.”

Wow. Watching Jesse Mayes squirm his way through a heart-to-heart? Awesome and painful at the same time.

“Thanks, brother. You really don’t have to say all this.”

“Sure I do.”

I put him out of his misery and gave him a damn hug. Which felt pretty awkward in the back of a car. Plus, he was wearing his sexy-ass leather pants, and we were both in short sleeves so there was some definite skin-on-skin. Only saving grace was I knew it was more awkward for him, so I made sure it lasted a little too long.

“You’re shit at this,” I told him. “You know that, right?”

He pushed me away. “Just want you to know I love you and all that shit. Always have.”

“Yeah. Same here.”

“I know I rarely say it. But it doesn’t mean I don’t feel it. You know, half the time I’m pissed at you because I envy you.”

“I know that, brother.” I punched him lightly on the shoulder. Sure, I’d taunted the dude relentlessly over the many years of our friendship, goading him to admit just that. But hearing him say it out loud? I could let him off the hook. Truth was, I’d always envied him, too. “Guess we can both be douchecanoes.”

“Huh?”

“That’s what you called me this morning, right?”

“Uh, that was uberdouche. Can’t really take credit for that one, though. Katie called me that, few days ago, when I looked at her sketchbook without asking.” He rubbed the back of his neck the way he only did when he was anxious. “She hates when I do that shit.”

“So stop doing it.”

“Yeah. She was, uh, pretty mad.”

I stared at him. He actually looked pretty bent out of shape about it. “I didn’t think you guys fought like that.”

“We don’t. I still feel bad about it.”

“So, go tell her you love her and you’ll do anything to fix it.”

He blinked at me, looking halfway stunned. As if I had no clue how to talk to a woman or something.

“What? It’s not hard. You just look in those big blue eyes of hers and admit you made a mistake.”

“Christ. Are you giving me relationship advice now?”

“Yeah. Think I just did.”

Jesse groaned, maybe realizing his love life was in serious danger. He looked out the window as we moved through traffic. After a moment, he said, “They’re blue-green.”

“What?”

“Katie’s eyes. They’re blue-green. They’re kind of like a turquoise color.”

“Uh-huh.”

He looked at me. “You never noticed that?”

“Would you want me to notice that?”

He just shrugged and looked lost.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.”

Right.

“She’s, uh, been kinda moody lately,” he said.

And I actually got a bit worried. Something was definitely off.

“What’s going on between you two?”

“Nothing. She’s gonna kill me for telling you, but… she’s pregnant.”

I stared at him. Maybe I was waiting for the punchline for a moment or two… until it kicked in that he was serious.

And the fucking relief hit me.

“Holy shit. Jesse, man.” I gave him another hug. “Thought you were gonna tell me your marriage was falling apart or some shit. But… shit.”

“Yeah. You can stop hugging me, though.”

“Is this a good thing?” I let him go with a little shove, and a smile crept slowly across his face.

“Yeah. It’s a very good thing. She just doesn’t want to talk about it yet. We just found out yesterday, and she says she wants to get through the first trimester before we tell anyone. She’s only six weeks along and she’s pretty paranoid something’s gonna go wrong because it took us over a year to get her pregnant. I keep telling her that’s not gonna work on tour, that everyone’s gonna find out somehow. You know, close quarters and all that. She already cracked and told Maggie yesterday.”

“Maggie knows?”

“Yeah. She gave Katie a bottle of champagne, and since Katie couldn’t drink it, she totally broke. Girl can’t lie to anyone. She’s gonna keep cracking for sure.” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Anyway, I’m a shit husband. I already broke and told Jude last night, and I’m pretty sure when we get out of this car I’m gonna go blab to Brody.”

I laughed and gave his shoulder another shove. “Shit, brother. Everyone’s gonna know by the end of the night. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. Probably. Just don’t tell anyone, okay? I’m hoping Katie will just keep caving so it’s not all my fault. She’s been emotional lately and I don’t want it raining down on me. I’m still hoping to get laid sometime before this baby comes…”

I shook my head. Normally, I might’ve loved to hear about Jesse Mayes’ problems getting laid, but I was pretty fucking sure he was kidding about that. “Jesus. It’s raining babies…” First Brody and Jessa, then Seth and Elle… and now Jesse and Katie? “Some crazy shit in the water around here, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, kinda smirking at me. “Think it’s called love.”

* * *

That night at the Detroit show, I was beyond stoked. By the time we were about to play our final pre-encore song of the night, the crowd was all hyped up and my spirits were through the fucking roof. As soon as we finished “Come Lately,” I told the audience, “We’re gonna wrap up here with a special song tonight, for a special woman.”

Then I gave Jude the cue; he was standing at the back corner of the stage where I could just see him.

“We’re gonna play a song right now by this little band called The Beatles, who influenced me in a big way when I was young and pretty sure I’d never end up in a place like this, singing for all you beautiful people.”

The crowd roared their approval, and I looked out over the audience, where what looked like a million cell phones were lit up in the dark.

“Some of you may have read some shit online or wherever that I got married two years ago in Vegas.” The crowd answered with a mixture of screams and cheers and boos. “And it’s true. I married this incredible woman.” More screams. “This is gonna embarrass the shit out of her. But too bad, right?” I turned toward the back of the stage. “Come on out here, Maggie.”

She was standing in the shadows at the edge of the stage, Jude standing behind her so she couldn’t bolt. He’d managed to get her out here, even though she was shaking her head at me.

At least she looked too embarrassed and petrified to be mad at me right now.

Katie and Amber were right there with her, flanking her, which wasn’t my idea, but it was a good one. Katie took Maggie’s hand and pretty much dragged her out onstage, Amber following, clinging to Maggie’s other hand and looking about as uncomfortable as Maggie did.

I waved them over to me, center-stage, as a couple of crew guys ran out with folding chairs, setting them up in a row for the girls. The three of them held hands while the crowd roared. Katie was grinning, Amber was wearing the hint of a nervous smile, and Maggie had her fist to her mouth.

“You ready for this, babe?” I asked into the mic, and Maggie just shook her head once… No.

Katie giggled and put an arm around her. There was a sparkle of tears in Amber’s eyes, but she gave me a little nod of approval as she gripped Maggie’s hand.

“Take a seat,” I told them. The crew had disappeared and the girls sat down, Maggie in the middle.

I walked around behind them so they couldn’t hide behind me, and I stood behind Maggie. I lifted my hand high over her head and pointed down at her. “This is my lovely wife, Maggie.”

My wife was definitely covering part of her face with her fist, and Katie laughed as the crowd screamed and applauded.

I pointed down at Katie next. “If you don’t know who this is, you’ve been living under a rock or something. This is Katie Mayes.”

Katie gave a little wave and Jesse played a hot little riff on his guitar that made Katie laugh again.

“And this,” I said, pointing at Amber, “is Dirty’s tour photographer, and girlfriend of this guy named Dylan Cope.” Dylan did a little drum roll and a couple of cymbal crashes.

The crowd thundered their excitement, people clapping and whistling for the girls as anticipation of the final song built.

I walked around beside the girls, so Maggie could see me, and said, “This one’s for you, Maggie May.”

I glanced over at Jesse, who grinned at me. Seth and Matt and Dylan were all in position, waiting.

Then I belted out, “OOOH! DARLING…!” and the band launched into our cover of The Beatles’ “Oh! Darling.”

Katie and Amber applauded as I serenaded Maggie, smiling all the way. Maggie just sat there with her fist pressed to her mouth for pretty much the whole song, her gray eyes glistening.

Seth and Jesse came over and stood on either side of the girls as they played. Through the whole song, I sang my ass off for Maggie with heart, soul, and tongue-in-cheek, and I put everything I felt for her into it.

We were in a stadium with over forty thousand people… but for a few moments there… it was just us.

Maggie.

Me.

I sang until Katie was crying though her smile and a tear streaked down Amber’s cheek. They both had an arm around Maggie, who just sat there looking stunned.

At the end of it, the roar of the crowd was pretty much deafening. Katie flung herself into Jesse’s arms and Amber bolted in the direction of Dylan’s drum kit.

Maggie got up a little slower, looking unsteady. I scooped her up into my arms as the stage lights went down.

“You mad at me?” I said into her ear. I knew it was a risk, that she might be. We didn’t talk about this. We never agreed this was the way we were going public.

But fuck it. This was a huge part of who I was, and she was just gonna have to get used to it.

Maggie made plans, and I loved her for that.

But sometimes… I just had to go rogue.

Not like she didn’t know it when she married me.

She snuggled into me, holding me tight. “No, Zane,” she said in my ear. “I’m not mad.”

Well thank fuck…

We headed offstage and I pulled her into a dark corner backstage, ignoring everyone else. She was still clinging to me. I slid my mouth over hers, and we just stood like this for a long time. We kissed and kissed, murmuring I love you back and forth, until I had to go back out onstage.

“I gotta go kick ass on ‘Blackout,’” I told her. “But I’ll see you here after the encore.”

“Yeah,” she said. “See you here.”

Then we kissed again, and I let her go, heading back out to the stage. When I glanced back, Maggie was still there. She gave me a little wave and a look of raw wonder with tears in her eyes.

Pretty sure it was the first time my “rock star” status had ever actually dazzled her.

I just grinned to myself.

It was also the first time I could remember ever walking out onstage feeling so damn happy… I didn’t even have any room left to feel self-doubt or any of that other mindfuckery.

Just happy.