After politely declining Brooks’ third offer for lunch, I get into the zone and manage to knock out the rest of my data entry and research for this project. The only thing I have left is to scan the necessary documents into a shared file and chat with Mr. Langston to let him know what the next couple of weeks will look like. I stop by his administrative assistant’s desk to check and see what the president of the company’s availability is for the afternoon.

“Mr. Langston is in a meeting until two this afternoon. We could squeeze you in for maybe fifteen minutes as soon as he finishes up with that. Will that work for you, Miss George?”

Bless Jan’s heart, she has been nothing but helpful, even running interference with the younger Langston on occasion.

“That would be perfect. Thank you, Jan. I’ll be in the copy room if something changes.” I gather up the file folders off her desk where I rested them for a few blissful seconds and turn for the hallway.

“Miss George, would it help if I sent one of the interns down to assist you with that? Might allow you some time to get out and enjoy the city this afternoon,” she says with a secret smile.

Again, Jan is good people.

“That would be fantastic. Thank you.”

Down in the copy center, I claim a worktable at the end of the room between two enormous machines and lay out the folders I organized this week. When the intern walks in, all eager for something that doesn’t involve fetching coffee, I get her set up, and we are able to scan and file all the documents in a shared folder, so everyone has access, and it all makes sense, as opposed to the batshit crazy boxes of papers I had to wade through.

We finish and box the originals, leaving me enough time to polish and print some preliminary information for Mr. Langston. His time is valuable, and while I want to make the most of the few minutes I have with him, I’m truly motivated by the thought of getting out of here and spending time with Gavin before he has to leave.

As the cab lurches through city traffic, I tap a quick message to Kate, telling her that I’ll be home to Beekman Hills late tonight. Gavin sent me an address on the Lower East Side and told me to text him when I arrived.

The building is an unimpressive brick structure in an area that is questionable at best. Almost as soon as my text is sent, a steel door opens, and Gavin pops out, all broad smile and tangled messy hair piled high on his head.

“Come in quick. It’s fucking cold out here,” he says, pulling me through the door. He wraps his arms around me, squeezing me to the wide expanse of his chest. “I’m glad you’re here. You ready to meet the rest of the guys?” He presses a kiss to the top of my head and releases me, rubbing his hands on his thighs, looking around the small vestibule before meeting my gaze.

“Oh my God, are you nervous? Is this a bad time? Maybe … I’ll just go. I can meet you later when you’re done with everything here.” I don’t want to intrude on their work.

“Fuck yes, I’m nervous,” he mumbles.

I take a step back toward the door before Gavin latches on to my hand.

“You’ve heard a lot of shit about Kane, seen him in action, but I don’t ever know what’s going to come out of his mouth. Especially after today.” Gav shifts, pulling me toward him. He takes my messenger bag and leads me down a narrow hallway. “Just don’t judge me, okay? I mean, you will, but … I don’t know. This is us.” We pause outside a door, music and laughter drifting out. “Ready?”

He nods, more to himself than to acknowledge my agreement, and sucks in a huge, bracing breath. Then, he opens the door to complete and utter poetic chaos. I look around a small room crowded with couches, people, and more instruments than is reasonable to even jam in there. Time stops, the noise recedes, and one by one, bodies still.

Nate is on the far side of the room and smiles. Lifting his bass over his head, he calls out, “Hey, Gracyn. Good to see you.”

My response is lost in the flurry of movement. I mean, I know it’s Kane. I’ve seen him from afar, but up close, like this, is an entirely different experience. Personality and confidence swirl around him in a heady cloud of pheromones.

“This is she?” He slowly stalks around me, assessing.

No one says a word. Gavin bites his lower lip and takes a step back.

“Well, well, well, dahlin’, aren’t you just something special?” he drawls, thickening some kind of Southern accent. Sex and charm are weapons he wields like he’s got a black belt in them.

There’s only one way to effectively deal with this kind of bravado. Slowly, I unbutton my coat and slide it down, letting it pool on the floor behind me. Button by button, I undo my suit jacket, dropping that as well. Standing in the midst of four beautiful men, in a black skirt, pale teal silk tank top, and my deep purple pumps, I take my turn in walking a circle around Kane, pausing behind him with a, “Hmm,” humming from my lips. Back in front of him, I step in, crowding him just a bit, and pull the pins from my hair, shaking the golden waves until they fall free around my shoulders. “I’ve heard all about you,” I tell him, winking at Gavin when Kane briefly looks down, shifting closer still.

“Have you? Only good things I’m sure.” His liquid voice flows, pooling and swirling around us.

“I have,” I purr, running a finger down his arm. “But, as far as those good things are concerned”—I step in close, pushing up on him—“I like my men with a little more … bulk. KnowwhatImean? I’d rather share my hair bands than my makeup.” I make sure to pop the P and tussle his perfectly coifed blue-black hair, stiff with product, before I make a production of licking my finger. I swipe it under his eye, adding, “Hold still, darling. You’ve got some eyeliner smudged right here.”

And the guys bust out laughing, Kane put firmly in his place.

As Nate passes to grab beer out of the small fridge in the corner, he smacks Kane on the shoulder and plants a kiss on my cheek, thanking me. “This is a first, you know. He’s never this quiet … and I mean, never.”

The dark-haired drummer stands from his kit, bright green eyes sparkling as he approaches, hand outstretched. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Ian Scott.” His strong hands warmly grip mine, swirls of ink spilling down his arms, illustrating what has to be the story of his life. Roses and thorns twist wildly with musical notes and lyrics, creating a stunning display. “Glad you’re able to hang with us for a little this afternoon.” For a man who makes a lot of noise, slamming on drums, he’s decidedly quiet and gentle, treating me almost like a delicate flower.

Gavin hands me a beer and scoops my coat and jacket up, setting them over the arm of a leather chair in the corner. “We need to finish running through a few things before we can head out. Is that all right with you? We can do whatever you want after. I have a late flight out, so we’ve got time to play with.”

“Sounds good. Take your time,” I say, curling myself into the chair to watch.

Gavin hands me a plastic tub and a spoon. “My sister’s tiramisu, if you’re hungry. You liked that the other night, yeah?”

My eyes fall shut as I glide the spoonful of goodness between my lips and moan, “This is so good. Thank you.”

Kane sighs and declares, “I’m not sure I can perform today. First, she knocks me on my ass, and then you give her the last of the good stuff from Sasha.” He pouts—like, legit pouts—at me, looking adorable. “I don’t feel loved—like, at all.”

Can’t lie; I like having her here while we practice. I like the way she fits in with the guys. The way she handled Kane, it was epic. Perfect. And the way her eyes light up when we launch into “One,” the lyrics taking root in her as the music swells and comes together, speaks to my soul.

God have mercy, I have my one last night. I have my chance to do this right, to see where this goes.

After a couple of hours of work, bullshit, and fucking around with the band, we pack our gear up for Rand’s guy to take to the airport.

I stalk over to Gracyn and crouch down in front of her. She scoots forward and places her palm on the side of my neck, her thumb sliding down my Adam’s apple, pressing into the notch of bone at the center of my clavicle.

My cock twitches when she asks, “Are we ready to go?”

Am I fucking ever.

I stand, pulling her up with me, until we’re pressed together from knee to hip to chest, and I raise my eyebrow at her. There’s no way she’s not feeling just how fucking ready I am.

For her.

For this.

For anything but saying good-bye.

“Let’s get out of here,” I murmur, burrowing my face in her neck, kissing just below her ear.

I don’t give a passing thought to who’s here until Kane starts moaning like he’s about to come—and sadly, I do know what that sounds like.

Our jackets, my beanie, and her messenger bag all firmly in place, I grab Gracyn’s hand and tug her out of the studio. “See y’all in LA.”

They’re all leaving for the airport from here, but I had Rand push my flight back to the last one of the day, so I can spend every last minute with Gracyn. If it were one of the guys, I’d totally call them saps or pussies and relentlessly ride them about it. But this is me. This is Gracyn, and I’m not ready to let her go yet.

Our cab drops us off at the back of the Renaissance, and I almost feel bad for dragging her through the bowels of the building to the service elevator. Almost but not really.

As soon as the doors slide shut behind us, I have her backed into the corner of the lift and kiss her fucking stupid. I can’t get enough of her. “I don’t want to leave.” My voice is low and gravelly. “Need more time. Tell me this isn’t the end, G. Tell me we’ll try to make this shit work. See where it goes.” The thought of this being the end makes my skin hurt.

She sighs as I slide her skirt up until it’s bunched high on her thighs.

She gasps as I ease her panties to the side, rubbing my finger along her wet pussy.

She moans as I lower down to my knees in front of her and suck her clit between my lips.

And the breathy, “Yes,” that escapes her lips as I plunge my tongue into her slick heat is the only answer I want to hear. All the other yeses that spill from her lips as her muscles spasm are just fucking icing on the cake.