Keep

It was gloomy—it completely matched my mood.

On the outside, life was perfect, I was going to start touring again, the album was my best yet.

I’d semi-conquered death.

And the anxiety was slowly dissipating along with the need to have a pocket full of marshmallows all hours of the day.

But she was missing.

The balance was off.

And I hated it.

I stomped into the resort and nearly bolted when a group of girls turned and started screaming all at once.

“Shit,” I muttered pasting a smile on my face as they charged toward me cell phones raised.

The all-familiar sense of panic washed over me.

But I had no rescuer. No Fallon. No bodyguard.

With shaking hands, I signed autographs, took selfies until my smile started to twitch, and finally, stumbled down the hall, palms sweaty, ever present headache still pounding.

Another awesome side effect.

Headaches, though the doctor said it should only last a few weeks.

Focus, Zane. I went to the penthouse floor and slowly made my way down the hall, nearly colliding with one of the maid carts.

Fallon let out a little squeak.

And I froze, like time had suddenly stopped in that moment, leaving only the two of us in the universe. Damn, she was so pretty.

Even in her black pants and black Seaside resort shirt.

A piece of hair stuck to her face.

She swallowed, “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“Yeah well.” I licked my lips. “I was in stealth mode.”

She smirked and pointed to my lipstick stained cheek. “I take it the bachelorette party downstairs discovered you?”

“Warn a man next time.” I rubbed off the offensive pink lipstick and stared at her mouth.

“Eh, I think I like that you suffered at the hands of the screamers.” She blushed and looked away.

“Screamers, hmm?”

“So…” She sighed and took a step back. “Do you need me to let you into your room?”

“Holy shit, do you have a master key? Like Lord of the Rings?”

“Just call me Gollum.” She offered a weak laugh and walked with me down the hall.

Her hands were shaking as she grabbed a key card and tapped it against the sensor.

She was trying to be normal.

It wasn’t working.

The door opened.

“Are you okay?” I whispered, reaching for her hand.

“No.” She looked up at me.

“You’re not wearing glasses.”

“Contacts from now on.” She cleared her throat. “I haven’t cleaned the room yet. The resort was under strict instructions not to disturb your creative process, so nobody has been in here for over ten days.”

“Hmm,” I stepped into the penthouse and was hit with a burst of cold air as the curtains framing the floor-to-ceiling windows whipped wildly in the air.

When I turned around, Fallon’s eyes were fixed on the other side of the room. The door was open, light illuminated from the moon casting a glow across the sheets.

Her breath caught.

All of them hanging from the bed, draped across the floor.

And a girl’s dress.

A short dress.

A pretty dress.

Slowly, I took a few steps toward the bedroom, my brain buzzing like the universe was trying to tell me something.

The lights above flickered and then everything went completely black.

Everything but the white sheets.

The white sheets and the windblown curtains.

“I’m going to keep you.” Fallon had whispered as I rocked into her.

“I’ve always wanted to be kept.” I fired back as our bodies joined over and over again.

I stumbled backwards.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered.

“Tell me everything.” She grabbed my hand. “Let me love you.”

Broken.

I broke.

She broke me.

And didn’t run away.

She saw me at my worst.

And held my hand.

When I showed her my demons.

She didn’t scream.

She cried on my behalf.

And when I needed someone the most—when I was searching for a home—she offered me her heart.

I collapsed to my knees.

“Zane!” Fallon screamed my name, footsteps sounded and then her arms were wrapped around me. “Is it your head? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

Breath whooshed out of my tightened chest as I glanced up at her in wonder. “I love you.”

“Wh-what?” Her eyes pleaded. “What did you say?”

“I. Love. You.” I tugged her against my body and kissed her with every pent-up memory, every emotion, pouring into her not just my heart and soul, but the history of us, of what we shared, I gave her everything in that kiss.

My apology.

My life.

My world.

Her arms wrapped around me.

“No time,” I growled tearing at her maid uniform, greedy to touch her. She’d been lost to me.

Not anymore.

Already I’d wasted ten days.

Never again.

“I love you.” I said it again and again as I jerked her shirt over her head. Her shoes went flying, I pulled away every inch of clothing.

I didn’t ask to love her.

I just did.

I slammed into her, filling her, completing me, and stopped as time around us seemed to freeze right along with us.

“I remember everything,” I whispered, and with each stroke, I confessed.

“Your heart.” I kissed her neck. “Your willingness to help me.” I pulled out then slowly inched myself back in as she cried out, tears running down her face. “Your laugh. The way you live life with everything you have.” I wasn’t going to last long. I was already on sensory overload. More tears filled her eyes and flowed over her cheeks as I picked up my pace, my hands digging into her hair, her mouth clawing at my shoulder as she screamed my name.