My parents and I arrived in L.A. two days before the awards show. I thought about calling Ash, of course I did. Especially since I’d found out that my crazy roommates had destroyed a letter he’d written me many months ago.

I didn’t know what was in the letter, but a letter wasn’t usually what you sent when you didn’t care at all about someone. After a break up, if you were psyched about it, you tended to let communication die down. You might get back in touch if your ex had something of yours, a favorite shirt or a bag you’d left behind. But that you’d take care of with an awkward text, not a long letter.

I didn’t have any of Ash’s stuff, and I figured if he’d somehow misplaced something he cared about but didn’t care about me, he had many minions to do his bidding. He could task any number of handlers to do his dirty work. No, I didn’t think he was missing his favorite pair of headphones or socks. He’d had something he wanted to say to me in that letter. Unfinished business.

And then there was, of course, the song. The song of love and heartbreak and longing. In the airport, my parents and I had stopped to buy coffees. Not sandwiches, mind you, my mother insisted on packing those from home instead of—as she put it—paying through the nose for that sawdust and cardboard. While we were placing our orders, Ash’s voice came out from a speaker behind the cashier.

“That’s your song, Anya,” my mother murmured.

“That’s the song my daughter wrote.” My father lacked her subtly, announcing my accomplishment to the cashier. He proudly told anyone and everyone who’d listen about my song, bulldozing right through people’s confusion (I thought that was Ash Black?) and my protests (Dad, not everyone needs to know). I had to admit, after a lifetime of trying to live up to their high expectations, it did feel good to have done something that made them so proud. Even if they didn’t really seem to fully understand what was happening.

“Our baby, a big time record producer in L.A.,” they’d sigh. I’d protest that that wasn’t what had happened, but they’d shush me with a, “we know what you’ve done.” It was pointless to argue.

On the night of the awards ceremony, they accompanied me down to where the show would be held and televised, but they steadfastly refused to head into the pre-party or have anything to do with the red carpet arrivals. I didn’t think I’d be walking the red carpet, either. I was just a songwriter. And a part of me really wanted to go hide in the back row seating with them.

But another part of me? That part of me said I was there for a reason. I wasn’t just Ash Black’s pretend sham of a girlfriend. I was a musician and a songwriter, and my song was receiving a hell of a lot of recognition that night. I also had an assigned seat, right up close to the stage. Front and center.

I gave them a kiss good-bye, took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. I knew Ash would probably be at the pre-party. The number and size of the bouncers guarding the door and demanding to see invitations attested to the VIP nature of the event. And Ash was the most VIP of VIPs.

With more strut than I truly felt, I walked into the party. I had no idea what would happen that night, but it felt good to be there on my own terms, for an honest reason. And who knew? I might get a moment to talk with Ash, find out what had been in that letter. My curiosity could have killed a room full of cats.

For a moment, I thought I saw him across the room, dressed all in black and dripping with models. But that turned out to be John Mayer. I looked away quickly, tucking my hair behind my ear, hoping he hadn’t seen me checking him out.

Then I found Ash. He stood facing away and talking to another guy. There were a few women with their eyes on him, but that described every waking moment of his life. No one hung from his arm.

Then he looked up and right over at me. My breath caught in my throat. He was so impossibly handsome, clean-shaven in a white jacket. He still had that somewhat rumpled look, the casual sexiness that made him world-famous, but he looked older, somehow. Less posturing, more rugged. Impossible to resist. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to come after all.

I thought about ducking away, but I didn’t. He drew me like metal to a magnet. I’m just glad I didn’t trip on anything as I made my way over to him in the room. I certainly wasn’t aware of my surroundings. He mesmerized me.

I think he said my name. I might have managed to say his. We may have said hello, but maybe not. People talked around us, to us, but I couldn’t have told you a damn thing any of them said. I could tell you the color of Ash’s eyes, such a warm, deep brown they looked like melted dark chocolate. Then he held out his hand. I took it in mine.

Ash. God, I’d missed him. The grasp of his warm, calloused hand, the warmth of his body, the feel of his tall, solid presence by my side. We didn’t have privacy, none at all, so we couldn’t exactly talk. But there with him, I wondered if we needed to. Standing with him, holding hands, that’s where I belonged. I could feel it with such certainty. You didn’t need to talk about the sky looking blue on a sunny day. It just was and everyone knew it.

With camera flashes and hustling and bustling, we were ushered away and out onto the red carpet to make our official entrance. I was not red carpet ready. No stylists had groomed me, no makeup artists had had their way with me, but Ash wrapped his arm around my waist, hugged me to him, and it didn’t so much matter.

He led me down to a seat next to his. I didn’t know if that was the one I’d been assigned to, but I figured no one would argue with Ash. What he got he wanted. He was nominated more than any other artist that night. He kept my hand wrapped in his, tight, as we sat down.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He spoke in hushed tones, almost reverent, and leaned into me.

“I can’t believe it, either,” I admitted.

“Did you think about not coming?”

“A little.” I paused. It wasn’t the right time to have a serious conversation, not when we were surrounded by every famous singer I could think of and then a whole bunch more I didn’t recognize but could tell I would if I paid more attention to celebrities. But I couldn’t wait for exactly the right moment. It might never come.

Leaning in closer, I whispered, “Ash, I never got your letter. Back in January.”

“You never got it?” he asked, confused.

I shook my head no. “I never knew you sent it. My roommates just told me a couple days ago that they burned it.”

“Burned it?” He pulled back, looking at me as if to check if he’d heard correctly.

“I know. It’s crazy.”

“They burned it,” he repeated, clearly having trouble comprehending. I still didn’t fully understand it, either, but that wasn’t the point. The point was what had been in it?

“So, I don’t know what you said in it.” I looked at him with probably too much eagerness showing in my face. How awkward would it be if he told me that the letter was about the fact that I still had his favorite pair of socks? And knowing my luck, a cameraman would probably swing his huge lens around and zoom in right when my eyes filled with tears. But I had to take the chance, right then in the front row of a live broadcast awards show. I didn’t know when or if I’d have the chance again.

“You know what I said in it. You’ve heard the song.” He looked down at me, his eyes so warm on mine, his body leaning in so close I could feel his breath on my neck as he whispered my name.

“Ana, I love you.” He caressed my cheek, swept his fingers under my chin. I swayed into his touch. It felt so good, after all those months, exactly what I’d been craving every day and every night.

Clicks and flashes rose from all around us, capturing us, capturing celebrities. We couldn’t be in a more exposed setting. But I didn’t feel it. It felt like just me and Ash, finally. Alone together in the middle of all the craziness.

“I’m no good without you, Anika,” he murmured in my ear, his hand weaving its way into my hair. “Without you, I come undone.”

I was glad, then, that I hadn’t had a stylist preparing me for my appearance that night. It was much better this way, with my hair loose and natural. Then Ash could weave his fingers through my hair, touch me, caress me, and I leaned into his hand, my eyes fluttering closed.

Then applause rose from all around us, snapping even the two of us from our world together, as the show began. Huge name after even huger name walked across the stage, some looking great in person, others one Botox shot shy of becoming a plastic doll.

Then came the first category Ash was nominated for, and he won. Then the next, which he won as well. By the fourth time he won, he tugged my hand.

“Come on.” He grinned at me.

“No! I—” But he pulled and I followed and before I knew it, we were both up on stage accepting the award for Top 100 Song.

“She’s the reason for this!” Ash declared, holding up the award with one hand, clasping my hand in his other. “She’s my inspiration. She’s the genius behind the song.” Looking at me, he added. “This is for you. Thank you, Ana.”

I couldn’t manage a word. My eyes filled with tears and I think I was able to smile and wave a bit at the massive attack of applause. If I’d had my wits about me, I suppose I could have grabbed the mic and thanked my parents. That would have been nice. But as it was, I could barely manage to stand upright. I’d have to thank them later.

The rest of the show passed in a blur. Ash won a couple more times, giddy with winning, starting to get random in his thank-yous, going on a tangent about his younger brother and how much he loved him. I felt so proud, so happy to see him getting such praise for such a risky departure. That song had been nothing like what he’d done in the past, open and raw and real. A fresh start for him. Maybe for us?

Somehow, I found my parents after the show. Ash and I never stopped holding hands, which made it more difficult. To say he was mobbed would be a massive understatement. Everyone wanted a piece of him, a picture, a glimpse at the star of the evening. But he insisted on sharing it all with me. And then he pulled my mom and dad in for a few photos.

“Oh, my!” My mother patted her hair and pulled herself up to her full five foot two inches. My father smiled as wide and proud as I’d ever seen him. I even caught him wiping a tear from his eye.

“I’m sorry I didn’t thank you when I was up on stage,” I managed to say before I started crying a little, too.

“Och, don’t be silly.” My father brushed away my apology.

“All those piano lessons you drove me to.” My voice broke and my mother caught me up in a big hug.

“I’d drive you to a thousand more,” she assured me, giving me a plump kiss on my cheek. “Now stop making me cry. And go have a nice time with this big rock star of yours.”

“You don’t want to come to the after party?” I asked.

“You’re more than welcome,” Ash assured them. “Anyone you want to meet?” he asked my mom. “I’d be happy to introduce you.”

“I’ve got what I want right here.” My mother tucked her arm into my father’s and they stood together, looking as proud and puffed as peacocks as they gazed at me adoringly.

“Your mother and I are going to go have some real Russian vodka back in that fancy-schmancy hotel room you booked us in. We’re going to go toast to both of your success. Now go! Go!”

They shooed us away and away we went, heading into a party so mobbed we honestly weren’t able to move a foot. We didn’t make the rounds so much as people made the rounds to us, congratulating us, wishing us well, telling us how excited they were for us. Everyone was so nice and kind and lovely and all I could think was how much I wanted to be alone with Ash.

“I can’t wait to get you alone,” he leaned down and murmured into my ear.

“I keep thinking the same thing,” I admitted.

At that moment, Taylor Swift walked into the room. In the rush of attention, we saw our opening and took it. We ducked out a side door, giggling like high school kids cutting class. We couldn’t make it up to the hotel room fast enough. Ash was staying at the MGM as well, of course in one of the top floor mega suites. We had to share the elevator ride with a couple of other people who tried unsuccessfully not to stare at Ash. I understood their difficulty. I couldn’t stop gazing at him, myself. Especially since just the touch of his hand lit me up inside, his fingers stroking that sensitive spot between my index finger and thumb. I’d been craving his touch for so long, I didn’t think I’d make it until the top floor.

Finally, the doors dinged open and finally we were able to tumble down the hall and make it into his room.

“Ana,” he exhaled into me, pulling at the straps on my dress. “Missed you so much.”

“Hated it.” I wasn’t sure he even understood what I meant, that I’d hated all of our time apart, every second of it. But I didn’t need to rely on words when I could reach up and tear his jacket right off of him.

“Need—” He unzipped the back of my dress and pulled it down off of me, one hand reaching out to cup and squeeze my breast through my bra. “Can’t—” He kissed me, ending my attempt to try to answer him, which wouldn’t have been successful anyway.

I groaned in response, kissing him back with all the pent-up longing and passion and need that had welled up in me for months. His shirt, my bra, his pants, my panties, all of it came off quick and he backed me up against the nearest wall.

“Need now,” he groaned, sucking hard on my erect nipple. His thigh parting my legs, he sank a finger into my dripping wet sex, hissing to discover me so ready for him.

“Ash,” I sighed, sinking my fingernails into his powerful shoulders. I wanted to mark him, make him mine so we’d never have to be apart ever again.

“Never letting go,” he managed as he ripped off his boxer briefs and positioned his thick, erect shaft at my entrance. “Are you ready?” He sank his mouth down onto my throat, claiming, biting, sucking. A harsh cry of need escaped from my parted lips.

When he thrust up into me in one long, commanding stroke, I nearly passed out it felt so good. I screamed and clawed at him. He pinned me against the wall, hammering into me.

“Mine,” he called out, his gaze fixed on where our bodies met, where his glistening, hard cock pushed into my slick pussy again and again. I was so wet for him, so aroused, with the sound of us smacking together, his balls against me, I got so close so fast.

“Come for me, Ana,” he ordered, grabbing hold of my breasts in his large, rough hands. “Come hard, baby.”

Screaming, eyes rolled back into my head, I did as I was told. I wanted him to keep fucking me just like that, never stop. I needed him to fuck me like he owned me, like he’d never let me go. I couldn’t take being apart for him, not for another minute, and as soon as I could I wrapped my hands around his ass and pushed him in even deeper.

“Yes, like that!” I cried out as he buried himself in me to the hilt. I could feel his huge, thick cock spreading me, bumping up against my cervix. His precome mingled with my juices and I could feel him tense, his breathing ragged and urgent. I whined with need, knowing he’d come soon, needing to feel him unload in me. I wanted it so badly, that moment of release when he’d thrust and call out and give me all of his come.

“Ana!” he roared as he sank deep inside me, coaxing another orgasm out of me as I quivered and screamed and clutched him to me. Breathing hard, we stayed joined together, our heads sunk into each other.

“Never letting go,” he repeated, his hands cupped under my ass, keeping us firmly linked even as I sank down off the wall, spent. He walked us over to the couch, holding me as if I weighed nothing, then sat with me straddling his lap.

Kissing me reverently, he adored my throat, my lips, my jaw. “I missed you so much. I’m so sorry about whatever I said up in that cabin to Connor. I didn’t mean it. I love you. I love you so much.”

Tears spilled from my eyes at his words. The words I’d heard in that song, the words I now knew he’d written to me as long ago as January. Words that echoed the same sentiment in my heart.

“I love you, Ash. I love you.” The words tumbled from my mouth as we kissed and professed our love over and over, each of us reveling in the newfound ability to say it directly to each other. No holding back, no intercepted letters, no songs pumping through the airwaves that may or may not have been authentic lyrics. Just our whispers for each other as we sealed our love in kisses.

Slowly, he began thrusting up inside of me again. Signing, I eased fully back down along his shaft, wondering at the feel of him, the way he grew hard again so quickly, the way he filled me. I couldn’t wait to take him in my mouth again, to lick all of him down, sucking and loving him.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He brought his hands to my waist, easing me up and down, working me along his length. With his thumbs, he grazed the swell of my breasts, the tips of my nipples. I arched my back, giving myself to him, getting just the right angle as I straddled him.

“I could watch you on top of me for hours,” he murmured, sounding transfixed. His eyes looked glazed over with pure lust as I met his gaze. Feeling like a sex goddess, I rolled my hips over his, easing myself down on his huge cock. He closed his eyes and groaned.

“That’s so good, baby.”

“You like that, Ash?” I asked, bringing myself up, then down again full, surrounding him entirely in my wet heat.

“It’s too good. I’ve waited too long.” Grabbing me around the waist he pulled us both up and off the couch, then flipped me around and shoved me over the back of it, rough and demanding. “I have to take you,” he growled, giving my quivering ass a hard slap.

“Uh! Ash!” In my core I felt a wet rush of heat in response to his touch, the rough feel of his smack against my soft cheeks. And then he claimed me again, from behind, taking me full and hard the way he liked it. The way I needed it.

“Hold on, baby,” he warned me. I dug my fingers into the couch, getting a good grip and he dug his fingers into my hips so hard I knew he’d leave a bruise. But I wanted his mark on me, I wanted him to take me so hard, so deep, and that’s just what he did, thundering into me, fucking me relentlessly, so demanding I knew he felt exactly the same way.

He shot his hot come deep in me and I came, shuddering around his shaft, milking every last drop. He gathered me in his arms and we sank down onto the couch again, him cradling me on his lap. We breathed each other in, basking in each other’s nearness.

“I’m never letting anything come between us ever again,” he promised me. “You’re mine, Ana.”

“And you’re mine, Ash.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him full on his lips. “You belong to me.”

“I do.” He nodded. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t know where I would be now if it wasn’t for you.”

“I’m so grateful to all the horrible men chasing you with cameras that day you came into the library.”

“Never been more grateful for those assholes.” He grinned, kissing me again. “There’s a lot I don’t know, Ana. I don’t know what I’m doing next. Or where—”

“Shh, don’t worry so much.” I kissed his forehead, laughing at myself as I said it. I was usually a classic worrier and planner, liking to have everything mapped out just so. But if I’d learned anything over the last few months, it was that there was a limit to what you could plan. You could devote a lot of time to figuring out every last detail, but then something could happen to blow it all out of the water. It was far better to live in the moment, especially when that moment involved Ash Black naked and holding you in his arms.

He smiled at me and stroked my back, kissing my ear. “You think it’s all going to work out, Anika Ivanov?”

“Yes, I do,” I assured him. And somehow in my heart I knew I was right.