I told my parents about you. Gabi pressed send on the text message and seconds later her phone rang.

“Hey, angel. I miss you.” Blake’s voice sounded tired.

“I miss you, too.” She missed his voice, his touch, his love, and barely twenty-four hours had passed. “And thank you for the lilies. The florist delivered them this morning.”

“I hope you liked them.”

“I always do.” Blake had sent her flowers three years in a row and each time it gave her strength to face the day.

“So what happened with your parents?”

She inhaled and slumped back onto the bed. They had acted according to plan—apprehensive, protective, and disapproving. She hadn’t planned on telling them about Blake, had argued with herself all Tuesday night about it. But when she arrived at their house on Wednesday, she knew she wouldn’t get through the day without releasing the bubble bursting to break free.

If she couldn’t be with Blake, then she needed to talk about him. And it wasn’t like her parents couldn’t use a distraction. She’d gone with them to the cemetery, had held her mother while she sobbed at Greg’s grave, and watched her father stand tall and proud as he focused on his son’s headstone. Gabi had made morning tea, helped with lunch, then cleaned up the mass of dishes to start again at afternoon tea. And when they sat down for another coffee, the words flittered from her lips. “Mom… Dad…I’ve met someone.”

“I told them I’m seeing someone.”

“And?” He growled, “Come on, sweetheart, you’re killin’ me.”

She chuckled. Nothing was sexier than that guttural sound he made. “I suppose it ended better than expected.”

“Which means?”

She could hear banging in the background, guitars being tuned and people shouting. “Are you working? Is this a bad time?”

“Christ. No. Just tell me!”

“I can hear noise in the background. I don’t want to disturb you.”

“We’re about to do a full rehearsal with the supporting band. I’m not playing for over an hour, though, so tell me. Now, woman!”

OK, she’d procrastinated long enough. “My parents were…concerned about your career. Which I suppose is warranted. What parent wants their only daughter dating a rock star? In the end, though, I think I won them over. They want to meet you… Well, I think dad actually wants to grill you until you cry, but at least he didn’t vow to get out his shotgun.”

Silence.

“Blake?”

“That’s great.” His tone said otherwise.

“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted to meet my parents.”

“I did… I do.” Awkward silence. “Now that it’s actually going to happen, I’m kinda shitting myself.”

Her cheeks lifted with a wide smile. “I’m not looking forward to it myself. But you’ll be fine. They’ll love you. Eventually.”

“Ha ha. Very funny. I gather you didn’t tell them how we met or what I look like.”

“Uh, yes and no. I told them we met online.”

Gabi cringed, remembering the way her father responded, “I hope it wasn’t one of those cheesy relationship sites.”

She’d wanted to smile and say, “No, Daddy, the website was all about drug addiction.” Instead, she bit her tongue.

“I told them the basic details. Your career, where you live, and most importantly that you make me happy. For now, that’s all they need to know.”

Baby steps were the key.

“Well, I’m glad they know. Did today go all right otherwise? I’ve wanted to call you every second.”

Gabi closed her eyes and rested her head back on a pillow. Anniversaries were always tough. This year had been worse because of her ping-ponging emotions and the way her heart yearned for Blake’s comfort. “I got through the day.”

“I wish I was there with you.”

She crinkled her nose and pressed her lips together. Not a single tear had fallen down her cheeks today. She wouldn’t start blubbering now. “I wish you were here, too.” God, how she wished he was here. A simple hug from Blake would soothe everything, the exhaustion, the heartache, the grief. “Remind me again, how long until you finish your tour?”

* * *

“Too long, angel. Too god damn long.” Blake stared at the grey cement floor and focused on the image of Gabi in his mind. The hours apart had made him determined. He was going to make his life a fucking fairytale, all for her, the woman he loved—his best friend.

His first hurdle was Michelle. He’d stayed awake until early morning, writing a list of contacts, making calls to the US and asking favors from people who owed him nothing.

Thank god for the celebrity status draw card.

People had vowed to keep an eye out for potential acting positions. Some even offered to look in different media avenues that might appease the demon bitch.

“Will you call me before you go on stage tomorrow?” Gabi asked.

“Definitely.” He toed a stone with his black boot and watched it roll along the floor. This distance shit really sucked. How the hell did Ryan do it? “I’ll call you first thing in the morning and every fifteen minutes afterward, if you want.”

He’d do it too, if he thought she wouldn’t grow tired of him in the process. He was dying to be with her again. Even the lingering scent of her shampoo on his hotel pillows drove him insane. Housekeeping had wanted to change the sheets this morning, and he’d had to turn them away, clinging like a little bitch to the one piece of Gabi he had left.

Her laugh echoed through the phone, the feminine, free-spirited sound warming his heart and shattering it all at the same time. “I think once before the show will be enough,” she said. “It’s already too hard to concentrate on anything other than you without the promise of calls every fifteen minutes.”

He couldn’t concentrate for shit. The band’s promotional obligations had started this morning with radio and television interviews, and Blake had been too distracted when asked, “What have you been doing since arriving in Australia?”

Apparently, “Gabi” wasn’t the correct response.

Leah hadn’t been amused. Not that it changed her already sullen mood. She still hadn’t recovered from her argument with Ryan, and neither one of them would talk about it.

“I’ll let you get back to work.”

Gabi’s voice kick started his heart into a faster tempo. All night his conscience nagged at him to tell her about Michelle. The few hours sleep had only increased its potency. He couldn’t do it now though, not on the anniversary of her brother’s death. Blake probably wouldn’t tell her until they were face to face again, and hopefully then the problem would be resolved. No, it would be resolved. He’d make sure of it. Until then, he had to deal with keeping the information from her.

“OK. I’ll speak to you soon.”

“I love you, Blake.”

One side of his lips lifted in a grin. He’d never get used to hearing that. “You know, angel, I think that one actually counts.”

“It always counts when I say it.”

He sure hoped so, because right now her love was the only thing keeping him sane.