This was either her brightest idea or her worst.

Several days later, flush from a day of beautification—a manicure, a spa wrap and a new haircut and color, despite the warnings from her stylist that she’d probably end up bald—Jazz pulled up in the driveway of the cabin. She’d really found her groove working with Deak and Simon, and she wanted to extend that streak. Perhaps she could even start knitting the band back together. The two factions of Oblivion would only be separate for a couple more days, and if she could start linking the two groups ahead of time, that would make their upcoming weekend sequester so much more tolerable.

She dug out her phone to text Gray.

Come out and help me.

His answer was nearly instantaneous.

You’re here?

She smiled, reading his anticipation in the question.

I am. Now get your butt out here.

Coming. Both ways soon enough, I hope.

Depends how fast you move.

She sent him a winky face then hopped down out of the truck.

She’d arrived a couple of hours early tonight, hoping they could maybe get some practice time in with the new material she’d purloined from Deak and Simon. They didn’t mind her role as the band go-between, and they even seemed cool with her wanting to get Gray’s feedback on the latest stuff they’d come up with.

And Nick’s too, of course, assuming he was in the mood to play well with others. That was always anyone’s guess. He’d had Tori, the girl groupie with really big boobs, over the last few nights and that had mellowed him out a bit. So Jazz was hopeful he’d still be in good spirits tonight.

Jazz had just opened the back of the truck when the front door opened. As Gray’s familiar cedarwood scent drifted over her, she let out a relieved breath. No weed tonight or any of the other nights since their argument over the sugar video. Just her Gray.

Thank God.

“Hey you. After the long day I’ve had, you’re a sight for bleary eyes.”

“Ouch. Bad one?”

“No, all good actually. We worked on three more songs, including one that Nick’s been working on solo for a while. It’s looking like we might even have a surplus to take into the studio. But the day’s a million times better now.” He tugged her into his arms and covered her mouth with his, swallowing the laughter that followed. His tongue slicked over hers, quick and hot, stirring her moan before he moved back and swept a hand over her hair. “Red now? Christ, woman, being with you is like getting a new chick every night.”

“Do you like it? Check out the streak of pink.” She ducked into the light beam from the truck and shook her head. “I cut a few inches off too.”

“I love all of your looks.”

“And here I thought you never noticed,” she teased.

“You’re always gorgeous.” He rubbed a hunk of her hair between his fingers. “I do have a particular preference though.”

For unknown reasons, her stomach sank. “Oh yeah? Which one?”

“The one where you have beautiful all dark hair without a hint of color in it but night. Because you trapped all the sunshine inside.” He skimmed his fingers over her chin and tipped her face up to his again, sealing the words with a kiss.

“Aww.” She framed his face between her hands and sighed into his mouth. “You say the sweetest things.”

His smile turned wicked. “Just buttering you up for the dirty.”

“Ha. Like you even need to.” She shivered at the cool wind that tinkled through the miles of trees around them. Uncharacteristically cold weather had settled into the area and she’d spent most of the day shivering and imagining snuggling with Gray under the duvet.

“Let’s get you inside.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. Then he let out a startled laugh, evidently noticing her cargo. “Dude, you brought your drums? You moving in with me or what?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “I already did, smartass. We share an apartment, remember?”

“Mmm-hmm. I’ve had the pleasure of living with you for a good portion of my life. But from now on it’ll be in the same bed.” He leaned in the back of the truck and grabbed her disassembled drum kit, hauling up the pieces with an easy strength that almost distracted her from what he’d said.

Almost.

It shouldn’t be that shocking to hear him talk about them being a real couple. She’d already said she wouldn’t settle for anything less, and he’d indicated the same. But it was still so amazing to imagine that it could be so.

“We can actually share the same bed now,” she said softly.

He turned back, his arms full of her kit, and grinned. “The minute we get back to our place, your stuff’s moving into my room.”

She picked up her drum stand and slammed the truck shut, then followed him across the lawn. “What if I want you to move into my room?”

“Mine’s bigger.”

“Is this some kind of gender stereotypical reference? Because my uterus can carry a baby. Unless your sword of destruction can do that, I win.”

“Point taken.” He choked out a laugh and shouldered open the front door. “I can’t wait to see that, by the way.”

Her breath caught. “See what?”

“You pregnant.” He tossed her another of those mind-erasing grins and shoved his way into the foyer.

“Hey Nick,” he called out. “Give us a hand.”

She stopped in the doorway, her arms going lax. First they were going to share a bed. Now he wanted to see her pregnant.

God, she was simply going to burst from happiness if he didn’t stop saying stuff like that. And best of all? It seemed as if he was just talking off the top of his head.

Hell yeah, we’re living together.

Hell yeah, we’re going to have babies.

Hell yeah, I’m going to make you my princess bride and we’ll ride off on golden steers—

“Yo, gimme that.” Nick grabbed the stand out of her hands and headed into the living room. “You planning on being a permanent fixture here until we go back? Well, more than you already are?”

“Nah, I’m not camping out here.” She booty-bumped the door shut. “I just figured since you guys are collaborating, and the three of us are too, that I could kind of be the bridge between the two groups until we get our weekend all together before we head into the studio. Deak and Simon are fine with it. The club shows have been going well—” She broke off, thinking of the awkward show with Gray at Rave. But since that night, he’d seemed fine. Mostly. “Anyway, they want your input on the stuff we’ve been coming up with.”

“Yeah, Vapor and I have had a few breakthroughs too. Lo and fucking behold.” The doorbell rang and Nick’s smile turned lascivious as he strode past her to the door she’d just closed. “Hold that thought.”

“Well hello there—” Nick began, his voice low and suggestive.

After that tone, she definitely hadn’t expected to see a hulking bald tattooed man in the doorway. From Gray’s chuckle behind her, neither had he.

“Switching teams, man?”

“Shut the hell up.” Nick opened the door wider, allowing Jazz to get a better look at the visitor’s face.

Her stomach wobbled. This was not good.

Gray’s hand landed on her shoulder an instant before Nick spoke again. “Snake, what are you doing here?”

“Now is that any way to say hello to your old buddy?” Snake muscled his way into the foyer and gave Nick a hug that Nick returned with little enthusiasm.

“And look at this, my replacements are here too. It’s like old fucking home week.” Snake swaggered across the hall and stuck his hand out at Gray, ignoring Jazz completely. “What’s up, man? Greg, isn’t it?”

“Gray,” he responded, clamping his palm that much tighter on Jazz’s shoulder. “You remember Jazz.”

Snake acted as if Gray hadn’t spoken. Jazz shifted, moving more securely into the circle of Gray’s arm. Not for protection, but because he’d tensed like a wild animal on the verge of leaping for the kill.

“Where is Tori?” Nick asked, bracing his arm on the open door. “How the hell did you find out where we’re staying?”

“Tori’s waiting in the car. She accidentally let it slip about the cabin’s location and I offered to give her a ride here, seeing as we’re old friends and all. Guess you guys had a little hot tub soiree type thing the other night?” Snake circled his finger. “She just thinks you’re the hottest thing ever. Which kind of sucks for me, since we’ve been hitting it since that party backstage last year. Guess a current Oblivion guitarist is worth more than a has-been Oblivion drummer.”

Nick shot Jazz a look. Jazz flung one at Gray, who stared at Snake as if he were the same sort of creature that he’d taken his name from.

“Okay, so you’ve got a thing for Tori. Works for me. She neglected to inform me that you two were acquainted.” From Nick’s thin smile, he’d be sharing his displeasure about that fact with her soon enough. “If you want to take her and go, by all means.”

“Really, man? That’s where we’re at after all this time?” Snake shook his head and glanced at Gray. “You ever have a friend you’ve known since you were kids, one you’d give your goddamn life for, sell you out for the flavor of the month? Fucking blows.”

“Yeah, I know what it’s like to have a friend I’d give my life for.” Gray tightened his embrace on Jazz. “You’re looking at her.”

Jazz’s heart squeezed and she glanced up at Gray, unable to suppress her smile. But he wasn’t looking at her. His attention was locked on Snake, who was glaring at Nick.

“That’s not what happened and you know it. I had your back long after Simon and Deacon turned theirs. I fought to keep you in the band. You promised me you’d keep clean and you broke those promises time after time.”

“Speaking of promises, I ran into someone else you guys know recently.” Snake walked over to the door and closed it, leaning a beefy shoulder against the wood as if he expected someone to try to forcibly shove him out.

No one moved.

Jazz figured the guys were as shell-shocked as she was. This was just supposed to be a relaxing night hanging out. She’d hoped to continue the good streak they were on, and now they had this sneering giant of a dude causing shit.

Nick pushed a hand through his hair, his frustration leaking through. “Yeah? Who?”

“Not sure you know her, Nicky boy, but my man Gray over there sure does.”

Jazz went cold. She didn’t look at Gray but she didn’t need to. The rigidity of the arm around her shoulders told her everything she needed to know.

What was coming next wouldn’t be good.

“About five-six, long blonde hair, blue eyes. Fucking stacked—”

“Mind your manners, asshole.” Gray stepped in front of Jazz as if Snake had thrown an actual punch her way rather than a metaphorical one. She didn’t even think she was his intended target, just a casualty of his war with Nick, Deacon and Simon. Oblivion would always be their band, and he’d never stop seeing her and Gray as outsiders.

But at least before she’d had Gray on her side. Always. Right now, despite his solid frame blocking her view of Snake, she felt very much alone.

“Gray.” She nudged him back but he didn’t move. So she sidestepped him and slapped her best I’m fine smile on, the one that had served her well from facing her first foster mother at twelve to looking Mrs. Duffy in the eye at sixteen after her oldest son had tried to rape her.

She would never break in front of anyone.

“No, you shouldn’t have to listen to his obnoxious BS. He came here just to start trouble. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s—”

“Oh no? I saw you get in her car, fuckwit. Sweet black vintage Mustang, tricked out rims. She waved something at you, and you took it like the greedy bastard you are.” His smile turned lethal. “See, thing is, bud, we travel in the same circles. Carson kids never manage to make it too far out of the hood, do they?”

“I’m not from fucking Carson.” The disdain in Gray’s voice turned the chill in her bones to ice. “Try about twenty miles north, asshole.”

“Oh, right. You’re the suburban rich kid who started slumming with the cute little foster kid who’s so good at shaking her…sticks.” Snake smiled and narrowed his eyes on Jazz. “You like to play with powder too, sweetness? Is that what they teach you up north?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Gray went flying at Snake so fast that Jazz barely had time to get out of the way.

Stunned, she stumbled into the side table near the door, righting it and herself in time to hear Nick heave a sigh of epic proportions before he waded into the fray. Gray had the surprise advantage because he’d attacked Snake with a damn near flying tackle, but Snake outweighed him by a good forty pounds and was now showing that by shoving his meaty fists into Gray’s ribs. Nick muscled his way between them, finally managing to separate them just as Jazz grabbed the frosted hurricane lamp on the table and swung it, nearly hitting Nick in the face.

“Hey, watch it,” Nick yelled, ducking just in time.

“Sorry. So sorry.”

She would’ve dashed around him and taken a cheap shot at Snake while Nick had a hand on his chest, but the blood blooming on Gray’s white T-shirt snagged her attention before she could. She dropped the lamp on the table and rushed at Gray, dragging him back with her into the living room.

“Where are you hurt? Where did he hit you?” Even as the questions burst from her lips she saw the source of his bleeding. His nose gushed like a fire hydrant, the thick red liquid pouring out so fast that she choked out a cry.

“Get him out of here,” she screamed at Nick.

“Fuckin’ nosebleed, huh?” Snake called from behind them, his disgust palpable. “I barely touched the bastard’s pretty face. Goddamn cokehead.”

The words drove nails into her back, striking soft tissue that gave way from the pressure. She clutched Gray’s shirt tighter and pushed him down on the couch, blocking them out. Snake was just throwing taunts. More nasty shit like the stuff he’d tossed out a few minutes ago. All he wanted to do was hurt them.

It wasn’t real.

None of this was real.

She fell to her knees in front of Gray and dragged off her shirt, beyond caring about the catcalls coming from the front hall. Nick’s voice rang out, loud and sharp, as he tried to force Snake to leave. Snake jeered about “pretty white tits” and she didn’t so much as flinch. Nor did she cringe when he mentioned tabloids and headlines and singing his little heart out.

None of it made one iota of difference right now.

With trembling hands, she pressed the material to Gray’s nose and instructed him to lean back, her voice gentle in direct counterpoint to the harshness that surrounded them.

Only Gray mattered.

* * *

He woke up in his bed. Not his bed at their apartment, but the bed at the cabin. Soft, dryer-fresh sheets tickled his chin and he smiled, remembering how his mom had always tucked him in when he was sick. The smile faded as the pain in his ribs kicked in, followed swiftly by the sting in his nose. Sting was a kind word for the brushfire incinerating his sinuses.

Sweet bloody hell.

“You’re awake.”

That voice did not belong to his mother. Or Jazz.

He opened one eye and groaned as the back of an iPad came into view. No. Jazz loved him. She wouldn’t send the first horsewoman of the Apocalypse to his bedside unannounced.

“Doesn’t look too bad.” Cool fingers pressed on his jaw, tilting his face this way and that. “Not broken. Can one sprain one’s nose?”

“Maybe one can, but I doubt he did,” Nick said from behind her. “He barely took a hit. On the other hand, I took a knee to the goddamn balls—”

“God forbid your best days would be behind you in that arena. Fear not, I’m sure you’ll live to mindlessly bang again.” Lila sat on the edge of Gray’s bed and shook back her wheat-colored hair. “Grayson, I didn’t expect you to be my problem child.”

It shouldn’t have made him smile, especially since he was riding the knife’s edge of pain and he had no clue where Jazz was. “You were saving that role for Nick, huh?”

“Saving it? The boy was born for that role.”

“I’m not anyone’s child, problem or otherwise.” Nick strode out of the room and slammed the door, causing Lila’s lips to twitch.

The instant he was gone, however, her polite mask fell away. “How deep are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t fucking play games with me, Duffy. Jazz called and told me what Snake was insinuating. Poor girl’s still naïve enough to believe he’s just trying to start trouble for Oblivion, but we know better, don’t we?”

At Gray’s silence, she stood and loomed over the bed like a vicious angel of mercy. “I don’t like nasty surprises, and you’ve already given me too many of them. She’ll be back in a few minutes from the store. Either you tell me now or you tell me in front of your little sweetheart, but rest assured, your secrets will be mine.”

He coughed and directed his attention at the window. Dawn was breaking in the distance, casting a milky grayish pall over the room. He must’ve slept the night away.

And this question wasn’t going to get any easier if he put it off.

Swallowing hard, he darted a glance at the closed door. “It’s not a big deal,” he began.

“My husband has been addicted to OxyContin for seven years. He’s what you call a functional drug user. That’s what he calls it. I don’t believe such a thing exists.”

“You have a husband?” He’d never really thought much about her personal life, but she wasn’t much older than they were. Not that they weren’t old enough to be married. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“When did you get married?”

“Seven years ago.” She tapped her flawless French manicured nails on her iPad. “Now if we can—”

“Wait, you married your husband even though he was a druggie?”

“It happens. Jazz would marry you, and you qualify.”

He flushed and hated himself for it. “She doesn’t see me that way.”

“No, her rose-coloreds are pretty much welded to her face. There’s also a part of her that gets off on saving the bad boy. She’s not nearly as innocent as you think. Or else she wouldn’t have snuck over here to seduce you the same day I told her to steer clear.”

“Water?” Gray croaked.

Sighing, she plucked a cup off the nightstand. He drained the mug and handed it back then threw his arm over his face, earning a stitch in his bruised ribs for his trouble. That fucker Snake had hands like ham hocks.

“I owe some people some money,” he said finally, once it became obvious that Lila would wait until the end of time for him to come clean.

He’d emptied his savings and given the cash to Cricket as a down payment on the half he’d promised to get them in short order. She’d seemed pleased, and he hadn’t gotten any threatening phone calls since.

He’d also kept Jazz at his side every moment that he could.

“How much money?”

He named a ballpark estimate of his remaining debt and Lila hissed out a breath. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you want to get hurt?”

“I’ve got it under control.”

“You’re not seriously going to sit—I’m sorry, lay—there and tell me you’re handling this. If Snake knows the kind of company you keep, so do other people. That’s not even mentioning your dealer. How long before she contacts a tabloid and sells the story to make up for all the cash you’re not giving her? And that’s if they don’t extract their payment from your flesh first.” She shoved his leg. “Or worse, your hands. They might not heal correctly. And what about Jazz? Are you ready for her to have to watch her back every time she walks out the door? Like right now. She’s parked at some corner drugstore, blithely picking up some Tylenol, and someone could be waiting outside, about to pounce—”

“Stop it.” Gray shot upright in bed and fisted his hands in his hair. “Don’t fucking do this to me.”

He’d already been having nightmares about that very possibility. The only thing that made them go away was turning to Jazz in the night and draining all of his fear into making love to her, over and over. Reassuring himself that his beautiful girl was whole and strong and his, and no one would ever hurt her again.

Least of all him.

“I didn’t do it. You did it.” Lila dropped down on the bed and flicked her finger across her iPad screen before turning the tablet toward him. Jazz beamed out of the photo, her eyes brighter than the sky on a summer day. Smile blinding. “Look at her and tell me you could live with yourself if she paid the price for your sins.”

He grabbed the iPad and scrolled to the next picture. It was another of Jazz, this one at their concert at Red Rocks. She sat behind her kit, her head thrown back. The pink and blue spotlights picked up the gold dust on her skin. The irony wasn’t lost on him. She’d always sparkled. A jewel in a morass of rocks.

His island of safety in the center of a world covered in landmines.

“I won’t let this touch her,” he whispered, knowing he already had. He’d not only let it touch her, he’d invited it into their bed.

“It already is. If it affects you, it affects her.” She took back her iPad and tapped the screen. “I’m transferring the sum you mentioned into your account. I want you to pay every penny to the spinecrackers you owe. Understand me?”

His hand went lax on the sheets. “But—”

“I don’t want a Hallmark moment about this. You’re a commodity I want to protect, as is Jasmine. But make no mistake. If I find out you didn’t pay every red cent of this advance on your future income to those you’re indebted to, or if you don’t keep your fucking nose clean, you will not only be cut off, you’ll be out of the band. End of story. I have no use for drug addicts.” She rose. “If Jasmine is smart, neither will she.”

The door squeaked open and Jazz poked her head in. “I heard my name.”

Gray’s shoulders relaxed, the tension that had gripped him easing away at the sight of his girl’s tremulous smile. “Of course you did. You’re my favorite subject. Get in here.”

She slipped inside the room and waved a small white bag. “I brought you a couple of kinds of pain pills. Hopefully something will work.” She set the bag down on the nightstand and bit her lip, her gaze pingponging from Lila to Gray and back again. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?” She moved forward to fuss with the sheets. “Your color’s better at least and—”

“Baby, stop.” He gripped her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth. “You’ve done enough. You need some sleep.”

“How do you know I haven’t slept?”

“Because he knows you.” Lila patted her shoulder and walked to the door. “Thanks for calling me. I know it must not have been easy.”

Jazz sank on the edge of the bed. “No, it really wasn’t.” She sent Gray a look under her lashes. “But Snake obviously intends to cause problems. Better we deal with them now.”

“True enough. A wise woman faces an enemy head-on.” Lila pivoted to face them once more. “Your work sabbatical is ending a couple of days early. From your shows and the material you’re producing, it appears that you’ve made considerable progress, which is what this was all about. Bring your songs and yourselves to Ripper Records at ten a.m. tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow as in later today? Or tomorrow tomorrow?”

Lila offered Jazz a rare smile. “Tomorrow tomorrow. Enjoy your last day and night in paradise.” She gave Gray a glance heavy with things unsaid. “Make sure you come back prepared to work your asses off. One date remains on your club tour and we have a video to shoot, then you’re heading into the studio. We want to keep this momentum going.”

“Got it. Thanks, Lila.”

“You’re welcome. Feel better,” she said to Gray, pulling the door shut behind her.

Jazz screwed up her mouth and gazed down at her hands. “So on a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you at me right now?”

He laughed and gripped his ribs at the twinge of pain. “Ow. Fucker. Next time I’m going to use his bald head to polish the floor.”

“Sure you are, honey.”

He laughed again. “I’m not pissed at you at all. Well, maybe a two. She didn’t threaten to dismantle me from the balls up, so whatever you said must’ve smoothed over the waters pretty good.” And you inadvertently got me the money I needed.

Definitely couldn’t be pissed about that.

“When I told her Snake had tried to kick her guitarist’s ass, she seemed to lose some of her interest in what Snake was spouting off about. Though she did ask me a kind of weird question.” Jazz frowned. “When I told her I had something to tell her, the first thing she said was, ‘it’s not you and Nick again, is it?’”

“Hmm. If I didn’t think she had more taste than that, I’d wonder if our uptight label rep had a thing for Mr. Personality Plus. But she told me she’s married so that can’t be it.”

She snorted. “Yeah, because people never cheat.”

He slid over on the mattress and held out his arm. “C’mere. It’s been too long since I’ve held you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Holding you could never do that. Besides, hello, big tough guy here.”

Her giggle as she settled in beside him eased the fist gripping his gut. “Oh, I know that. I almost didn’t run out to get you pain pills. You’re too hardcore to ever need them.” She reached up to feather her fingers over his nose, as lightly as a breeze. “You bled so much. I wanted to call 911 but Nick stopped me. So I called Lila instead.”

“She is the fixer of all of Oblivion’s problems.” He cleared his throat. “I, ah, about what Snake said—”

“I know he just wanted to cause trouble.”

“Jazz—”

“I bet that blonde he described is the one I saw you at the club with, right? So that’s not even a thing, because I know about her. You said you didn’t sleep with her and I believe you.”

“Jazz, listen to me.”

“It’s not like the rest even merits a mention. We’re best friends. You wouldn’t hide that from me, no matter what.” At his silence, she lifted her trembling chin. “Right?”

He tightened his hold on her and fought to focus on her face rather than the cramping in his belly. “I need you to listen to me, okay, baby? Just let me say it all before I lose my nerve.”

“Oh God.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and gripped her stomach, rocking back and forth. “No. Don’t. If you don’t say it, it’s not real.”

Swallowing hard, he rubbed her back. “I’m going to stop. I swear to you, this is the end of it.” Her choked sob made him close his eyes. “God, don’t cry. Please.”

“I’m not crying. It’s fucking allergies.”

He scooted forward on the bed—pain be damned—and slid his arm around her waist before pressing his cheek to her back. “I don’t want it between us. I don’t want anything there. If I didn’t quit for any other reason, I would for that one. How I feel about you is stronger than any drug.”

The sound of her quiet weeping ripped a blade through his chest. “Why? You always warned me away from everything. You wouldn’t touch the stuff, ever.”

He exhaled, tightening his grip on her. She was so soft. So easy to break. “Something happened. I let it push me to a dark place, and I slipped. I messed up. And then I kept doing it.”

“What happened?”

The image formed in his mind, as stark as the colored spotlights that had nearly blinded him that night. Nick coming out of a storage closet near the stage, still doing up his zipper. Jazz—his Jazz—following a moment later, still touching up her lipstick. Her hair tousled and wild, with that sleepy sex smile still curving her mouth.

But he couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t lay the blame at her doorstep when he’d made the choice that day and every day since.

“I thought one of my had dreams died,” he said, fisting his hand against her side. “I never expected to get another chance. Now that I am, you can be sure I won’t give it up for anything.”

She turned toward him on the bed, drawing her leg up. One glimpse of her blotchy, tear-stained face and his heart convulsed. “Was it because of that stupid threesome?” She dashed at her tears. “It was the biggest mistake ever. I don’t know what I was thinking—”

“No. That wasn’t it. It was before then.”

“B-before? How much before?”

“A little while. And I know what you were thinking. I always knew, as much as I hated that I wasn’t enough for you.” He cupped her cheek and closed his hand around the tears he caught in his palm. “You wanted love. He gave it to you before I could.”

“No. No, that’s not true. You always loved me better than anyone else. After Brent, everything got so fucked up. There was always this wall between us, and I couldn’t find my way through.”

“What he did was one wall. What I did to push him to that point was another.”

“What? How did you have anything to do with Brent’s actions?”

Her confusion just added another layer to the self-disgust coating his throat. “You never saw me the way I truly am. Christ, I wanted to be a hero in your eyes. You saw me as selfless when the reality is I tried to be your entire world so you wouldn’t notice I didn’t measure up.”

“No.” Her shoulders hunched and she bowed her head, her cheerful hair only emphasizing the bleakness in her eyes. “I know you better than I know myself. The man I know never did anything to hurt me. Not once.”

If only that were true.

“Come here.” When she didn’t move, he hauled her against his chest, tightening his arms until she gasped against his throat. Her tears came harder, racking her shoulders. He pressed his cheek against her head, rocking her as carefully as a child. “I love you with everything I am,” he whispered once her sobs began to slow. “You deserve the best, and I’m going to give it to you.”

She tipped her damp face up to his and drew her quivering thumb over his lower lip. “I love you too. And you’re the best I could ever ask for.”

He dipped his forehead against hers. “I’m going to stop. I promise.”

She nodded so quickly that he would’ve chuckled if he hadn’t been a deep breath away from tears himself. “Yes. We’ll do it together. Whatever you need. I’ll help you.” Her lips lifted hesitantly, the double rainbow bonus after a destructive thunderstorm. “I’m good at projects.”

Now he did laugh, hard enough to elicit the tears he’d battled back. He closed his eyes before they fell, but one snuck through, cutting a shameful path down his cheek. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You gave up everything for me. Everything. Your brother, your parents. You turned your back on them to protect me and I let you down. I left you alone—”

“No.” He grabbed her face, shaking her more than he’d meant to. “Goddammit, no. You aren’t to blame for any of this. I did it. Me, Jazz. I knew what I was doing, and I kept doing it. I did it before the second night we were together. God, oh God, I even wanted you to try it too. So don’t you ever say that you did anything wrong. It was me. I’m the wrong one.”

“No.” She shook her head, tears streaming. Breath hiccupping until each stutter echoed in the pit of his chest like an aborted heartbeat. “I won’t let you face this alone. Let me share the burden.”

“You are. You’re here with me, and I can face anything now.”

“We’ll face it,” she said fiercely. “Like we face everything. Together.”

“Yes. Lila gave me an advance, and I’ll get square with the people I owe. This is almost over.” He gathered her in close and buried his face in her hair, smearing his tears in the silky strands. Hiding them like a humiliating secret. “Just don’t leave me. Please.”

“I won’t. We’re a team. Always.”

Drawing strength from her words and her solid warmth in his arms, he swallowed and edged back. “In my shaving kit in the bathroom, there’s a baggie. Flush it down the toilet. I don’t want to see it or know it ever existed.”

She didn’t hesitate. She slid away from him and rubbed her palms over her cheeks before climbing off the bed and marching into the bathroom. As small as she was, she brought to mind a fierce warrior, ready to do battle in her off-the-shoulder top and skinny jeans.

He closed his eyes at the flush of the toilet, imagining all that pretty powder draining away. And when she walked back to him and whispered, “it’s done,” he realized she wore one of his shirts, wrapping his scent around her even as she faced the reality of his failures.

She’d used her favorite vintage Sex Pistols T-shirt to mop up his blood. Whipping it off without a thought to try to take away his pain.

Inhaling a ragged breath, he nodded and pulled her close. He pressed his face against her breasts, the gentle thud of her heartbeat as calming as the sound of the surf coming in at high tide. Jazz’s love burned inside him now, and nothing else mattered.

He laid his lips on that steady beat, smiling as it sped just from his nearness. She scooped her hand through his hair, gently soothing, and he turned his mouth to her breast. He drew her nipple between his teeth through the shirt, drowning in her summery watermelon scent and the hint of cinnamon from the cabin’s soap on her skin. Those two smells shouldn’t have worked together, but on her they were the perfect mixture of spicy and sweet.

Pushing his hands under her shirt, he rolled it upward until he glimpsed her black-and-white bra. The tiny bow in the middle might’ve made it chaste, if not for the quickness of her breathing pushing her breasts up and almost over the tops of the cups. One flick of his fingers and they spilled free, hopelessly vulnerable, her skin flushing prettily before he closed his mouth around her nipple and sucked in earnest.

Her soft moan washed over him, barely loud enough to reach his ears. He slipped his hand between her legs and cupped her, relishing the pulse that built there too, a butterfly beat against his palm. He licked his way from one breast to the other, giving them both special attention, lapping at the taut peaks while their color bloomed from pink to a needy red. He continued down her belly, shifting onto his stomach on the bed, ignoring his aches and pains in favor of peeling away her snug jeans to reveal the boy shorts beneath.

The damp spot that bloomed on the material beckoned his tongue. He pressed it to her mound and swirled it up and down, chasing the flavor that he’d already become addicted to. When he couldn’t wait another second, he pulled the side over and slid his mouth over her damp folds, absorbing the sigh that went through her and the pinch of her fingers on his hair as if they were as essential as breath. More so, because he’d felt like he’d stopped breathing for months and being there with her, feeling her swell and grow wetter with each erotic kiss, gave him a head rush unlike any other.

The roaring in his ears expanded, blocking out the world except for Jazz and the tiny, impatient pumps of her hips against his face. Knowing that she was trying to restrain herself made him chuckle, as did her growl and insistent tug on his hair, pulling him into her heat. He pushed her jeans and underwear down, freeing them from her legs. Then he banded his arm around the back of her thighs and drew her close, opening her up with the fingers of his opposite hand and teasing her clit and her piercing with the tip of his tongue. He moved down, seeking her entrance, closing his eyes at the suction of her flesh.

Pain raced along his scalp as she seized hold of his hair and gyrated against his face. So open and unabashed in her pursuit of pleasure. He dragged his fingers through her wetness and offered them up to her to lick off. A glimpse of her pink tongue slipping over the twisted silver ring he wore renewed the heavy pounding between his legs. He felt huge. Too sensitive to touch.

She gripped his hand in both of hers as she sucked him dry, swallowing her flavor without hesitation. Her tongue rode his knuckles, twined around his fingers. Just her stare and her wet kisses held him entranced. When her teeth grazed his palm, his cock jerked against his zipper and he groaned, impossibly lost.

Fuck, he could come just from the feel of her mouth on his skin. Any part of his skin.

Going any speed other than fast with her was basically a fantasy. He had a lifetime to make up for. Even spending the rest of his days inside her wouldn’t be enough to settle the debt.

Unable to wait another second, he fell backward and tugged her with him. Curtained by her hair, lost in his need, he lowered his zipper and freed his cock, letting out a groan of gratitude as she took control. One flex of her hips and he was inside her, her body splayed on his chest, her mouth moving with his. She cupped the back of his neck and lifted up before sinking down and taking him deeper. So deep that he couldn’t do anything but stare into the slumberous blue eyes that held him hostage while she started to ride.

She braced her hands on his torso and rolled him inside her, again and again. Slowly, sweetly, she ruled him. Her piercing scraped over his cock, sending a bolt of lightning down his spine, and he jolted off the bed. His ribs protested and he didn’t give a shit. Glimpsing the tight red crests of her breasts playing peekaboo between her arms as her hips undulated and her pussy enveloped him, slick and hot, exceeded any toll on his body.

Hooking one hand under her knee, he pulled her leg up and drew her head down, savoring the hiss of her breath against his cheek. Her heartbeat thundered in time with his, a race they would both win.

Together.

“I love you,” he murmured. She trembled with him, around him, and slid her hand up his abdomen to his heart. He laced his fingers with hers and brought them to his mouth, kissing her knuckles as she shuddered and tumbled over that final rise.

“I love you,” she echoed, her words following him into the glorious spiral of oblivion.

Falling, falling until only peace remained.