The morning light looks very different from Dean’s bed.

We spent the past twelve hours making up, and coming together, in more ways, and positions, than one. Words were whispered, bodies touched, skin tasted. We would pass out for an hour or two, only to wake up and start all over, worshipping each other in some kind of intimate, middle of the night ceremony that only the two of us knew about.

Pushing all doubts and past bad blood out of my brain, I consciously made the decision to see where this would go. Trying to deny that I still loved Dean was hopeless and futile, and also childish. It was time to grow up, time to face the fear, and the facts.

And the fact was, I still had the same feelings for Dean that I’d been trying to bury since I was twenty. In light of the new truths he’d revealed, and everything we’d been through in the months since I’d been here, I had to give in. And give this relationship a real shot.

“How does pancakes on the beach sound?” Dean’s warm stubble scratched my back as he nuzzled into me like an animal.

“Perfection, is what it sounds like.” I cleared my throat, sleep still groggy in my eyes.

“I can cook them.” He sounds proud of himself.

“That would require us getting out of this bed, and right now, I simply don’t have the energy to.” I roll over as I say it, and have to promptly stop my heart from beating out of my throat.

I don’t think there has ever been a more gorgeous sight in the entire world. A naked Dean Jacobs, all muscles and tattoos and sleep-tousled messy blond hair. I’m not sure if I want to stare for hours, or lick him from head to toe. The shadow of hair on his jaw has grown thicker in the last couple of days, and I want to nibble it from ear to ear.

Moving into his arms, I settle for rubbing my hands up and down his smooth skin instead. His cock, miraculously still revving for action even after last night, twitches where it’s pressed to my hip.

But something nags me, something that we haven’t spoken about in all the time I’ve been here. And if we’re getting everything out in the open, this is something that we have to address sooner or later.

“Can I ask you a question that may seem weird, seeing as I’m lying naked in your arms?” I trace the patterns of ink on his chest.

“Believe me, there is nothing weird about you lying naked in my arms.” Dean’s hair is sleep and sex tousled, and I have a hard time keeping my train of thought.

I sigh, knowing I might just break the moment right now. “How are you feeling about the trial?”

Those blue eyes move off of directly gazing at me, and I know I’ve made him uncomfortable. But he doesn’t move away from me. “Honestly, I think I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about it. Any time I let it in, it’s like this black sludge coating my mind, and the back of my throat. I don’t know why she’s doing this, babe.”

His nickname for me is sincere, and my heart skips like a record in my chest. “Do you think she really believes … it?”

I can’t bring myself to associate the word rape with Dean.

He shrugs, wrapping his legs around mine, the soft hair tickling my skin. “No … there is no way she does. It’s for publicity, or maybe at first it was to keep me with her. Sure, our relationship, if you could even call it that, had turmoil, but never like that. I would never … you know I would never hurt any woman. It makes me sick that that word is being paired with my name.”

It made me sick too. Although I didn’t really see as many stories about it anymore, our plan had worked in overshadowing them with media on our engagement, it was always floating over us like a black omen.

“I know you wouldn’t, you know I never would have agreed to come out here if I did think you could do something like that. I just don’t understand the mentality of some people. How could you accuse a good man of something so heinous?”

Just thinking about her makes me want to stick nails into her eyes, but I contain myself.

Dean absentmindedly runs his fingers over my back, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “Some people just want that spotlight so badly, they’re willing to do or say anything for it. I’ll admit, when I first ‘made’ it, that rush was heady. Chasing it was my drug, how many more dollars could I make? How many more fans could I get? After a while, for most people, that fades. You hone your craft, chase other dreams. But for some others, the fame is their lifeblood. They will step on anyone, suck the life out of anyone, to get it. And that’s what Hannah is doing. She will lie, cheat and ruin me, all because I cut her out of the fame she was getting when we were together. I can’t say I don’t understand her, because I do. But I sure as hell would never do that.”

An idea dawns in my head. “That’s why you never told anyone who I was. All of those years, you never said my name in association with the songs.”

His eyes become level with mine, those rough hands coming up to my cheeks. “Because I chose this world, you didn’t. You may have been the very factor that drove me to make music, but it didn’t mean you wanted to be thrust into the public. Part of me felt so guilty for even writing lyrics about our love story, but it was all real for me. I wasn’t pimping our relationship out for money, I was bleeding my heart dry.”

I lay my hand on his chest, loving the way I can feel his heart beat. “I understand that now. I didn’t … for a long time. But I do now. I think, someday, I’ll have to sit down and listen to all of them.”

“Have you never listened?” His mouth forms a small smile.

I shake my head sheepishly. “Well, the early stuff. But after … I could never bring myself to hear your voice.”

Dean looks pained for a second, but his eyebrow quirks up. “What, my voice would get you too wet?”

I feel his hand snake down my thigh, gently parting my thighs. Sighing, I don’t stop him, instead inhaling softly when those skilled fingers find my core.

“You’re insatiable, babe.” I breathe it out, loving the taste of that nickname on my tongue.

“I have seven years to make up for.”

Those are the last words either of us says before Dean rolls over onto me, pinning me to the bed for the nth time in the last twelve hours.