Players of Marycliff University
, Book 1—Now FREE!
One summer is all they have ...
Lance is a notorious player on and off the football field who never sees a girl more than twice. But with graduation now behind him, his days of carefree flirting are numbered. As soon as his summer internship is over, his parents expect him to return to Texas to take his place in the family business. He’s done everything he can to delay the inevitable, and he’s determined to live it up his last summer as his own man.
Abby comes from a world where men don’t stick around. Lance’s interest does nothing but put her on guard, especially when she finds out he’ll be leaving in less than two months. With two years left of college and a mom who relies on her for everything, Abby doesn’t have the patience for relationships that are doomed from the start. But Lance's persistence wears down her defenses. Abby convinces herself they’ll just have a summer fling, and she’ll be able to come through unscathed.
Will Abby be able to maintain her distance? Or will they both be heartbroken when the summer ends?
If you love steamy college romance featuring hot athletes and sassy heroines, check out this first installment in the hot new series everyone is raving about!
, Book 2
Sleeping with your roommate is a bad idea, right?
Megan Davidson is scrambling to find a new place after Abby, her roommate and best friend, decides to move in with her boyfriend Lance. With just a week until classes start, the open spot left in Lance’s old house looks like her best option. She moves in with Matt and Chris, hot football players who are shameless flirts and notorious players.
Chris Watkins is playing his final season of college football before life as he knows it is over. He’d dreamed of going pro, but the NFL never scouted him and now he’s in self-destruct mode—not bothering to go to classes or even try to graduate. With everything falling apart, he can’t even lose himself in the jersey chasers that are always hanging around. Megan caught his attention over the summer, and with her constantly under his nose, he can’t get her out of his head.
Sparks fly when these two finally give in to their attraction. Will these roommates turned lovers manage to keep things light and easy like they planned? Or will their flame burn hotter than anyone is ready for?
If you love steamy college romance full of hot athletes, fiery heroines, and chemistry that melts the pages, get Convenient Fall now!
, A Players of Marycliff University Novella
Hannah Glover spends the summer before her senior year of high school with her best friend’s family in Westport, Washington. One fateful day on the beach, she meets Matt Schwartz, a sexy surf instructor who catches her eye and sends electricity zinging through her body.
The prequel to Matt and Hannah’s story in Managed Hearts, this sweet and sexy story of firsts originally appeared in the anthology Because Beards. Now available as a standalone novella, read the full story of Matt and Hannah’s first summer together.
, Book 3
Do you choose your dream job—or the guy you’ve always wanted?
Three years ago Hannah met a sexy surfer while on vacation in Westport, WA. After a whirlwind summer romance, he ghosts. She’s tried to move on, but no other guy has ever measured up. And now she comes face to face with him on the first day of her new internship. To make matters worse, he’s one of her managers, and he has no idea who she is.
Matt graduated in December after his final football season, and is now working a desk job. Having spent his whole life as an athlete, the day to day grind chafes at him. All his friends are moving on with relationships and pursuing their goals while he’s left as the third wheel. And despite his reputation as a player, he’s the only one who ever wanted a girlfriend.
And then Hannah Glover shows back up in his life—the girl who simultaneously made him want a relationship and ruined him for anyone else without him even realizing it. He wants her now more than ever, but she doesn’t trust him after the way he ended things before. Which should be fine since he’s her manager at his first job out of college, and their company has a strict no fraternization policy. But Matt just can’t seem to help himself where she’s concerned. And she won’t be an intern forever, right?
Will he be able to convince Hannah to give them another shot? Or will their past and their present conspire to keep them apart?
If you love steamy new adult romance featuring hot college athletes with a hidden dominant side, heroines who stand up for themselves, and a hard-won happily ever after, check out the third installment in the Players of Marycliff University series now!
, Book 4
Christmas. An engagement ring. An unexpected reappearance.
After a romantic six months, Lance and Abby's relationship feels solid, and he's excited to have her spend Christmas with his family in Texas. She doesn't know he has a diamond ring stashed in his suitcase, along with a plan to propose to her on Christmas morning.
He's forced to scrap the proposal, however, when Abby’s dead-beat brother shows up at her mom's house two days before Christmas. Abby, worried about her brother's sudden reappearance after more than a year of silence, insists on going home.
Just when Lance thought he'd broken through Abby's defenses, she puts up another one in his path. Pushing him away, she insists on dealing with her family herself, a bad idea in his mind. Will proposing reassure her that he’s in it for the long haul? Or just make everything exponentially worse?
The fourth installment in the Players of Marycliff University series follows the developing relationship of Lance and Abby from Summer Fling. It’s a story about family, trust, and where you should turn when life gets messy. If you’re looking for a hero you can swoon over and make your next book boyfriend, one-click Unsaid Things now!
, Book 5
Learning to deal ...
Back at Marycliff University for her senior year, Elena Martinez is still reeling from her father’s devastating car accident over the summer. Awash in anger and guilt and shouldering ongoing family responsibilities, she tries to pretend that everything's fine, even though it’s anything but.
Daniel Carter has been looking forward to seeing Elena again all summer. Sexy and energetic, she’d captured his attention on the surf trip they’d both gone on in early June, and he’s eager continue what they started on the beach. But when he runs into her the week before classes start, she’s subdued and carrying the obvious weight of emotional pain. Determined to help her, he becomes her refuge from the stress and grief pulling her under.
Will Daniel’s persistence be enough to break through Elena’s emotional barriers? Or will her fears and hangups be the end of their relationship before it can really even start?
Gripping and emotional, Coping Skills will hook you in and not let go until the very end. If you love strong and stubborn heroines, dominant and caring alphas, and stories that hit you in all the feels, one-click this book now!
, Book 6
First impressions aren’t always right.
Layla Caldwell is finishing her senior year, intent on keeping her head down, acing her classes, and getting a job after graduation that allows her time to write. The last thing she has time for is a playboy football player who flirts with any and every female. But he's just who she gets paired up with in class.
Evan Coopman has seen Layla around and been intrigued by the quiet, pretty girl who keeps to herself. Now’s his chance to get to know her. Except she wants nothing to do with him, treating him with disdain since she thinks he’s a dumb jock who couldn’t pass a class without a lot of help.
Forced to work together, their relationship progresses from cold dislike to grudging respect. But Layla isn’t convinced that her first impression of Evan is wrong after all. Will his reputation be his downfall? Or will her assumptions ruin everything?
If you love snarky heroines and chemistry that ignites on the page, grab this fun, enemies to lovers story now!
Rebound Series
, Book 1—Now FREE!
There’s no word for someone like me.
If the crash that ended Tom’s life had happened five weeks later, I’d be a widow.
Instead? I’m just … tragic. My happily ever after was ripped away before it even had the chance to start.
It’s been a year since fate took him away from me. And my best friend Amy is convinced that I’m stuck, refusing to move on. Since I won’t go to a grief support group, which was her first suggestion, she’s decided I need a hot, dirty fling. To move on and get back to living again instead of just existing.
She calls it rebound therapy.
I call it a load of crap. But there’s no arguing with her once she gets an idea in her head. And going out for drinks with my friend isn’t a bad way to spend an evening, even if I know she's going to be scoping out all the available men in our vicinity.
What I don’t expect is to actually meet one. But Brian slips past all my defenses. Sexy and sweet, he makes me leave behind the sad, depressed girl I’d become, bringing me to life again.
Until a cruel reminder of what really happened the night Tom died slaps me in the face. How can I ever get past that?
*Rebound Therapy is a sexy, sweet standalone about starting over and learning to love again. If you love angsty reads that hit you in all the feels but leave you with a smile on your face, grab this book now!
, Book 2
You know the old saying, “Always the bridesmaid never the bride”? Well, in my case it’s the maid of honor.
My best friend Jenna is engaged for the second time. I’m happy for her. I really am. She’s been through a lot, and she deserves the wedding of her dreams.
I just wish I could find someone too. It stings that she’s fallen in love for the second time, ready to walk down the aisle, and I’ve never even been close.
It's not for lack of trying.
To make matters worse, her fiancé’s wine bar had become our favorite hangout. That is, until I dated his business partner Adam. I thought we had a connection, but after the second date he stopped calling. He's been weird and formal—instead of flirty and charming—ever since.
I make sure to show up with a date for the engagement party, thinking that’ll make things easier. But Adam starts acting like a jealous ex, and I can’t figure out his problem. He’s the one who stopped calling me.
Now I’m the maid of honor and Adam’s the best man. I won't be able to avoid him anymore. We’ll have to make nice so we don’t ruin things for our friends.
With him constantly going hot and cold, I'm off-balance and don't know how to act. And when he kisses me in front of everyone two days before the wedding?
Everything just gets even more complicated.
*Rebound Envy is a slow-burn, sexy standalone, with lots of chemistry and a sizzling finish. If you love great friendships, Princess Bride references, and steamy scenes that make you squirm, one-click the second book in the Rebound Series now!
, Book 3
What’s the best way to get over your cheating ex-boyfriend?
Take a new job halfway across the country and have a fantastic one-night stand your first night in town.
At least that’s what I did.
I felt pretty good about my decisions … until I bumped into the guy that gave me the best orgasms of my life my first day at work.
Turns out, he owns the vineyard where I’m the new events coordinator. And he’s not satisfied with just one night.
I’d invited him back to my hotel as a palate cleanser, and now he wants to be the main course. Or to make me the main course.
Aside from the problems inherent in the fact that Max is my boss’s boss, I’m still raw from the end of my last relationship. And he's too experienced to be anything but a player. Am I just setting myself up for more heartbreak by getting involved with him?
*Rebound Revival is a steamy standalone romance about how sometimes a change of scenery is just what you need to find yourself, and maybe even someone else. If you love stories about starting over and taking chances, get this book today!
Songs and Sonatas Series
, Book 1
A former boyband star gets a little musical education from a sexy violinist. Will they stay in different keys or find a way to play in tune?
The first time I saw her I knew I wanted her. And when she talked music with me? I didn’t stand a chance.
When she found out my secret past—that I used to be a famous pop star—I expected her to fangirl all over me. Because even though it’s been years since people cared about us, a ton of girls who grew up with our music still go nuts when they find out who I am.
Not Gabby. She was more interested in our future than my past.
I tried to stay away at first. She’s so young, eighteen to my twenty-two. Just starting out in college while I’m getting ready to leave.
But I couldn’t leave her alone. Her passion, her drive, her intoxicating combination of innocence and audacity. And that sexy little Texas twang. Damn. I was sunk from the start.
With her help, I started writing better songs than ever. And when a video of me playing a new song landed on YouTube and went viral, my life exploded in a return to fame I never thought I wanted.
How can I pass up this chance now that it’s being offered to me again? But if I take it, will Gabby and I be able to survive?
If you like rock star romances and sexy musicians, or you’ve ever been curious about what happens to a one hit wonder after the fame fades, don’t miss the first installment in this fresh take on a familiar trope. Full of sizzling chemistry and heartfelt emotion, grab this new adult pop star romance now!
, Book 2 (Coming December 4!)
Summertime … and the living is easy.
Unless you’re dating the next big pop star, and your meddling parents are holding you hostage more than a thousand miles away.
Okay, so maybe that’s a tad dramatic, but after spending all the time I want with Jonathan during the school year—playing music and helping him fill out the rest of his album—being separated is harder than I expected.
We manage to convince my parents to let me visit him in California for two weeks. But they have stipulations. My older sister has to come with me as a chaperone, and if we’re staying in Jonathan’s apartment, then he has to stay at his parents’ house.
Two weeks isn’t nearly long enough when I’d been pushing for the whole summer, but I’ll take what I can get.
Jonathan’s dad is friendly and welcoming, his brothers are warming up to me, but his mom … Well, let’s just say that I thought Dallas was the home of sugar-coated venom. I guess we don’t have a monopoly on that after all.
Despite parental interference on both sides, our time together is almost everything I hoped it would be. Unexpected opportunities come my way that make it impossible for my parents to drag me back home, extending my stay and forging valuable contacts in the music industry.
But all the good doesn’t cover over the fact that Jonathan’s mom and manager both think I’m a distraction. Their thinly veiled barbs make the city of angels feel more like the city of vipers.
Once our summer together ends, I’ll head back to Marycliff University while Jonathan goes on a North American tour to promote his new album. How am I going to handle it when we spend more time apart than we do together?
Picking up Jonathan and Gabby’s story, Development is the second installment in the Songs and Sonatas series. If you love coming of age stories about finding yourself and standing for what you want in the face of opposition, don’t miss this hot new take on the rockstar romance genre!
, Book 3 (Coming January 15, 2018!)
The conclusion to Jonathan and Gabby’s story. Full description coming soon!
Short Stories
Avery has had the worst day.
She found out her boyfriend is married when she went to visit him at his office and encountered his wife. In a funk, she’s missed her train stop on the way home. A sexy stranger notices her and invites her out for drinks.
Is this just what she needs to get over her bad day?
Keep reading for a sneak peek of Development, Songs and Sonatas Book 2!
Jonathan
Oppressive silence greets me as I walk into my empty apartment. My ears still ring from tonight’s show. The first of many to come.
I started my first official North American tour as a solo artist at the El Rey Theatre, and it was sold out. The audience was on their feet almost the entire time, and they ate up everything I gave them like they were starving for my music.
My music, this time, not something someone else wrote. My words, my melodies, my feelings. That Gabby helped craft into something show stopping. There were moments of transcendence on that stage tonight. And Gabby had to miss it.
The exhilaration of performing, of doing what I know I was always meant to do, is tempered by her absence.
I wish she were here.
That’s the overwhelming thought that’s followed me every day since she left. I carry her absence with me like a physical thing, an ever-present accessory for my wardrobe. It’s been just over two weeks since I took her to the airport to fly back to Texas to be with her parents before school started again. She moved into her dorm today. She texted me pictures of her room this afternoon, but we haven’t had a chance to talk. I’ve been busy all day with the soundcheck and show prep and then the actual concert.
The concert tonight blew my mind. I haven’t felt as amazing as I did on stage in so long, maybe not ever. With Brash it was different. Colt was the front man, and I played guitar and sang backup vocals. Now it’s all me. And I had the audience eating out of the palm of my hand.
This is the start of the prerelease concerts to push sales of my album, which drops in a month. I’m spiraling out from LA—playing in San Diego, San Jose, and San Francisco—before heading farther north. The lead single went out last week, and it’s already topping the Billboard charts. Not only was tonight’s show sold out, but so are the ones for the next month. The tour manager and booking agent are scrambling to find bigger venues in some of the cities or adding additional shows where only smaller venues are available.
It’s crazy.
And being here, alone, makes it all even more surreal.
Everyone thinks that life as a musician is full of glamour and prestige. But the reality is that more often than not you end up alone in an apartment or a hotel room, crashing hard off the adrenaline rush.
Making my way through my apartment, I drop my keys on the breakfast bar in the kitchen, softly humming through the chorus of “Everything” to keep my chords from seizing up as I switch on the electric kettle to make a cup of chamomile tea. After the show I barely had time to gulp down room-temperature water before getting ushered into the post-show meet and greets that are part of the premium VIP tickets. Concert days are a whirlwind of preshow soundchecks, meetings with the press, the concert itself—which always feels like it’s over in a heartbeat—and then the post-show meet and greets with fans. The VIP ticket holders tonight were an interesting mix of twenty-somethings and teenagers—fans from my days with Brash as well as new fans who discovered me when that video went viral last year. They seem to be representative of my entire fan base if the wider audience on social media is anything to go by.
But the only one I want to see, want to talk to, is Gabby. Once the water reaches boiling, I switch off the kettle, pour the water over the tea bag, and carry it, the honey, and a spoon into my room. I’m impatient and don’t want to wait for it to finish steeping before I call Gabby. Setting it all on my desk, I pull up Skype and click on her icon.
In seconds, her smiling face fills the screen, and a wave of warmth washes over me. “Hey!” The picture jostles, and I know she’s carrying her laptop to her bed so she can talk to me and be comfortable. “How’d your show go tonight?” She sits cross-legged, her elbows propped on her knees as her eyes scan the screen, eating up my picture the same way I’m doing to hers.
“Good. Great. It was …” I search for the right words. It was amazing and surreal and insane and awful. Because she wasn’t there to see it, to hear it, to share it with me. “It was really good.”
She snorts at my inept description. “Weren’t you an English major? Shouldn’t you be better at painting a picture with words?” But before I can answer, she shakes her head and gives me a wistful smile. “I wish I could’ve been there.”
“Me too.” I force a crooked smile in return. “I doubt your professors would count it as one of the concerts you’re required to see this semester, though.”
She laughs at that, a genuine laugh, and my smile becomes more real. Even though we talk every night, I miss hearing her laugh in person. Video chats and phone calls aren’t the same. Propping her face on her hand, her eyes flick to the camera and back to the screen. “Talk to me, though. Tell me more. You have to have something to say about the show besides just ‘good.’”
Settling back in my chair, I tell her everything—the two hundred or so pictures I took with fans before the show while signing everything from magazine covers to cleavage. Gabby’s eyes narrow at that one, and that little flicker of jealousy makes me happier than it should. “Don’t worry, Gabby. Your cleavage is much better.”
She snorts, sitting up and pushing her breasts together with her arms. “Yeah, my barely B cups don’t really count as cleavage.”
My eyes are glued to her breasts, framed in the neck of her berry colored tank top, and I don’t register what I’m saying.
“What?” She sounds surprised and almost irritated.
“What?” I’m confused.
“Did you just agree with me?”
“Did I?”
She stops squishing her boobs together, staring at me with pursed lips and an arched eyebrow. “You said, ‘Mmhmm.’”
Wiping a hand over my face, I give her my most serious look. “Gabby, your boobs were filling my screen. I’m not responsible for anything that comes out of my mouth when that happens.”
She laughs again, her brief annoyance mollified by my honesty. “Well, good. I don’t like you looking at anyone else’s cleavage.”
“I don’t want to look at anyone else’s cleavage.” I lean closer to my screen, my eyes staring straight into the camera. “If you want to give me a closer look at yours, I wouldn’t object.”
Her laugh this time is tinged with nerves. “You want me to take my top off?”
“You have your own bedroom this year, right? With a shared space in the middle. So Lauren shouldn’t interrupt …”
She bites her lip, her cheeks turning a little pink. “Hang on,” she says, then the picture jostles again, and I’m left staring at the shadows on the wall behind her headboard. The microphone picks up ambient noises of her moving around, but I’m not quite sure what she’s doing.
Then she’s back, more jostling, a close up of her face as she scoots the computer farther down the bed, and when she straightens I can see her from the waist up. Biting her lip again, she crosses her arms at her waist and strips off her tank top in one quick motion, and I’m staring at her in a lacy red little bra, the kind that closes in the front. My favorite kind.
I let out a groan as blood rushes south. “God, I wish you were here with me.”
“Oh yeah? What would you do if I were?” Her cheeks are still pink, but the nervous lip biting is gone, replaced by Gabby’s sultry, sexy voice.
“I’d tease your nipples through the lace while I kissed you, then undo that front clasp and push the lace out of the way so I could suck on them.”
My breath catches when her hands cup her breasts, and she rubs her thumbs back and forth over her nipples. “Like this?”
“Fuck yes,” I breathe. My sweet, innocent Gabby from a year ago is gone, replaced by this vixen.
I sit back in my chair, needing more room in my pants for my now rock-hard dick as I watch her undo the clasp and peel the lace away from her breasts. “Jesus, Gabby.” Her perfect pink nipples are hard, and my mouth waters, wanting to taste them. “I miss you so fucking much.”
“Me too. I wish you were here touching me. It’s so much better than touching myself.”
I groan again, needing to touch myself now. I squeeze my dick through my jeans, wishing it was her hand. “I wish I were touching you too.”
“Are you touching yourself?” Her voice is breathless, her lids heavy, her lips glossy.
“Yes,” I grit out, my hands undoing the button and fly on my pants. I can’t take watching her tweak her own nipples without some kind of relief.
“Let me see.”
“Oh God.” I have a desktop, so I can’t tilt the camera. Standing, I shove my jeans and boxers down past my hips, running my hand over myself, letting her watch.
This is a first for us. While she was at her parents’ house she didn’t feel comfortable doing anything like this. We had phone sex late one night after her parents had gone to bed. But she was scared of being overheard, so it ended up being a one time thing.
But this—her eyes avid as she watches me stroke my hard cock—this is so fucking hot. Amped up on adrenaline from the show and coming down fast off that high alone in my house, this kind of release is what I need. The only thing better would be if it were her hand, her mouth, her everything, here, in person instead of a thousand miles away. But I’ll take what I can get.
“I want to watch you too,” I pant. “Let me see you touch yourself.”
She bites her lip again, but leans back, her hands sliding under the waistband of the cotton shorts she sleeps in when she’s not with me.
“No.” I stop stroking myself, giving the head a squeeze. “No, not like that. Take off your shorts. Let me see you.”
She hesitates a second, then the bouncing of her bed jostles the picture again, but when it settles, she’s back on the bed, naked, spreading her legs for me.
“Jesus.” My hand starts working my cock again as her fingers slide down her torso, gathering the wetness glistening between her legs and rubbing circles over her clit. She starts slow, but I know she’s as turned on as I am. Soon her fingers start to speed up, and my own speed matches hers.
She has one hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her groans and the way she always starts saying, “Oh my God,” when she gets close. Her hips arch into her hand and she clamps her legs together over her fingers, her muscles twitching in the aftermath of her orgasm.
Watching her come, listening to her groans, has my balls drawing up tight, that tingle starting at the base of my spine and shooting outward as my own release spills over my hand. “Jesus.”
I can’t see much of Gabby because her leg mostly blocks the camera. She hasn’t moved since she came, and I wish she were collapsed on my chest instead—our skin stuck together, her breasts pushing into my chest, her head on my shoulder, her hair spread around us. God, I miss her.
While video sex with her has satisfied one need, it’s opened a whole new depth of aching desire for her. Not just sex, but connection. Our connection, the way we move and operate on the same wavelength when we’re together, sharing the same space, the same air. This is a paltry substitute.
“Are you there, Gabby?”
She stirs as I strip off my shirt, cleaning myself up with it and tossing it to the side. Her cheeks are pink as her face fills the screen again, and she presses her hands to them.
“I can’t believe we did that,” she whispers to the camera.
The look on her face makes me want to cup her cheek, but I can’t. Clenching my hand into a fist at my side, I force a lopsided grin. “It was fucking hot. Thank you.”
She bites her lip. “You’re welcome. Did you um … finish?”
Chuckling, I nod. “Yes. How could I not with that kind of show?”
Her cheeks turn more pink, and the fact that she’s blushing about this is so damn cute.
She props her head in her hand, her eyes looking over the screen, and she sighs. “October seems like ages away.”
“I know. But I have good news on that front.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I smile at her face on the screen. “Someone had to pull out of the Tinnabulation Festival in Spokane. They want me to fill the hole in the lineup.”
Gabby’s eyes go wide, and her hand drops to the bed. “I heard something about that on the radio. It’s soon, right? When is it?”
“I’d play on September ninth.”
She props herself up almost all the way so I can see her breasts again, her nipples now soft. The picture bumps as she adjusts her position on the bed. “That’s in like two weeks!”
“I know.” I can’t wipe the smile on my face.
“Oh my God! I’m so excited!” She does a little dance that sets her computer bouncing on her bed again, making it so she’s nothing but a blur. When she settles down, her face fills the camera again, her smile as wide as mine. “When did you find out? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I just found out yesterday. I was waiting to tell you on our video chat because I wanted to see your face. My tour manager is still working out all the details. We’ll have to move one of my other shows that was supposed to be here. But it’s pretty much a done deal.”
“Yay,” she says softly, clapping her hands. “That makes me so happy. The thought of two months without seeing you was like torture. Now we’ll only be apart for a month between visits. It still sucks, but it’s a lot sooner. How long will you be here?”
I scratch my chin, thinking about that. “I’m not sure. A couple days at least. I’ll let you know when the plans are finalized. But at the very least I’ll be there two nights. You’ll come stay in the hotel with me.” I make it a statement, but I’m happy when she nods her agreement.
“Of course. If you didn’t insist, I would. I can’t wait to see you.”
“I can’t wait to see you either.”
She gives me another wistful smile, then her eyes go to the camera so it looks like she’s looking right at me. “We didn’t get to finish talking about your show tonight. Tell me the rest. You signed cleavage, but mine’s better, and then? How was the performance? Was the crowd excited or dead? How full was it?” She makes gimme motions with her hands. “I need details, dude.”
That provokes a laugh from me. “The crowd was great. Even though my lead single just came out like a week ago, people were already singing along with it. And the reaction to ‘Everything’ … It was like they were captivated. Everyone was quiet, still. It was almost like being at a recital with you, except they went crazy, clapping and screaming and cheering, when I was done. It was amazing.”
“You’re amazing,” she says.
“You make me amazing. I wouldn’t be where I am without you.”
She drops her eyes, but doesn’t contradict me. It’s true, and she knows it, even if it makes her uncomfortable for me to say so. We chat for a few minutes longer, but she’s yawning, and exhaustion drags at me as well. Coming down from a show happens in stages. The initial adrenaline has burned off, and now I’m left with the crash.
“Get some rest, Gabby. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She yawns again, so wide I can practically see her tonsils. “Okay. You too. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
I wait for her to end the call before getting up and discarding the forgotten chamomile tea, the tea bag still sitting in the tepid water. Even though all I want is to crawl into bed, I make a new cup, knowing my throat needs the soothing warmth and honey to recover from tonight. This time, I steep it for a few minutes, add honey and stir in an ice cube so I can gulp it down before taking a quick shower.
But I toss and turn when I get into bed, unable to get comfortable on my top of the line mattress. It’s too empty. Too cold without Gabby.