Jazz tapped her short fuchsia nails on her table at Silas’s Tavern and debated whether or not her touchy stomach could deal with iced tea. Apparently she’d stopped getting panic attacks in the face of stress and had moved right on to bouts of nausea.

After the night Gray had been hurt, she’d mostly been okay, not counting her horrifying replays of the way he’d looked when he lurched into the cabin. Then there was what he’d said, though she couldn’t think about that part too much and stay sane. Even considering that Gray had turned to coke because of her hurt so much. But she couldn’t go back and change things, no matter how much she wished she could.

She glanced around the dimly lit restaurant and pushed aside her menu. All she could do was this.

Leaning back against the booth, she stifled a yawn. Exhaustion dogged her constantly, but that made sense since she was barely sleeping. A likely side effect of her injured fiancé being in the hospital, she suspected.

A fiancé she hadn’t spoken to for almost a week.

He’d been sprung last night and Nick—Nick, of all people—had picked him up and brought him back to the apartment. Like a coward, she’d cuddled her new kittens in her bedroom while listening to them laughing through the wall. True, they hadn’t been yukking it up, just sharing the occasional chuckle, but still. When had the earth tilted off its axis?

It wasn’t that she didn’t want them to be friends. She did, absolutely. She wanted all of the crap of the past year to disappear entirely, including the awkwardness between the three of them. She just hadn’t expected the two of them to become buddies while she tried to figure out how to even speak to Gray.

He hadn’t made much effort on that score either. He’d called her from the hospital to thank her for the balloons and for sitting vigil. And he’d apologized for his “harsh words”, of course, because his gentlemanly ways never disappeared for long. But the easy banter and enduring closeness that had always existed between them had disappeared, and she didn’t have the first clue how to get it back.

She hoped this was a good first step.

Bypassing the iced tea she doubted she could swallow, she opened her purse and checked the contents of the bank envelope inside. She was taking a risk doing this, in every sense of the word. Growing up essentially on her own had made her excessively frugal, not counting her dependence on hair dye—usually store bought with coupons—and her thrift shop wardrobe. Today she’d practically emptied her savings account, and she’d also incurred a future debt to the absolute last people she wanted to owe money to.

The Duffys.

Bumping into them at the hospital had been about as difficult as she’d expected. She hadn’t been surprised to see them, considering she’d called them in the first place. Telling them that Gray had a drug problem and had gotten hurt had been tough, mostly because she hated the feeling that she was betraying Gray. But his parents needed to know, and he needed them back in his life.

What he thought about her for making that decision for him didn’t much matter. She’d opened the door for them to walk through again. If Gray chose to back right out, there was nothing more she could do.

In the meantime, she was going to order an iced tea, count her big stack of bills and try to look badass while she waited for her lunch companion to join her.

Ten minutes later, her dining guest finally appeared.

The blonde strutted up to the table, every inch of her from head to toe well-coiffed and perfectly presented. She wore an expensively cut business suit, one that highlighted her many curves and also gave her an air of professionalism. If Jazz hadn’t known better, she might’ve actually believed the woman across from her was a lawyer or doctor or someone else important.

“Jasmine,” she said, slipping into the opposite side of the booth. “I apologize for my tardiness.”

“Cricket,” Jazz replied, just as agreeably. “Don’t worry about it. We’re not friends, so manners aren’t expected or necessary.”

The waitress picked that moment to reappear and Jazz ordered her beverage. Cricket ordered a salad and diet soda while smiling and laughing with the woman serving them as if she couldn’t be having more fun.

The moment the waitress left, Cricket leaned back in the booth and crossed her arms. “Out with your little proposition. My time is valuable and right now you’re wasting it.”

“You’re the one who ordered lunch like we were old pals.”

The corner of Cricket’s mouth lifted. “I enjoy their salads here. I’m surprised you didn’t get something too.”

“I’m on a diet.” She wasn’t, but there was no damn way she’d ever eat with this woman.

“Oh.” Cricket gave her a quick onceover. “Well, good luck. I always believe in being proactive and not letting a situation get too far out of hand before I deal with it.”

Jazz set her teeth. “How much does Gray owe you?”

“Gray. Hmm. That name does sound familiar.” She placed a hand over her heart as she pretended to think it through. “Oh yes, I do remember him. He has a lot of…energy, doesn’t he? I imagine you know that intimately.”

“More intimately than you do, since you never slept with him.”

“Is that what he told you?” Cricket smiled and thanked the waitress as she set their drinks down. She waited to continue until the waitress had moved away. “I’m glad to hear that you’re so trusting. It’s sweet, really.”

“Cut the bullshit. If you know anything about his cock, it’s because you played stalker and cut pictures out of a magazine. Don’t bother trying to goad me.”

“Hardly. I had my hand on it. That, darling, is sterling truth.”

Which Jazz well knew, because she’d seen Cricket groping him on New Year’s Eve.

Jazz pulled the wrapper off her straw and stabbed it into her iced tea, splashing some on the table. “Is that why you had your goons rough him up? Because you didn’t get to do more than touch?”

“Goons. What an adorable word.” Cricket laughed and unwrapped her own straw before sliding it into her soda much more delicately than Jazz. “What makes you think I have any idea what you’re talking about?”

“I want to pay you what he owes. All of it, right now.”

Interest fired in Cricket’s dark eyes. “I’m curious. How did you get my number?”

“Off his phone, while he was in the hospital. He’s out now. Your thugs didn’t manage to kill him.”

“If I wanted someone dead, you can rest assured they would be.”

“Right, because you’re so fucking dangerous in your expensive suits you buy with the money you make from other people’s misery.” Jazz sipped her tea to keep from throwing the contents on Cricket’s seductively tousled hair.

“On the contrary. I make people happy. Why, you should’ve seen how happy I made Gray. Happier than I bet you’ve ever made him.” Cricket smiled. “Though I’m sure you’ve tried.”

Jazz set down her glass and counted off the beats to “Ripcord” in her mind in a vain attempt to stave off her fury. She hadn’t come there to get into a bitch contest with Cricket. Whatever the other woman had done or hadn’t done with Gray was the past. All she cared about right now was the future.

“How much does he owe you? I want the entire figure.”

“Some big man he is, sending his girlfriend to pay off his debt.”

“He didn’t send me. He hasn’t even told me he still owes you anything. I just assumed.” Especially when Jazz thought about the ring he’d bought her just before he got hurt. She’d added up a lot of things and perhaps she’d reached the wrong total, but she figured she couldn’t be too far off. If Gray had paid in full, Cricket’s thugs probably wouldn’t have messed with a lucrative cash cow.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll walk away and you’ll never get your money.”

“Right. I’ll just forgive the debt your boyfriend incurred because you told me to. Little drummer girl, trying to act all tough.”

“You think I’m acting?” Jazz asked in a low voice. “I’m a product of the state of California’s foster care system. I had men feeling me up before my breasts had fully developed. I’ve been on my own since sixteen. You don’t scare me, and I don’t give a shit if I scare you. I just want to pay you what Gray owes and pretend I never saw your motherfucking face.”

Cricket fell silent as the waitress returned with her salad. She unrolled her silverware and set her napkin in her lap, as dainty as could be. Then she just looked at Jazz. “I was in foster care too.”

“I don’t care.” She didn’t. She absolutely would not allow herself to feel any empathy for this woman, not even for a second.

Cricket shrugged and speared a cherry tomato. “I’m not asking you to. I’m just saying it sounds like we come from the same place.”

“No, we do not. Want to know how I know? Because I never would’ve stooped to selling to people who aren’t strong enough to say no. I never would’ve bought my fancy clothes from blood money.”

“No, you sit back and let the men in your band protect you. Sweet little Jasmine that all the boys want.” Cricket scraped her fork over her plate. “I make no apologies for what I do. I provide a service to adults. If those adults can’t control their fucking impulses, why is that my problem?”

“Because you’re a human being and have a heart?”

“Maybe you still do, and if so, I pity you even more. Mine withered up years ago, and I can guarantee you that of the two of us, I’m suffering a lot less.” She set down her fork and pulled her phone out of her purse. She tapped a few keys and glanced up, her face blank. “You asked me how much he still owes.”

“Yes.” Jazz tucked her now trembling hands between her thighs. “Tell me.”

Cricket named a figure that caused Jazz’s pulse to skip a dozen beats. She huffed out a breath and inhaled another. No big deal. She had enough to cover it. She’d planned ahead, and she was prepared.

“You look like you’re about to hyperventilate, drummer girl.” Cricket slipped her cell back into her purse. “Your boyfriend has a healthy appetite. His tab added up fast.”

She wasn’t going to think about exactly how much coke that money had bought. If she did, she’d probably get nauseous again, which wouldn’t help her case for indifference. “That includes everything, right? Fees and interest and—”

“I don’t pay taxes, so yes, that includes everything right up to this minute.” Cricket smirked. “But the clock is running.”

“Okay.” Jazz withdrew the bank envelope from her purse. “I have about half of it here—”

Cricket sighed. “Same tune, different singer.”

“Shut up. I have the rest, but it’s in the bank.” And it would tap her out completely. “I’ll write you a check.”

Cricket laughed. “Darling, mine’s not the kind of business that accepts checks. We’re strictly a cash-and-carry type of operation.”

“Do you want your money or not?” Jazz pushed her iced tea out of the way. “I guarantee you I’m good for it.”

“If only you had any idea how many guarantees I hear like that on a daily basis.” Cricket went back to her salad. “Fine. Give me the cash you have in hand and write me a check for the rest.”

“I want it in writing that this satisfies the debt.”

Cricket choked and reached for her soda. She took a long sip then shook her head. “You did say you were raised in foster care, right? Not with The Waltons on the farm? First you want to write me a check, now you want a signed note from the teacher. What’s next, a handshake to show good faith?”

“You don’t have any faith left, good or otherwise. As for the note, humor me.”

Yes, it was stupid. She fully acknowledged it. But some part of her refused to see this as anything but a simple business transaction. When she paid a bill, she got a notice that it was paid. Simplistic, maybe, but she needed to follow the steps.

“You know, I like you. I have no reason to. Your contempt toward me is rather overpowering. But maybe it’s our shared experiences.” One side of Cricket’s mouth curved. “And interest in men.”

“You don’t have an interest in him. You wanted to swallow him whole.”

“Can’t argue with that. He is one gorgeous package. And he has one, as well.” Cricket held out her hand, her sly smile fading. “Now pay up.”

Jazz handed her the envelope and wrote her a check for the rest. By then her stomach was threatening revolt, so she accepted the scrawled payment note Cricket gave her in return and stood to leave.

“It was nice doing business with you,” Cricket said, returning to her half eaten salad.

Jazz started to turn away before some unknown impulse caused her to turn back. “Do you ever think about getting a real job? Something legit?”

Cricket didn’t look up. “Something legit like banging on the drums in a rock band?”

“At least they won’t be hauling me off to jail for it.”

“I could walk away tomorrow and be set for years. Can you say the same?”

“I don’t want to walk away,” Jazz said, forcing out the words through her way too tight throat.

“One difference among many between you and me.” Cricket saluted her with her fork. “Cheers.”

Jazz drove back to the apartment with Cricket’s words running through her head. For so long, she’d wanted nothing more than freedom. The ability to be able to pick up and go without any nagging foster parents or the system trying to tag her whereabouts. Eventually she’d admitted the reason she wanted freedom so much was because she truly didn’t have a place to belong, so landing anywhere for long felt like the worst kind of lie. People like her were meant to go where the wind blew and the music carried them.

She’d once imagined becoming a traveling minstrel, strumming a guitar for pennies that people tossed in her case. Back then she’d been sure she could live on that kind of appreciation, hollow or not. In time, she might learn to stop needing so much, though her wants seemed simple enough. Love. Affection. A family.

Gray.

Without conscious decision, she headed straight to his room once she arrived back at the apartment. The door stood open and music played on the sound system on low, serving as a backdrop for him to strum along with. Not Oblivion. He’d chosen one of his favorite classic songs, “Wasted Time” by the Eagles. Listening to him sing along in his husky, haunting voice made her fumble for the guitar pick necklace she never took off. Touching it forged one more link with him in spite of the hesitation that bolted her feet to the floor.

She wasn’t ready to have this conversation with him. Would never be ready. But it couldn’t wait.

Once the song ended, she stepped into the doorway and tightened her grip on the chain. He sat on the bed, holding his guitar in his lap. His fingers ghosted over the strings, playing a silent melody she could hear though it had no sound.

She bit her lip, aching for him. For herself.

“You can come in.” He lifted his head and gave her a smile tinged with a sorrow she understood all too well. “This was supposed to be your room now too.”

She abandoned her hold on her necklace to start fiddling with her ring. “I wasn’t sure that offer still stood.”

His lack of response created a chain-effect reaction in her body. Her skin prickled hot and a wave of dizziness rolled through her. But her unsettled stomach didn’t so much as pitch.

Too bad she couldn’t feel any relief through her dread.

“Come in and shut the door, okay?” He shifted to set aside his guitar, allowing her to see the suitcase tucked between the nightstand and the bed. The packed suitcase.

“That’s from the cabin, right?” Her breath quickened. “You just haven’t unpacked—”

“Come in.” He gestured with his fingers for her to keep moving forward and she stopped, unwilling to make this easy on him. If he was going to break her heart, he’d have to travel the last few feet between them to do it.

Even if she suspected all he’d have to do was look, really look, at her to make her lose her last grasp on her composure.

“No. I’m fine here.” She held her ground just inside the doorway. “W-where are you going?”

“Jazz—”

No baby this time. No sexy smile or hungry expression to let her know that he was undressing her in his mind even while he was talking about something banal. His eyes were guarded, his mouth set in a line.

“Just say your piece. Don’t sugarcoat it.” She clamped her arms over her chest and prayed for the strength to get through this. To not fall to her knees and beg him not to turn her away when they’d finally gotten so close to having everything.

It was all about timing, she’d told him once. Without it, it was impossible to keep the beat going. And theirs was always fucking wrong.

“Please, come sit next to me. Don’t make this harder than it is already.”

“Why not? Why shouldn’t it be the hardest thing we’ve ever gone through? If I’d wanted easy, I would’ve stayed with Nick.” His face closed off even more, but she couldn’t regret her thoughtless mention. Not when he was about to trash their past and their future.

“It should be easy,” he said, his voice barely audible. “That’s what I always wanted for you. You deserve a man who can take care of you and treat you right. Who will never lie to you or hurt you or put you in danger for even a second. That’s not me.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of. I don’t need it. Newsflash, Grayson Duffy, I’ve been on my own for a very long time. If I let you share my life, it’s because I wanted you there, not because I couldn’t get by without you.” She wasn’t sure of that—not at all—but she was damn fed up with people acting as if she should hide out in an ivory tower all day. “Wanna know who I had lunch with? You might know her. She’s tall and blonde and claims to have handled your penis.”

Recognition dawned in his eyes and he jerked to his feet. “Why would you have lunch with Cricket? Or go anywhere near her?”

“Maybe I wanted a hit.” She walked forward and slammed her hands on his chest, pushing him backward into the frame of the bed. “Ever think of that? Maybe I thought I should try it too,” she said, pushing him again.

Too late she remembered his injuries. Fury burned in her, almost squelching out the fear. Beneath both simmered more love than she had any clue what to do with.

He didn’t move, but the wildness in his eyes revealed the extent of his anguish. “No.”

“Yes. I want to know what made you go that far. I want to feel that high that’s worth throwing everything else away.”

“I didn’t have anything else.” His voice lifted to match hers and he moved forward, going toe-to-toe with her. “I’d lost you, when I’d never even had you. All I’d gotten was a taste I had to share. What the fuck did I have?”

“How about these?” She yanked on his wrist. “You create beautiful things with these hands and this heart.” She jammed her fingers into his chest. “Inside you, there’s more music than anyone I’ve ever known. And you don’t even hear it. You don’t see what I see every time I look at you.”

“What?” he roared, getting in her face.

“I see the sweetest, smartest, sexiest boy I’ve ever known. He’s a man now, but when I look into his eyes, I’m a girl again and he’s a boy. I never truly got to be a child or to stop watching over my shoulder, but with him, I did. Because he stood back to back with me every day. Not in front of me. Not shielding me. I just wanted someone to hold my hand.” She panted out the rest. “I wanted it to be you.”

He closed his fingers around her wrist and tugged it up to his mouth, pressing his lips to the center of her palm. “I let you down.”

“Don’t you dare say that.” Tears blinded her as she shoved him once more, incapable of staying still long enough for his words to sink in. She couldn’t allow them to travel deep enough that she couldn’t dig them out again. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known. I want to marry you, and have babies with you, and grow old with you. I won’t let you keep me from getting what I deserve.” She rained punches over his torso, not fully conscious of where her blows were landing. She’d just add this to her list of regrets later. “I won’t back down. Not this time.”

He caught her fists and pulled them up his chest, dragging her hands around his neck. Then he hauled her up in his arms, groaning loudly and swaying with enough force that she thought they’d end up on the ground. Somehow he maintained his hold on her and she held on to him, wrapping her legs around his waist monkey-style until he toppled them both to the bed. At the last second she tried to brace his shoulder but he groaned again anyway, his face going white for an instant before she crushed her mouth to his and offered him her breath.

She didn’t expect him to respond. The guy was in agony. But his hands slipped into her hair, turning her head the way he needed it, and his tongue stroked over hers, plunging deep. Feeding on her as if he was starving to death and she represented his last opportunity to sate his hunger. She gave him back as good as she got, biting his lower lip, sucking his tongue, pulling on his hair. He freed a hand to push under her top and she reared back to undo his jeans, her hands stilling at the soft but audible click of the door being shut.

She slid a glance sideways and yep, one of their bandmates had closed the door. Probably the one currently laughing like a loon in the hallway.

“Simon,” she muttered, shaking her head. She glanced at Gray and found him grinning up at her, his amusement almost enough to disguise the leftover pain etched on his features.

He was hurt yet she’d whaled on him, and pushed him, and now she was sitting on him. She started to move away but he grabbed her arm, settling her directly over his definitely-not-ailing dick. “Stay put, freedom fighter.”

It should’ve pissed her off to have their argument tossed back in her face. But it was hard to get too annoyed when she couldn’t stop rubbing against his rigid cock like a cat in heat. “You’re injured.”

“And I know how you can take care of me.”

She couldn’t help laughing at his lecherous tone. “Well then, far be it from me not to…serve.”

She shimmied down his body to peel off his jeans and boxers, yanking them down his thighs. She wasted no time in sliding her mouth over the head of his cock, then pleasured his shaft with slow swipes of her tongue. Getting him nice and wet. She traveled lower and buried her face in his groin while she nipped and teased his flesh. She toyed with his balls, rolling them between her lips, giving them both equal treatment, before licking his length right up to the swollen tip.

This time she didn’t torment him with a shallow suck but took him down in one long swallow, taking as much as she could in one pass. At the sound of his grunt, she pushed herself for more, digging her nails into the insides of his thighs while she opened her throat and amped up her suction.

“Jazz, baby, c’mere.”

Shifting her body so that he could see, she flipped up her skirt and pushed aside her panties, moaning around him as her fingers brushed her soaked piercing. She knew his mobility was more limited than usual due to his injuries, so she took advantage, torturing them both with the visual of her swirling her fingers in and out of her pussy. He grabbed her leg and bit the inside of her calf and damn if the jolt didn’t zip right into the heart of her, where she was pulsing around her thrusting fingers.

“Fuck, baby. I can’t watch this.”

“So close your eyes.”

His indignant huff made her grin before her desire demanded center stage. She fucked herself openly, spreading her thighs, giving him the show of her life while she smoothed wet kisses along his shaft. She exalted in every broken gasp he couldn’t hold back and the way his hips jerked and his cock thrust helplessly into her fist. He was so close to the edge, and she’d taken him there. Just like she’d taken herself.

Power surged through her trembling limbs, heady and sweet. “Where do you want to paint me with your cum?” she murmured, pressing her thumb against the seeping slit on his erection.

He bit off a groan, his shoulders nearly coming off the bed as he gripped the sheets and stared fixedly at her pumping hand. “You know where,” he rasped. “Inside you. I want it dripping out of you.”

“Always gotta bump it up a notch.” At his muffled laughter, she lapped up the fluid pooling on the tip of him and pulled her damp hand free to caress the base of his dick. His laughter turned into a moan when she squeezed. Having super strong fingers came in handy sometimes. “So do I.”

“If only I could flip you on your stomach right now…”

“You can’t flip me anywhere. And I think I like that.” She caught her tongue between her teeth and crawled up his body to rub her lips over his, letting him taste himself on her mouth before she traced her wet fingertips over his lower lip. His broody eyes never left hers as he licked up what she’d given him, as he curled his tongue around her fingertip.

“You like taking control, huh?”

“I guess I do.” She eased back to pull off her top, tossing it on the floor. Then she popped the clasp on her bra and leaned forward, trailing her nipples over his mouth. He growled and seized hold of one, biting down with a sensuous pressure that ignited a fierce drumbeat between her legs. “I can’t wait.”

“Then don’t.” He grabbed her hip and situated her over his cock. When she hovered over his length, a fraction of an inch away, he dropped his hand to the mattress.

The permission he offered her in his gaze stole her breath. She knew it wasn’t easy for him to give up control, but he would—for her.

She scratched her nails over the Oblivion tattoo low on his stomach. “You know, I haven’t teased you nearly enough about this tat. But since it says this way to Oblivion, I’m about to see if there’s truth in advertising.” She lifted up slightly then plunged downward, sighing as she took him in right to the hilt. “Oh yeah.” She swiveled her hips and repeated the move. “That’s fucking oblivion, all right.”

“Christ, you’re trying to kill me.” He wheezed and gripped the sheet in his fist, his hips rising to match the violent pace she set.

She leaned forward and braced her hands on the pillow on either side of his head, brazenly riding his cock. Her breasts bounced in his face and she didn’t even worry about excess jiggling because for the first time, she truly felt like a goddess. Sexy and free and so very loved.

Being loved made all the difference.

“So goddamn beautiful.” His fingers spanned her cheek and he brought her mouth close, panting into it as he rocked into her again and again, their rhythm instinctual and unhurried. She didn’t have to reach for the beat or urge him to speed up, because whatever she did, he countered, reading her effortlessly.

They were in sync, their bodies slapping and sliding together with the most delicious friction. God, she never wanted it to end.

Eventually beads of sweat popped out on his forehead and he swore, reaching down to grip her ass and pull on her onto him harder, faster. Her painfully swollen clit and her piercing dragged over his flesh, making them both curse, and she bowed back, locking her arms behind her head as she ascended that first peak and coasted into the thrilling drop, hurtling so swiftly that she didn’t know if she’d find nirvana or a hard landing below.

Not caring, because he was inside her. Filling her up. Making her forget that anything existed except the two of them.

Still pulsing, she gasped as he sat up and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as his body bucked and shuddered and hammered into hers. “God, yes. Come on me. Keep coming.”

“Oh, yes.” She couldn’t stop. She rode him like a wild thing, driven to wring out every drop of bliss. There seemed to be no end to the amount of times she could reach that pinnacle while he held back. Unlike her, he obviously had enough patience to spur her on to new heights for the sheer joy of watching her fly.

The harder he shook, the more demanding he became. He wanted more. Always more.

His control finally snapped, and she held on tight as he thrust one last time. And crushed her mouth to his to capture the unforgettable sound of him letting go.

* * *

He let her sleep for as long as he could.

As the day waned, Gray stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers and tried to memorize every one of her features. The tiny dark mole above her upper lip, the spray of freckles over her nose. Her mouth formed a flawless bow, and without lipstick, it was a rosy pink like her cheeks. Even unconscious, she seemed to be glowing. His stubble burn marred her jaw and neck, but it only made her more beautiful.

His gaze lowered to the guitar pick nestled in the notch of her collarbone. So much of their history existed in such a small, seemingly insignificant item. Her laughter and tears, his love and longing. He traced it with his fingertip, trying to imprint this moment on his mind for the endless days ahead. She would always be the most shining, perfect thing in his life, and he couldn’t be anything but grateful that they’d had this time together. Whatever lay beyond today, he’d shared this with her, and no one would ever be able to take it away from him.

From either of them.

His gaze dropped to the hand beside her cheek and the ring on her finger. That symbol of what he felt for her was worth any penance. When he’d been lying on the concrete, his body in agony, his mind in turmoil, he’d still carried the light from loving her inside him. It was like a lantern, beating back the dark.

No matter how far apart they traveled, he would never let the light go out.

She stirred, her eyelashes fluttering. Slowly, she smiled. “You’re watching me sleep again.”

“Busted.” He shifted more fully onto his good side and swallowed the grunt of pain at the pull in his shoulder. Small favors that the bulk of his injuries were to his left side and he was right-handed. The bastards who’d fucked him up must’ve just gotten unlucky. He seriously doubted they’d spared his playing side.

She sat up and fussed at his shirt, smoothing it over his arm. “Your doctor told me you’re supposed to wear a sling to help manage the pain.”

“You talked to my doctor?”

Her eyebrow winged up. “What do you think?”

He smiled and cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her lip. “I think you’re going to make one hell of a wife someday.”

He hadn’t meant to say it. Not to mention the statement itself sounded kind of sexist. Damn, he’d been hanging around with Nick way too much.

At least that’d be over for a while.

She frowned and he braced for the storm sure to come. “What do you mean someday?” She held up her hand. “See this? I’m not waiting until I’ve gone gray.”

His mouth quirked. “You went Gray years ago.”

“Ha ha. I’m serious. If you think I’m down for some long-ass engagement—”

“We have to talk.” He sat up and bit the inside of his cheek to avoid squealing like a little girl. Goddamn shoulder. The ribs weren’t much better.

“So talk.”

He glanced back to where she sat against the headboard, arms crossed, mouth sulky. “Hear me out.”

“I’m listening.”

“With less than half an ear.” He stroked his eyebrow ring. “I’m leaving for a while.”

She didn’t say anything for so long that he looked back to find her staring at him, all the color in her cheeks gone. Her eyes were so huge and startlingly blue that his breath tripped before evening out again. “This is your home. We’re your family.”

“My family…Jesus, were you ever going to tell me about Brent?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She tugged up the sheet then pushed it down again. “Yeah, I was, but I chose a different timetable than you would’ve probably picked. But I had a good reason.”

“You were afraid of sending me into a spiral.”

Once again, she grew silent.

He nodded, unsurprised. “Figured as much. That’s another reason I have to do this.”

“Do what? Walk away from everyone who cares about you?”

“No. I’m doing this for the people who care about me and depend on me. And I’m doing it most of all for myself. That’s hard for me to say, because I’ve spent so many years living for you. But I can’t do that anymore.”

“I never asked you to.”

“I know you didn’t.” He caressed her leg through the sheet. “I thought I could be everything to you. Make up for everyone who’d ever hurt you.” His hand stopped moving. “Until I joined them, and I realized I’d been doomed to fail all along.”

“I hurt you just as much.”

He started to deny it. That was what he did. But this time, he couldn’t. “Yeah. You did.”

“You…you really started the night you saw me with Nick. That was true.”

Yet again his first reaction was to deflect. He blew out a breath. “Yes.” At her soft inward breath, he gripped her thigh. “That doesn’t mean you’re to blame. I made that choice. You and I weren’t together. You had every right to be with him.” He shook his head. “Just like I had every right to act like a complete dick and do something that harmed me more than anyone else.”

“All those times I tried to talk to you about us in recent years, you blocked me and changed the subject. Ever since Brent, you never said another word about us. How did you expect me to know?”

“I never said I was smart.”

She drew her legs up, out from under his hand. Always, always she curled into herself when she needed to retreat. He shifted to look her way, trying to stifle the flash of pain he knew must register on his face. But she reached forward just the same and cupped his cheek. “You need your sling.”

“Later.”

“You don’t need a wife. You need a keeper.”

“Yeah, for the last while I have, and I’m not about to shackle you with that.”

“Isn’t that for me to decide?” she asked, tucking her hands between her knees.

“No. Not anymore. I need to do this for me, and I’m asking you to understand. Just like I need you to understand why I didn’t make another move toward you for all those years.”

“Because I’d turned you down so many times—”

“No. Don’t get me wrong. That wasn’t a walk in the park.” He smiled faintly. “But I’m used to working for what I want. You could’ve told me no a million times and I never would’ve given up.”

“Then?”

Of all the things he’d had to tell her, this was the hardest of them all.

He sucked in a breath, but it didn’t lessen the pressure in his chest. After rolling out of bed, he walked naked to the dresser and braced his hands on it while he searched for a way to tell her that wouldn’t make her hate him.

There wasn’t one.

“Gray.”

“The night Brent attacked you, I provoked him.” When she didn’t reply, he gripped the edges of the dresser and pushed on. “I came home early to go to your party with you. I rented a tux, whole nine yards. He goaded me by trying to make me think the two of you were involved. I knew it was bullshit. I knew it, and he still grabbed me by the balls. And I reacted.”

“What did you do?”

Her quiet question, so full of confusion and hesitation, nearly broke him. For that moment, she was sixteen years old again, almost innocent and yet the exact opposite. And he was the one who’d nearly shattered her with his thoughtless taunts.

“I told Brent you’d never want him like you wanted me.” He turned back, then crawled across the bed and framed her beautiful face in his hands. Even the aches in his body couldn’t compete with the open wounds in her eyes. “It was my fault. I caused him to go that far. If I hadn’t said—”

“If you hadn’t told the truth, you mean?”

He fell silent.

“I did want you more than anyone else, and I’d certainly never looked at him that way. But I don’t think he even cared about me. I was a pawn to push around. A weapon in his competition with you. And we all lost out because he didn’t know when to back down and when to fight.”

He sat back on his haunches. “Jazz—”

“You came onto me when I wanted to be adopted more than I wanted anything else. Even you,” she said softly. “When adoption wasn’t an option on the table anymore, that’s when you decided to back off. Every time I looked at another man, you’d growl, but you never did one damn thing to indicate you still wanted me. Until Nick.”

“Until Nick,” he agreed.

“Then you decided the three of us getting naked together was a smart idea.”

“Technically, you decided that. I don’t recall getting undressed first.”

“Can you blame me? I never thought I’d get you undressed, ever. Even if the fucking Pope had been in the room, I would’ve stripped down to my birthday suit anyway.”

“Back to the Pope,” he muttered. “Seems to be a recurring theme lately.”

“You know what else keeps recurring? You deciding you know how I must feel.” She shoved her hands through her disordered hair. “By the way, your track record in that department sucks.”

He had to smile. “Tell me how you really feel, honey.”

“Fine.” She stared him dead in the eye and held up her left hand. “I want to marry you. Now. No more bullshit. No more waiting.”

His heart leaped, and for an instant, he nearly agreed. The words were right there in his throat, aching to be spoken. But at the last moment, he lowered his head.

“Okay then,” she said, sounding more defeated than he’d ever heard her. She tossed off the sheet and threw her legs over the side of the bed. “That answers that.”

“Wait.” He squeezed her shoulder. “It’s not about me not wanting to marry you.”

“Then what?”

“It’s that I’m not in a place to make that decision. Honestly, neither are you. We’ve been together such a short time, and I’m a fucking mess. I’m going to get to the other side, but I’m not there yet. Anyone would tell us we’re insane to consider a move this huge without making sure we have a firm foundation underneath us first.”

“Anyone isn’t us, and they haven’t lived holding their breath for years like we have. I believe in you.”

“You haven’t even asked me what happened.” He rubbed the heel of his hand over his sore ribs. “If I relapsed or blew the money Lila gave me or some combination of the two.”

“I have my theories. If you ever doubted whether I want bling more than you, don’t. There’s no bling in this world that could make up for one iota of the terror I felt that night.”

His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ll never be as sorry as I am, because it took both of us to arrive where we are.” Squarely, she met his gaze. “Whatever happened, I trust you and I don’t doubt for a second that you’re going to kick this addiction. I may be naïve. I may be the biggest dummy going. But no one will ever accuse me of not putting one hundred percent of my faith in you.”

“God, baby, I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t write an ode to me yet.” She pointed at him. “If you relapse or get yourself hurt again for any goddamn reason, I swear to God, I will fucking kick your ass harder than those thugs ever did. I will make it my life’s work to bring you pain.”

He laughed and gripped her hand, kissing her palm. “You make it sound so simple. I wish it was.”

“Here we go again.” She sighed heavily. “Have your existential crisis some other day, all right? I’m not feeling too hot.”

“But—” He broke off. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just some stupid nausea. Probably a side effect of having lunch with a drug dealer and getting dumped before dinner.”

“Why would you be nauseous? Do you have the flu?”

“If I do, it’s lasting a long time. It started the day you went missing.”

“That was almost a week ago.”

“Yeah.” She dug out her bra from under the pillow. How it had ended up there, he had no clue. “Whatever. I’m going to go lie down. I’m too tired to argue anymore today.” She stood and began pulling on her bra. “If leaving is your way of throwing yourself on your sword for being human, then that’s your choice.”

“Jazz.” He grabbed her arm and somehow managed not to howl at the sudden movement.

She stopped fumbling with her bra clasp. “What?”

His pulse kicked up. “Could you be pregnant?”

“Of course not.”

“Have you gotten your period recently?”

Pressing her lips together, she yanked up her bra straps and bent to pull on her panties. She remained in a crouched position longer than necessary, her head lowered. She was breathing loudly enough for him to hear. Almost wheezing.

He leaned over to look at her. “What are you doing?”

“Having a panic attack.” She peered up at him. “Do you mind?”

There was absolutely no reason in the world to laugh. Less than none. Yet it tore out of his chest and echoed in the room until she gave in and joined him, wiping her eyes as she rose to sit next to him on the bed.

After a few moments, he covered her hands with his. “Should we…I don’t know, go find out? Make sure.”

“What do you mean we?” Indignance filled her tone. “You don’t have to pee on a stick.”

“Have you ever done that before?”

“Taken a pregnancy test? No. But I heard all about Harper’s. And sat there and tried not to cry out of sheer envy.”

He laced his fingers with hers. “It’s not the right time for us to have a baby.”

“I’d say not, since you just dumped me.”

He laughed again, which earned him a narrow-eyed glance that only made her look more adorable. “I didn’t dump you. I would never. Are you fucking kidding me? But they recommend limiting relationships as a condition of rehab.”

“Rehab?”

“Where did you think I was going?” He withdrew the card Lila had given him from the front pocket of his suitcase and handed it to her. “It’s an eight-week program.”

“Eight weeks,” she said, staring down at the cream-colored card. “But we’re going into the studio soon.”

“Lila said the band could work around me. I’ll just have to make up the time extra fast when I get back.”

She lifted her head. “You’re coming back.”

“Of course.”

Shaking her head, she laughed softly. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“I was getting around to it. Speaking of getting around to things, why did you go see Cricket?” He gripped her arm, suddenly seized by panic. “You didn’t actually buy anything from her, did you? It’s bad enough you smoked because of me. If you’re pregnant—”

“I smoked a small amount very early on. Not that it matters because I’m not pregnant. I’m also not enough of an idiot to covet a cocaine addiction.” She winced. “Sorry. Can I blame pregnancy hormones without actually being pregnant?”

He let go of her arm. “Why do I love you again?”

“Because of my winsome personality? And because I give one hell of a blowjob, with and without happy ending?”

“The second one, definitely. The first…eh, I’m not terribly impressed.”

“Funny. As for why I went to see Cricket, I paid off the rest of your debt. You no longer owe her a damn nickel.” She looked around the floor. “If I can find where I dropped my purse, I’ll show you the proof.”

“Wait a second. You paid my debt? How? With what money?”

“Mine.” She flushed. “With a little backing assistance from your parents. Yes, I called them and told them you were hurt. They came to the hospital, and we talked. They know about your…issue now.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“I asked them for a loan and explained why I needed it. I’ll fully repay them once I get more money from the tour. And the album and the next tour. Then there’s our merchandising.” She smiled bravely. “See? We’re going to be fine.”

“You won’t be repaying them. I’ll be repaying them and you. You aren’t responsible for my cash-flow problems.”

“That’s a quaint way to put it, but hell yes, I am. I’d expect the same from you if I needed your support.” She pulled the ponytail holder off her wrist and twisted her messy hair into a quick bun that somehow looked sexier than the most artfully arranged style.

“You have officially exploded my brain.” Then there was the fact that she was nauseous. Dear God. “I can’t discuss any of this right now.”

“There’s nothing to discuss.” She tugged on her skirt, fluffing the little kick pleats as if they were having an ordinary conversation. “I was overdue on doing my share of bailing out in this relationship.”

“So you just called her up and met with her?” He shook his head, awe overtaking his initial irritation that she’d used her money to play savior. That wasn’t even mentioning the potential danger she’d put herself in. “And I thought I had a pair.”

She patted her chest. “I just store mine up top.”

“That you fucking do.” He expelled a short breath. “We’re going to talk more about this later. In the meantime, do you think Harper will let us borrow her truck once more?”

“I think so, yeah. She’ll also probably demand to come along and make me take the test in the convenience store bathroom.”

“Why? Does she have a preggo fetish or something?”

“No. She knows I do, and she’s my best friend. Other than you, of course.”

“Oh.” It took him a few more deep breaths to find the strength to put aside his own needs in favor of hers. “Would you rather she go with you than me?”

“No.” She held out her hand. “C’mon. While we’re there, you can buy me some Pepto-Bismol. You know, since you have to start paying me back and all.” She rolled her eyes.

He grinned. “Is this what our life together is going to look like?”

“If we’re lucky.”

An hour later, they stared at the two pregnancy tests lined up side by side on the bathroom sink. “Well,” she said, turning away. “That settles that.”

Without saying anything, he gathered her in his arms.

“I shouldn’t have wanted it to be positive.” She pressed her cheek against his chest. “Right? Tell me I’m wrong to want that. It’s a mistake. The timing is horrible.”

“It’s not the best,” he agreed.

“But I wanted it just the same. I never let myself believe it could be true, but I almost willed those two lines to show up. And they didn’t.”

He tipped up her chin and caught her single tear with his finger. He couldn’t sort through everything he was feeling, not yet. Not today. “No. Not this time.”

“When do you have to go?”

“Soon.” He swallowed hard and turned his cheek against her hair. “Will you come with me when I tell the rest of the band that I’m going to Visions? They’re waiting downstairs.”

“Sure.” She eased back, her unshakable mask slipping into place as she moved away from him.

“Jazz. Wait.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

There was one thing he didn’t have to sort out. One truth he wasn’t willing to deny her for any reason. “I was willing those lines to show up too.”

Her smile only made her tears more poignant as she offered him her hand. “Let’s go.”