The sound of my phone dinging with a message jolts me from a nightmare filled with screaming babies and broken-down tour buses. Wiping sweat from my forehead, I snatch my phone off the other pillow to find a text from Roman.

Clutching my phone to my chest, fear of the unknown ripples through my core. Most the night I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling with the glorious taste of Roman still in my mouth. All it took was that one mind-blowing kiss to make me his girl again. Anyone who can kiss like that—with aggression, and intent, and sheer enthusiasm—must know everything it takes to please a woman.

When I finally did sleep, it was fitful and plagued with my subconscious fears over what could happen if I actually considered Roman’s proposal.

The entire night had been one surreal moment after another. It was hands down one of the craziest adventures of my lifetime and drained me of nearly every emotion on the spectrum of sanity. Though I was first annoyed by the fact that he needs me and probably always will, I hated myself for not being there for him. It seemed impossible at the time, but I should’ve found a way. I shouldn’t have given up on him so easily. It’s just I was so deep into the darkness at that point in my life and didn’t think to look for sunlight. It didn’t occur to me that he may have believed the truth behind my reason for letting him go.

With every second we spent together, I felt myself falling in love all over again with the grace of a dam about to break. I was only half kidding when I threatened to tie him to my bed. He wasn’t kidding at all when he said the magic was still there. As much as I loved the boy I gave myself to at summer camp, there’s something animalistic in my feelings for the beautiful man capable of mind-blowing kisses. Gone were the fumbling touches and languid tongue strokes, replaced by a feral desire that rocked me to the core.

But is passion alone reason enough to toss my life to the curb? It’s frustrating as shit that we aren’t left with any other options, that I can’t ask him to toss his world aside to mold into mine. What if after six months we decide it won’t work and I’ve neglected everything that’s important to me? What if he does become an international sensation? Can I spend the rest of my life chasing his dreams while giving up my own? Would he expect me to devote my time to following him around barefoot and pregnant?

My god. Why the shit do I suddenly have babies on my mind?

With the bright sun reflecting off the snow out my window, I rub my eyes and roll out of bed. I shuffle across the narrow hallway to Mel’s room, pressing my ear against the door. Just because I can’t hear any grunting or slapping of skin doesn’t mean there isn’t a man sprawled out naked beside her, so I knock gently.

“Mmm…hmm…” she answers sleepily.

Pushing the door open, I burst into her room. “Oh good, you’re up.”

She throws her blanket over her head, moaning when I flop down beside her.

“You’ll never guess in a million years who I made out with last night,” I sing, only slightly ashamed by my giddiness.

“It’s too early for twenty questions,” her muffled voice replies.

“Just guess.”

“No clue. Trent Reznor?”

I giggle. “No, but that would’ve been pretty epic.”

She mumbles something to herself, then clicks her tongue. “Who, Is?”

“Roman Stone.”

Flipping the blanket back down, she gawks at me. “Get. Out.”

“Do you really think I’d joke about seeing him again?”

“Not in a million years.” Bracing herself against the mattress, she sits upright and shakes her head like she’s trying to get over the initial shock. I have to stop myself from laughing the way her dark hair sticks up around her face. “I get the feeling this conversation is going to go down better with booze. Do we have stuff for bloody marys or mimosas?”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a humdinger of a story. I think we only have beer.”

“Bloody beers will work. Let’s go.”

Grabbing my hand, she leads me down the stairway. As she prepares our tomato-based beverages, I confess to everything that happened with Roman. She’s on her second drink by the time I’m finished, giving me this expression like she still thinks I could be fucking with her.

“That’s…whoa.”

“Pretty much,” I say, dropping my head into my hands and setting my elbows on our little island. “Nothing like being forced to make a life-altering decision in a matter of a few hours.”

“I definitely wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. I mean I would, because the guy is so damn sexy that my ovaries throb with jealousy whenever I see him. I just wouldn’t want to make that kind of decision.”

Jaw dropped, I turn to her. “Excuse me? When do you see him? Have you been stalking my ex?”

“I don’t know that ‘stalking’ is the right term, Is. He’s been all over the music scene since Broken Euphoria first had that big hit. I know you’ve been going out of your way to avoid talking about him, so I didn’t say anything. But they’re a really big deal. Last I checked, the band had millions of fans on Spotify, and Roman was recently interviewed by NME.” Her dark eyebrows wiggle as she adds, “He also made a list of the fifty sexiest men alive.”

Now my ovaries are throbbing with jealousy. I’m not so sure I need that kind of shit in my life. A hot boyfriend with millions of women who would do anything for the chance to sleep with him? No thanks. The idea of other women touching him sets my stomach churning. Then again, I allowed that to happen when I cut him out of my life five years ago.

As I guzzle down the rest of my acidic drink, welcoming the warm glow it leaves in my belly, Mel nudges my shoulder. “I should warn you…if you're really going to that concert tonight, you may want to give the entire album a listen first.”

“Why?”

“Just…trust me.”

“Sweet.” I thread my fingers in my hair and tug, wishing we had something stronger than beer. “I should’ve asked him if I could bring you along as my emotional crutch. How the hell am I supposed to know the right thing to do? I spent half the night going through the options in my head and they both seemed…wrong. If I stay, I’ll regret letting him go a second time. If I leave, I’ll regret telling Stew, and Chaz, and all my students to fuck off. Vinnie, not so much.”

“You wouldn’t exactly be telling them to fuck off. You’re allowed to go after things that make you happy. I don’t see any reason why you can’t put everything on hold for a while.” Her expression changes like she’s waiting for me to deck her. Not that I would, but she’s seen me get livid in the past and she must be afraid what she’s going to say next will put me over the edge of reason. “Is…do you still love him?”

“I knew you’d ask that,” I grumble, rubbing calming circles into my temples. The pain of losing my parents may have lessened over the years, but that word still feels like poison on my lips. “Shit Mel, I don’t know. I want to, and I’m scared because I think it would be so damn easy to fall hard and get burned. Part of me will always cherish the boy from camp, but that was so long ago. And he’s changed.”

“But from what you’ve told me, it sounds like all those changes are pretty fan-fucking-tastic.” Again she wiggles her eyebrows before giggling. “Seriously though. If you ask me, I think you owe it to yourself to give this another shot. You guys were perfect for each other when we were kids, and I can’t envision anyone better suited for you than another rockstar. You guys could totally record songs together—be the next royalty couple in the music industry!”

Looking away from her bright hazel eyes, lit with excitement, I draw in a slow set of breaths. Those are basically the same reasons I had for wanting to accept his offer, but I still can’t stop worrying that I’ll be cheating myself out of the things I want. “What about my students?”

“Let him set up video lessons like he offered. I’m sure this concert is going to be a big moneymaker for him. He’s probably making millions in endorsements alone. I saw him on a freaking Hugo ad, Is. The man has money to spend on frivolous things.”

“I don’t know that I have enough money to keep me going for six months. He offered to fire his vocal coach and hire me instead, but I have no idea how much we’re talking. He said it’d at least be enough to pay you rent.”

“Seriously, girl. I wouldn’t worry about your pride or his bank account. He invited you along because he wants to be with you. He’s not going to give a shit about spending money if it means you can join him for this tour.” She rises to her knees and grabs both of my arms, her expression suddenly sober. “Isabelle Marie Martin. This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to you. It’s romantic. It’s adventurous. It’s fucking epic. Where’s my crazy-ass friend who made me try acrobat classes, and go to that hookah bar with those NBA guys, and sing karaoke at the freaking Forty/Forty club, and randomly woke up one morning deciding we’d take a road trip to Myrtle Beach?”

“And what the hell am I supposed to do without my best friend for six months?” I ask with an annoying bout of tears thickening my throat. I can’t remember the last time I cried before Roman came along, and here I’m doing it for the hundredth time since he re-appeared. That alone should be a sign that what I’m considering is dangerous. Fucking feelings. What good have they ever done me anyway?

Melanie clicks her tongue among a smile. “We’ll do the same damn thing we do when I’m at school and you’re at work and we don’t get to see each other for several days in a row. Only your snaps will be way more exciting.”

Laughing, I wrap my arms around her neck and squeeze. “Did I ever tell you moving out here to live with you almost made up for the fact that I had a shitty childhood?”

“Yeah, and when your boy’s making wild, sweaty love to you, remember that if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have crossed paths with the love of your life again.”

“I’d rather not think about you if we get to that stage again.”

“Oh you will, my friend,” she whispers into my ear. Then she pats my back in the most condescending way possible. “If I hear you didn’t find out what that beautiful man’s body is capable of, I’ll totally kick your skinny ass.”

Though we both laugh, I’m already missing the comfort of having her close, because my decision has already been made. I can only hope my fractured heart will understand.

* * *

After endless hours of shopping with Mel and deciding what to pack, I make arrangements with the middle school that coordinates voice lessons between their students and me. A huge weight is lifted from my shoulders when I’m told there’s a part-time music instructor who’s willing to take over while I’m gone. The conversation doesn’t go as well with Chaz, even though I present it as a “job offer” by an old friend and nothing more. He ends the call by wishing me luck, but it sounds especially sarcastic.

Once inside the stadium, I’m led by an older woman in a red vest through the empty hallways to a private elevator. My high-heeled boots clicking against the polished concrete sound like the ticking of a clock counting down my final hours of freedom.

From the tight-lipped, hard looks I keep catching the stadium employee throwing my way, I’m guessing she thinks I’m either a groupie or a hooker paid to get Roman off before the performance. By the third time, I’m ready to tell her to fuck off until I realize maybe that’s something rockstars actually do. Roman can tell me I’m beautiful and say that he loves me a million times, but nothing was ever mentioned about us being exclusive. What if he’s another Hugh Hefner in the making and only plans to keep me as his “main girlfriend” while keeping a rotating door into his bedroom?

Shit. Maybe I didn’t think this idea through enough. I’m all about open relationships, but not with Roman.

“This way,” the woman tells me in a sharp tone.

Blinking rapidly, I realize that I had stopped moving outside of the elevator while lost in my thoughts. My stomach’s in knots as I quickly catch up to her.

I’ve never been backstage for a concert of this size, and it’s total madness. Dozens of men dressed in black t-shirts with the band’s logo on the back scurry about pushing large equipment. They all carry the same tight, somber expression like they’re concentrating and take their job seriously. Or maybe they’re afraid everything won’t go as planned for the first performance. The atmosphere is intimidating, making me realize Roman truly did it—he became the big rockstar I always believed in.

A hulking man with a dark, thick beard and the prettiest blue eyes I’ve seen steps into our path, his gaze hard as he gives me a once-over. “Who’re you?”

“She’s Isabelle Martin,” the woman drones out. “We were told to escort her backstage.”

The man’s eyes grow wide when locked with mine. “You’re Belle?”

Feeling abnormally self-conscious, my cheeks become fiery hot. What has Roman said about me to this guy? “Ah…yeah.”

“Holy shit!” In a blur, I’m swept into his arms and my feet dangle in the air. “Am I ever glad he found you again, sweetheart! Our boy’s the happiest I’ve seen him since I met the fucker!”

“That’s…good,” I reply in a weary tone before he sets me back down.

“I’ll assume you’ve got this,” the woman mumbles before sauntering off.

The man offers a bear paw-sized hand and a charming smile filled with pearly whites. “I’m Reggie. You can thank me for keeping him from going off the deep end while the two of you were apart. Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy. Never met anyone so heart-broken. He was one drunken night away from jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge.”

Holy hell. Was Roman really that bad off? My stomach burns with guilt.

Shaking Reggie’s hand, I offer a small smile. “You’re the band’s bassist, right? Roman told me quite a bit about you last night. You two sound as tight as brothers.”

“I don’t know if I’d take it that far. I mean, if he’s dumb enough to let you go a second time, there’s nothing sacred between us that would stop me from asking you out.” With a teasing grin, he winks and throws a massive ink-covered arm over my shoulders. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s go make our boy’s day.”

By the time we’ve made our way to the green room, I’m starting to suspect that having Reggie around over the next six months will be a bonus. His outgoing presence puts my frayed nerves at ease. At least I’m feeling relaxed until I’m staring into the beautiful eyes that connect my past with the present.

The sight of Roman holding an acoustic guitar in his lap literally sucks all the air out of me. Transported back to the night I first heard him play at camp, my heart does a series of summersaults.

“Brought you a present,” Reggie tells him with a snicker. “You forgot to mention your girl’s a total fucking knockout.”

Your girl. Why does that label suddenly make me all wet and achy?

Roman sets the guitar down on the couch beside him and grunts at his friend. “She’s too fucking hot for your sorry ass, so don’t even think about making a move.”

Heat blossoms through my body as his gaze drags down to the black lace camisole and wine colored velour blazer that were out of my price range, but Mel had insisted I buy and even threw in her own forty bucks. With the approval written all over Roman’s face, I could kiss her.

And I could easily devour Roman the way his muscles stretch a plain black tank top across his broad chest, showing the start of a tattoo below the hallow of his thick neck. Though he’s wearing a simple pair of torn black jeans, no one has ever made denim look that good. Damp straw-colored hair hangs around his face from a recent shower. All at once I’m imagining what it will be like to get him alone under a stream of water…

Reggie clears his throat. “Well, then, I’m clearly no longer welcome here. I’ll let you two have at it before this room bursts into flames.” His deep chuckles fill the room as he steps out, shutting the door behind him.

“You look good enough to eat,” Roman growls out, rising to his feet and stalking toward me.

“Didn’t realize I had a date with the big bad wolf,” I say in what I’d hoped would be a sexy voice but comes out more of a squeak as he’s folding me in his arms.

“I know it’s only been a handful of hours since I left your place, but I missed the fuck outta you, baby,” he whispers into my hair before burying his face against it and squeezing me in a lingering, possessive hug. It’s like he’s claiming me, making me his all over again.

Oh, god. My entire body becomes one giant live wire of electricity, crackling and sparking with a savage ripple of excitement. I’m transfixed by his masculine scent, the rumble of his sexy voice, and the nest of beautiful muscles flexing around me, but it all pales in comparison to the ginormous hard-on digging into my stomach. Did I simply not realize how big he was because he was my first and it was going to hurt either way, or is it possible he’s grown that much since his teenage years?

Fuck this…I’ve waited five long years to be reunited with this man’s body, and I sure as hell don’t plan to wait a second longer. Leaning back, I wait until I have his undivided attention. The intensity behind his beautiful pools of sea green searing past my eyes and into my soul sends a shiver spiking down my spine.

“My answer’s yes, Roman.”

His lips move with a silent “what” as he gives me this dazed look. Either he’s second-guessing his offer, or he’s in shock.

“I’ll go on this tour,” I clarify, hoping to draw out a more readable reaction. “I mean…if that’s still what you want.”

When he grabs me by my hips, his face lights with a sexy as hell smirk before he bends down. The moment our lips meet, my thong soaks with heady arousal.

This time he’s soft and gentle, caressing his fingertips across the small of my back as I’m filled with his scent and sweet taste. It’s not enough to satisfy the heat flickering through my body from his touch, or the wild pang between my legs. I lick across the seam of his lips, begging for permission to enter, and whimper when they part to let me in. Our tongues clash and mingle together like a well-choreographed dance while our lips set the frantic pace.

All at once we’re clutching onto each other so tightly that my lungs can’t function—or maybe I simply can’t breathe from the blinding force behind his kiss—and I hear music. Loud and brash with a mesmerizing tempo. It could be his band warming up, or it could be the soundtrack to our upcoming adventure playing through my head. Either way it’s perfect and what I hope to be a preview of what’s to come.

I only hope we’re strong enough together to overcome the kind of bullshit that separated us the first time.