The murky gray light filtering in through the window tells me it’s still early; too early for a music star that has to go on stage tonight. I turn over and grab a fistful of sheets, and as I pull them over my head, my nostrils fill with a delicious male scent.

My sluggish mind clicks into gear as last night rushes back to me. I love that I fell asleep with Bryce at my back. When he had wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, my entire body relaxed into his chest. I had this lingering memory, like a dream that escapes me, of words being whispered. But when I focus too hard, the thought drifts away.

I open my eyes and look for him, but his side is empty. The sheets are still warm when I run a quick hand over them, and based on the sound of running water coming from behind the closed bathroom door, I know where he’s disappeared to. And what that means.

I’m about to join him under the water when I notice a folded piece of paper lying on top of his pillow. My name’s scrawled across the front. Frowning, I reach over and pick it up. A worn envelope falls out from between the folds and falls onto my lap. It’s addressed to my mom’s house in Asheville with no return address, but I don’t need one to recognize Bryce’s tight handwriting. There’s also no postage, which means it was never mailed…or never meant to be.

I find out which when I turn back to the note.

You said you wrote me fifty letters after I left. Well, I wrote you a hundred. I just never mailed a single one. I burned most of them during my third tour in some misguided act to finally leave you behind. But it didn’t work. Nothing I did to get you out of my head (and heart) ever worked.

I did save one, however. I couldn’t let it burn with the others and I think you’ll see why. I hope it helps you understand, and what my commitment to you means. I’ll never leave your side again, my Autumn.

Bryce

My heart hammers in my chest as I reach for the beat-up envelope. Now that I look closer, I see it has smudges, nicks, and marks all over it. Like it’s been to war.

When I draw out the thin paper from its envelope and start to read, I catch my breath. That’s exactly where it’s been.

December 31st

Dear Hartman,

I’m not sure I’m going to live to see the new year. I can’t tell you where I am, or what I’m doing. Just know I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be with the only promise of backup being the prayer on loop in my head.

There’s nothing like facing your own death to put your life into perspective. I’ve done some good: saved people from terrible things and stopped even more from happening. But when I place those deeds next to my one awful wrong on the scale of life, there’s no contest.

I know you stopped writing me long ago, but I never have. The letters pile up in my bag, sealed and ready to mail, but never sent. Hell, maybe I’ll never send them. Maybe I’ll keep them like I’ve kept yours as a piece of you. A tether to the outside world. But, every perfect line of those pages is a reminder of what I’ve done.

Just know this: you’re going to be okay. Even while I struggle, I know nothing can take away your strength. You’ve always been beautiful to me, but that beauty is in your bravery, your passion, and the size of your heart.

I still dream about you. About how soft you’d feel if I pressed you against my chest. How you’d lace your arms around my neck and rock up on your toes to meet my lips for a kiss. My nerves and fears are always taken away by those beautiful lips, and as I wrap my arms around your waist and lift you up, I realize I have nothing to worry about. You are mine, and I am yours. Like it’ll always be.

And then I wake up to the hell I live in.

So, here are the words I haven’t been man enough to say for four years. Knowing that they may be my last quiets my soul and eases what’s left of my heart.

I’m sorry, Autumn, and I love you.

Bryce

Tears are streaming down my cheeks by the time I place the letter back down onto the pillow. I wipe my eyes with shaking hands and slip out of bed. The bathroom door is unlocked, but I wouldn’t have let a lock stand between Bryce and me right now.

The room is steamy and hot, fogging up the mirror and glass shower door. My breath hitches as I make out the outline of Bryce behind the glass. He’s all hard lines and muscles. And skin. Lots and lots of tanned skin.

“Autumn?”

I ease open the shower door. My wide eyes roam greedily over his muscled torso, taking in the long lines of his lats, the curve of his pecs, and his washboard abs.

Bryce watches me watch him. “You read the letter?”

I nod, dipping my gaze down between his legs. I want to touch him everywhere, want to show him how much his words mean to me.

He swallows under my heavy look. “Do you understand now?”

I answer by joining him under the hot water. His entire body stiffens as his eyes watch the water droplets rain down on my skin. I catch my breath when his gaze meets mine. He’s as desperate as I am. For more of me, for more of my lips and touch and taste.

We come together in the hot spray of the shower. The steam writhes and swirls around us as we run our hands over each other, feeling and enjoying each other’s wet skin under our palms. He’s holding me so tightly against him that my arms are pressed against his rock-hard chest, but I can splay my palms against him and stroke, lightly scoring his pecs with my nails.

A growl rumbles in this throat from the pain, and when his head dips, I rock up on my toes, meeting in the middle for a long, fiery kiss.

“I meant every word,” he murmurs against my lips. The water had plastered my long hair to my neck and back, and Bryce was enjoying running his hands through it. The subtle graze of his fingers over my wet skin is sending shivers up my spine. “I just didn’t know how to tell you back then.”

I bask under his loving gaze. “You’ve shown me.”

His brown eyes darken. “You’re right.” My breath comes faster as he begins to lower to the floor. “Although there are other, more physical ways to show you how I feel.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him to me. His tongue is waiting for me when he brings his mouth to mine, darting out between his lips to twist with my own. The taste of him floods my senses, making me groan under the wave of raw need that pulses through me and pools deep in my core.

He grabs the back of my thighs and pulls me up to him. I hook my legs around his waist as he pushes me against the glossy marble wall, ankles crossing over each other at the small of his back.

His erection surges against my thigh as I grind against him. His face is ravaged, his eyes dark and brimming with need, as our mouths come together for a desperate kiss. I widen my thighs, drawing him closer to my center, and wait for the precious moment when we become one.

I cry out when he thrusts into me, so hard and deep that his name bursts from my lips. My body tenses as a tidal wave of pleasure crashes through me.

“I love you,” I whisper against his lips.

Bryce stills against me, so suddenly and so sharply that I open my eyes in fear. But when Bryce raises his gaze to mine, I’m rocked by what I see in his eyes. Not just desire or need, but love. Pure, gorgeous love that fills me with the deepest pleasure I’ve ever known.

“I love you, Autumn,” he says, the words ragged on his lips. And then he’s moving against me again, pushing into me so fiercely that my body rocks over the edge I’ve been teetering on. My body goes taut in his arms as the need builds, and Bryce’s low grunts and gasps begin to mingle with mine in the steamy air.

“So much,” he murmurs, thrusting deeper than ever before. My hips rock back into the slick marble wall as he drives into my center one last time, and then we’re both coming, unraveling beneath each other as one.

I close my eyes as my name leaves his lips, loving how it sounds, and then lean forward and take them with my own. “Forever,” I whisper against them.

“Always,” he whispers back.

* * *

Bryce spoons me, warming my back with his chest, as I trace the lines and sinews of his muscles with my fingertips. I want to stay like this forever, in his arms, loved. But while things have never been better in my relationship, my career was a complicated mess. Life’s real funny like that.

The bedsprings shift behind me as Bryce wakes. He draws a deep breath and then leans in, gently squeezing my shoulders as he nestles closer.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks sleepily. His deep, gravelly voice tickles my ear as it breezes across the back of my neck.

My fingertips move from his bicep to forearm. “My meeting with Sunny Records next week.”

His arm moves from my shoulders to my waist, snaking around my belly and pulling me onto my back. When he lifts onto his elbow to look at me, I see concern brewing in his face. “Could you postpone?”

“I’ve had plenty of time. Six whole weeks to make a decision? No brainer. But now,” I let out a long sigh and draw in a little closer to Bryce, “I’m more conflicted than ever.”

Bryce presses his lips to my forehead. The simple gesture is more supportive and loving than a thousand words ever could be.

“It’s not that I’m against this pop deal,” I continue, “it’s that I don't want the strings and hoops that come with it.”

“What are you leaning toward?” he asks softly, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand.

I stare up into his loving brown eyes and wonder how I can explain what I’m feeling. I know I can’t put off this meeting, nor do I really want to. I could have all the time in the world, but I’d still come up with the same result: do I accept and change, or decline and stagnate?

“My heart tells me to stay close to my roots. But this is an amazing opportunity, so my head, and everyone else, says go for it.”

Bryce lowers onto his side and threads his arm over my chest. My body heats up as he closes his eyes and buries his face into my hair.

“Not everyone,” he murmurs into my neck. I turn away from him and let his body capture mine. I wiggle my hips into his and get a throbbing response that makes that sensitive spot between my thighs ache with greed. Every second I’m with him and every time we make love, that ache only grows deeper.

I’m just about to reach out to help release some of that pressure, when Bryce’s voice rumbles in my ear again. “So what are you going to do?”

My hand flutters back onto the sheets as a frown tugs down my lips.

“I don’t know,” I answer with the vulnerable honesty I only show with Bryce. “I’m torn between doing the smart thing that broadens my career or something that makes me happy.”

“Why not both?”

I give a disbelieving snort. “You make it sound easy.”

“Really. Why do you need the label anyway? Your career is already solid and isn’t about to crumble.”

“It almost did,” I say grimily, remembering the Mini Pin Attack as Zoe’s taking to calling it.

“Exactly. You’ve weathered and major storm and come out on top.”

“It’s not over.”

“It’s about to be. Jensen’s no match for the Great Zoe Gomez.”

I snort. “That’s the only thing you’ve said that’s made sense.”

A thrill shoots through me as Bryce’s lips find a particularly sensitive patch of skin behind my ear, and another one on my neck, before moving to my earlobe.

“You’ve got this, Autumn,” he says between kisses. “You’re strong and smart and sexy as hell.”

I look back at him. “What’s being sexy have to do with a career move?”

He shrugs and then gets back to finding patches of my neck that his lips haven’t kissed. “It doesn’t hurt. Besides, I have faith in you.”

Long after his kisses shift into measured, even breathing again, I think about what Bryce said. A resolve gathers up inside of me and settles in just over my breastbone as I realize everything’s going to be okay. With Bryce by my side, everything seems brighter than it has before.

With my cheek safely cradled in the crook of his shoulder, I close my eyes and will my thoughts to still. The rhythmic rise and fall of Bryce’s chest at my back slowly draws me toward sleep, and for the first time in a long time, I go without worry or confusion.

Until my phone start ringing like a bat out of hell.

My hand fumbles around the nightstand for a full minute before finding the annoying thing.

“Whoever you are, it’s nine o’clock in the morning and I have a show tonight.”

Zoe’s beyond chipper voice cuts right through my groggy brain.

“That’s my girl! Now, get your ass out of bed. Asheville won’t woo itself, missy.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“No, you’re not…or else I’m coming in there.”

“Ha! I’m not in my room.”

“I know.”

I bolt up in bed.

“You wouldn’t,” I hiss.

My voice jolts Bryce awake—for two seconds. He opens his eyes, fails around for a moment, then plops his head back on his pillow and falls right back asleep.

So much for ninja reflexives.

A manacle laugh comes through the phone. And the hotel room door. “Autumn, Autumn, Autumn—”

“Stop saying my name,” I snap.

“—Autumn. Just try me, because seeing all of Thor would check off a few items on my bucket list.”