Blake had been on auto-pilot for the remainder of the flight and the traffic-filled drive to their hotel. Things between them were too effortless, too right. They both wanted the same thing, so why did it feel like he was skirting disaster instead of being happy with the glimpse of a perfect future?

He kept freaking out, wondering if Gabi’s feelings would change when she faced the harsher aspects of his life. So far, things had been quiet. Only one security guard had been necessary to escort them in and out of the airports. He’d been asked for one or two photographs, had signed the same amount of autographs and that was it. Barely anyone recognized him.

That would all change once he caught up with the rest of Reckless Beat—the unruly fans, the lack of privacy, the distance it would place between them while on tour. Right now was the easy part. Yet, when they pulled up to the Crown hotel, well past nightfall, and their chauffeured ride was surrounded by a hoard of screaming fans, his initial panic was doused by her glance of admiration. She waited patiently beside him as he chatted to the crowd before making their way into the hotel.

It was surreal. And way too easy.

“You’re quiet,” Gabi broke the silence as they rode the elevator to the 31^st floor. “Are you tired?”

He shook his head. “No, angel, but you look beat.” He hadn’t allowed her much sleep last night, and the darkness of exhaustion had settled under her eyes.

She let out a derisive chuckle. “Oh, you’re so sweet.”

Closing the space between them, he cupped her face and rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone. “Don’t get sassy with me.” He pressed into her, leaving a tender kiss on her lips, again and again and again. “How’s your head?”

The elevator pulled to a stop and the doors opened.

“Better than my stomach,” she replied, moving around him to walk into the hall. “I’m starving.”

How could things between them be so simple? Overnight they’d fallen into a relationship with a foundation more solid than anything he’d ever experienced. Now they only had to figure out how to keep it going.

Monogamy would be a major component, for him anyway. He couldn’t be far away from her, knowing that any man could lay claim to her gorgeous body before he finished the Australian tour. Once the remaining concerts were over, he’d be able to spend some time with her, maybe a week or two, before heading back to the US. And by then, it wouldn’t be long until she graduated.

It still wasn’t enough. He couldn’t stand the thought of watching her leave on Tuesday. It made him feel like a pansy-ass to acknowledge it, but being around Gabi made him warm—his chest, his shattered heart, his frigid soul. She brought him back to life, and he wanted to be able to repay her unwavering support.

He waited on the couch for their luggage to be delivered while Gabi freshened up. By the time she came out of the shower, dressed in a mouthwatering pink negligee, his taste buds no longer craved the food that room service had delivered.

“Oh, gosh, that smells good,” she groaned and collapsed into the seat across from him at the dining table.

“Looks good, too,” he murmured, his sight never leaving the feminine curves of her body.

She swiped her tongue over her lips, bringing his cock to life in one simple action.

“You’re insatiable.” She chuckled and began cutting her steak.

“Only for you.”

He forked food into his mouth. He didn’t know and didn’t care what it was, he was too focused on the way Gabi briefly closed her eyes with every mouthful and moaned low in her throat. “This is so good. I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”

He felt like he hadn’t touched her in days.

“You spoil me, Blake Kennedy.”

God, he loved how she said his name—part chastising, part seductive. He’d be happy to bathe her in money and take her to fancy hotels every night of the week if she continued to repay him with affection. The way her face lit up at the mere sight of their suite and the view of Melbourne below was priceless. Alluring. Uplifting. Sexy as hell…and damn, he had it bad.

Focus.

He’d come up with another opportunity where they could spend more time together and wanted to broach the subject before his cock took over. Reaching for her over the dark wooden table, he maneuvered around plates and glasses to squeeze her hand. “I want to go back home with you on Tuesday.”

Her eyes widened and she cleared her throat.

“We already have access to the concert venue,” he continued, “so the guys and I can set up early. I can be with you on Wednesday and catch a late flight back.”

She didn’t respond with the excitement he anticipated. Her throat convulsed with a swallow, and she moved her gaze to stare at their entwined fingers. “Blake… I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll be spending Wednesday with my family, doing the same thing we do every year on the anniversary of Greg’s death.” Her focus slowly lifted to his, her face now pinched.

“I know, and I want to be there for you. I’d like to meet your parents.” Shit. He was putting his heart on the line, and for some reason, he didn’t have a good feeling about the outcome.

She slowly shook her head. “It wouldn’t be the best time to meet them.”

“I know the timing isn’t perfect, but I’d still like to be there. For you.”

She smiled at him, squeezing his fingers. “You’re sweet. But I can’t.”

He waited for her to explain, to give him a reason other than bad timing. Only silence came.

“Why?” He slid his hand away and leaned back in his chair. For years he’d listened to her cry on the anniversary of her brother’s death. Not being able to hold her in his arms and comfort her had torn him apart…and now that he had the opportunity, she was pushing him away.

She focused on his hand as it retreated. “My parents.”

“What about ‘em?” He picked up his knife and fork and started to brutalize his steak.

“Blake,” she pleaded.

The pain in her voice was his undoing, and there was something underneath all that, something she tried to hide from him. He needed to know what it was.

He placed his utensils back down. “What about your parents?”

Gabi winced and looked him straight in the eye. “No matter how I say this, you’re going to take it the wrong way, and I don’t want that.”

Fuck. Now he was beyond worried. His forehead started to break out in a cold sweat. “Tell me.”

She stretched across the table in search of his hand, and he reached up to meet her. Something bad was coming. He could feel it in the warmth that dissipated from his chest.

“My parents will judge you.”

He fought to contain his annoyance. People always judged him. The concept was far from new when it came to his appearance. So why had it never bothered him until now?

He nodded and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.” He patted her hand, then pushed from his chair, no longer hungry. Grabbing his empty glass, he walked to the nearby kitchen and filled it with water, chugging the contents to drown out the hurt.

“Blake.” He heard her chair scrape and her soft footfalls as she approached.

“I said don’t worry about it, Gabi. I get it.”

She moved in behind him and wrapped her hands around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder blade. “They worry about me.”

He got that. Really. He did. He was just sick of living with the knowledge that he wasn’t good enough for her. For not being the guy she deserved. He never would be. Even before this weekend he’d known. And those were his own thoughts. What would it be like when someone else was there to reiterate how unworthy he was?

“I’ve told you before that they’re judgmental. They’ve always wanted to see me with an investment banker or lawyer or something equally pompous.” She continued to talk against his back. “And that’s their problem. I knew sooner or later they’d have to deal with what guy I brought home, because their opinion on what type of man I should be with is far from what I envision. But…” She squeezed him tight and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “You will remind them of Greg. The tattoos. The clothing. The confidence in who you are. They’ll take one look at you and panic.”

He tightened his hold on the glass and gripped the counter with the other hand. Every word ripped him apart. Every reminder of his lack of worth. But like a masochist, he couldn’t tell her to stop.

“And on any other day, I wouldn’t care, Blake. I swear to you, I wouldn’t. I just can’t do it to them on the anniversary of Greg’s death.”

He turned, poised to walk away and gain some space. “I understand. And they have every right to draw those conclusions. I am everything that Greg was. I’m the drug addict from the wrong side of the tracks.” He took a step around her.

She grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling hard. “No, you aren’t.” She reached up on her toes so they were mouth to mouth, her heated breath drifting over his skin. “You like to think you’re the bad guy. But you’re not. You’re a soft teddy bear hiding behind tattoos, leather wrist bands, and dark clothing.” Her fingers found his nape, and he closed his eyes briefly at the sensation. “I love you.”

He wanted to push her away, to place distance between them so he could brood in private. Gabi wouldn’t let him.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my parents,” she continued. “For us both to prove them wrong. Together.” Her lips pressed against his, soft and sweet, making his uncontrollable body react. When she pulled back and made eye contact, her irises were fathomless in the deepest blue. “But Wednesday isn’t the day for that. Let me spend this last anniversary with them, because next year, hopefully, I’ll be spending it alone with you.”

Gabi had a way of turning things around and making him hopeful.

“Come lay down with me,” she continued. “My head hurts and I need to rest for a while.”

He stood still, his heart pounding. He would always feel this way. Inferior. It was tearing him apart, and yet, no matter how much it clawed at his chest, he couldn’t fathom walking away. He’d fight anything to be with her, even if it meant his own insecurities.

She moved around him and tugged at his hand. “Come on, sexy rock god. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you make love to me.”

And as quick as that, his mood shifted from self-deprecation, to “let’s ride.”

* * *

Gabi woke later that night with a start, the bedside clock now reading twelve forty-seven. They’d gone to bed, made love, and must’ve fallen into an exhausted sleep. A loud knock sounded on the suite door, startling her again. She lifted from her stomach onto her elbows and squinted into the darkness.

“Blake?” she whispered. “There’s someone at the door.”

He groaned and rolled onto his back.

“Hey, lover boy, open the fuckin’ door.” The shout rang through the suite and made Blake’s head jerk to attention.

“Damn, Mason,” he growled and sat up, brushing a lazy hand over his face. “Go away!” he yelled.

A masculine chuckle echoed in the distance. “No can do, buddy. We’ve got plans to make and I want to meet the woman with beer flavored nipples.”

Gabi’s stomach dropped. They wanted to meet her? Well at least she assumed they meant her. Not that she had any body part that was beer flavored.

Blake groaned again. “He’s not going to go away.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on her shoulder. “Go back to sleep, angel, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Where are you going?” she asked in a rush. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with the inevitability of meeting a band of famous rock stars. Blake’s arrival had been a surprise, and they’d known each other for years. His friends on the other hand were a completely different matter. They were the highly coveted men of Reckless Beat.

“I’ll go to Mason’s suite so you can sleep. I won’t be long.”

He grabbed his clothes from the chair in the corner and dressed.

“Do you want me to come with you?” She held the sheet to her naked chest.

“No. Mason sounds like he’s in the mood to stir up shit. You don’t wanna be around that.” He strode to the door, holding the frame as he glanced back at her. “You can meet them in the morning.” Without a goodbye, he strode away.

Light entered the bedroom when he opened the suite door and Mason’s voice became louder. “Where’s the hottie?”

“Sleepin’. So keep your fuckin’ voice down.”

She heard claps of flesh on flesh and hoped they were hugging and not punching the crap out of each other.

“I bet I could find a pleasurable way to wake her.” Mason chuckled.

“She’s too much woman for you, Mace. You couldn’t keep up.”

“Fuck that. I’m willing to try.”

“Move outta the way. Let her get back to sleep.”

The light began to fade.

“Goodnight, beer-flavored-nipples-lady.”

Gabi smothered a laugh with her hand.

“You’re a dick,” Blake replied. The suite door closed with a click, leaving her in darkness.

Gabi’s humor faded as she flopped back onto the bed. Her concerns from earlier seeped back in. Maybe she shouldn’t have been honest with Blake about meeting her parents. She could’ve made an excuse for him not to come home with her instead of telling the brutal truth. But that wasn’t her. She didn’t lie. She couldn’t stand people lying to her, so she gave him the same respect he always paid her. Only, she’d hurt him in the process and fallen asleep before she could make sure he was all right.

“I’m such an idiot.” She squeezed her eyes closed.

First thing in the morning she would talk to him—when her head no longer throbbed and she could think straight. Until then, she needed all the beauty sleep she could get if she had to meet the family that was Reckless Beat.