I arrived home to find a smallish party getting underway in the party room at the back of my house. Just the band and some close friends having a jam and a few drinks. They were pretty settled in and things were starting to get loud. They’d probably go all night.

I made the rounds, quickly, but my head wasn’t in it. The only person I really wanted to talk to was nowhere to be seen, so I went looking.

I ran into Maggie in the hall. “Jessa here?”

“Yeah,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me a little. No idea what that look meant. Didn’t wanna know. “Not sure where. Haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Thanks.” I walked past her, ignoring the look she was still giving me. “Good job, yeah? Keep… uh… holding down the fort.” Then I grabbed my travel bag from the foyer and disappeared upstairs.

I poked my head into the other rooms—two guest bedrooms that friends sometimes crashed in, and one that I’d meant to make into some kind of proper gym but never had—then headed to my room at the end of the hall.

No sign of Jessa.

Maybe she’d left?

I dropped my bag and sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling out my phone—but then I saw her. Through the glass door, out on the rooftop patio. She was lying on the outdoor couch in front of the fireplace, where a fire was burning steady.

I couldn’t see her face, but I could see her long legs stretched out and her long hair spilling over the cushion. She was wearing some kind of knit leggings and furry slippers, like something out of a Victoria’s Secret catalogue—winter edition.

I tossed my phone on the bed and went to the door, watching her. I paused there, my hand on the doorknob and my chest tightening, as I suddenly remembered, vividly, the last time I saw her before she left, six-and-a-half years ago.

Right here, in my bedroom.

She was almost finished her first year of college and I was home with the band on a break, part way through the tour. It was the night before we went back out on the road and there was a huge party. It’d been a great night for everyone but me… and maybe Jessa. She’d shown up with a date, for one thing. Some greasy piece of shit who got kicked out by Jude when I caught him dealing, which, at any Dirty party, was un-fucking-welcome; party favors at a Dirty party came courtesy of Piper and the Kings, and anyone with half a brain cell knew as much.

Jessa knew as much, but she wasn’t happy when her little friend got thrown out.

Still, she stayed.

Christy and I had broken up long before I’d gone on tour and I wasn’t with anyone that night. Didn’t want to be. Spent the entire night trying to get Jessa alone, while she just kept trying to get me to talk to this cute little Maggie girl she’d met in college. I couldn’t help grinning a little at that memory. Looking back, it was clear she was trying to get Maggie a foot in the door with the band, and good thing; Maggie had proved ten times her weight in gold over the years. At the time, though, I thought Jessa was trying to hook us up, and I was the least bit interested. She could’ve been trying to introduce me to the entire Victoria’s Secret runway lineup and I wouldn’t have been interested. I just wanted to get Jessa alone.

I’d spent the last hour or so before she left arguing with her in my room. It was the only place we could be alone and I’d dragged her up here when we started fighting. It was the same fight we’d had for months before the tour. I was still angry about it; I just tried to pretend not to be. Because clearly, no matter how I felt about it, it didn’t change a fucking thing.

But that night, when she’d shown up with that piece of shit, it rubbed me the wrong way and then some. I’d had a few drinks and my defenses had slipped. I could no longer pretend it didn’t bother me that we were leaving, again, and she wasn’t coming with us. I knew she was sick of the same fight, and maybe nothing I could ever say or do would make her change her mind, just for the fact that she was sick of the same damn fight. But I wasn’t gonna give it up. I couldn’t.

And that fight ended like they almost always did—with Jessa walking out. But that time… it was the first time it really got through to me. That this wasn’t a temporary thing. That Jessa wanted out—for good.

Out of the band… and out of any kind of possibility of a life with me.

I still couldn’t accept it.

The next day, before we left town, I had a bunch of roses delivered to her. White ones, with a card that said, Call me when you change your mind.

She never did.

The thing was, I always thought she would.

I’d never stopped waiting for that call.

And maybe that was what scared me most of all. That I could lay everything I had at her feet and she could just walk away—and now, I could do it all again. Open the door to her, offer everything I had to give… and she could still walk away and leaving me hanging.

Break my heart all over again.

Because of course, she fucking could.

* * *

When I joined Jessa on the patio, she seemed to be in a good mood. Kind of contemplative and relaxed. And she was definitely happy to see me; she got up and threw herself into my arms and gave me a long, tight hug, before settling back onto the couch with a sort of self-conscious smile.

So that was different.

Better.

Then we talked. Actually talked, without fighting, like we used to do for hours on end when we were kids. And for once, it wasn’t about all the shit that had gone wrong and the distance between us. It was just talk, and it felt so fucking good.

At first, I sat on one of the chairs that faced the couch, leaning forward on my knees to be close to her where she lay. I loved watching her, that sparkle in her eyes when she was happy; that sparkle I hadn’t seen in way too fucking long. The way her lips moved… that beautiful sweet curve of her upper lip and the fullness of the bottom lip, the way the corners twitched when she was amused… the way she showed all her teeth when she laughed.

Gradually we got closer until I was sitting, then lying on the couch right next to her. Both of us on our backs, sides pressed together, just shooting the shit like there was no one else in the world whose two cents mattered.

We lay like that for a long time, just talking.

I hadn’t forgotten about my promise to get my tongue between her legs, but maybe we’d work up to that. I really wasn’t up for anything that was gonna make her cry again.

This peace between us was just too good.

Eventually, she said, “I’m sorry, Brody.”

I took a deep breath.

I’d been waiting to hear those words from her for years, but hearing her say them, so sincerely, I just wanted to let her off the hook. When it came down to it, I didn’t really want her apology; I just wanted her.

“I know,” I said.

“I mean… I’ve screwed up. I keep torturing myself, you know? With all the bad memories… all the times I’ve messed things up.”

“I guess that’s how we’re different,” I said, watching the firelight and shadow play over her features. “Mostly, I keep torturing myself with the good.”

She stared at me for a long time.

“I just… I hope you can forgive me,” she whispered.

“There’s nothing to forgive. I’ve been an asshole myself, Jessa. You know that. You don’t owe me any apology.” I stared back at her in the firelight; so fucking beautiful. The kind of beautiful wars were waged over. “Not if you’re here. With me.”

She didn’t say anything, just nodded.

“I meant what I said, though. At the wedding. You know… in your cabin.” And I said it again, the hardest thing I’d ever had to say to her, really. “It can’t be like it was before.”

Yeah, I wanted her back, more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. But if having her back meant more of the same, more of the past… I totally couldn’t fucking do it.

Not even for her.

I could not have Jessa in my life and not be with her.

“I don’t need it to be like it was before,” she replied softly. “But I do need my friend back.” Then her hand slipped over mine, soft and strong.

“You never lost me,” I told her.

We lay in silence a while, holding hands, my heart drumming in my chest, and then we got talking again.

“Fill me in on what I’ve missed,” she said. “You know, with the band.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” she said, that sparkle in her eyes. “I want to know everything.”

So I filled her in, the best I could, on the highs and lows of six-and-a-half years working, traveling and living with a bunch of talented, egotistical, moody, unpredictable and definitely somewhat insane rock stars. Mostly, the many highs. The biggest parties, the most epic concerts, the amazing places we’d been.

I also told her about all the messes that Maggie, Jude and I had mopped up over the years. Which, in the early days, meant tantrums and trashed hotel rooms (Zane), random disappearances minutes before concerts were scheduled to start (Dylan), trails of broken hearts and death threats from discarded women (Zane and Jesse), ridiculous pranks and practical jokes that ended in nights spent in jail or the hospital (Zane and Dylan), and blow-out fights ending in either tears and a whole lot of broken shit, or laughter (Elle and just about everyone).

Nowadays, the dramas surrounding the band were a little less… full-throttle. Everyone was on the brink of their thirties; Dylan and I were already there, Jesse, Zane and Jude were next, and Elle would soon follow. Ten years working together as a band, longer for Jesse, Zane, Jude and I, and everyone was mellowing out. Thinking about what was next. For the band; for themselves. The days of partying all night long, sleeping all day, banging an endless line of willing groupies and drinking everything alcoholic in sight had lost at least some of its appeal.

I’d seen the way everyone in the band—not just Elle—looked at Jesse with Katie. Katie had changed him, in a good way; Jesse had always been a happy guy, but something had happened this last year.

“She’s brought out the best in him,” I said. “Without even trying, she showed him there was more to life than the one he’d been living, epic as it was.”

“Yeah. I see that.”

“I think the guys are jealous, actually.” I meant Zane and Dylan, but I was jealous of what Jesse and Katie had too. For sure I was.

I kept talking, and Jessa kept listening. She begged for more details when the stories got good. Smacked me on the arm when they got too crazy to believe. Best of all she laughed, that soft, bubbly little giggle, and even better, that big, throaty laugh like she just might choke—the one she’d laughed when we were kids.

Jesus, I’d missed that laugh.

When it was her turn to talk, to share what life had been like for her these past six-and-a-half years, she held back. I knew she did. But I took what she gave me.

Mostly she told me about her travels, some of the most incredible photo shoots she’d done, the places she’d been. And I was glad to hear she’d been happy. At least, she’d definitely had some good times over the years. Maybe I was eighty percent happy and twenty percent jealous… but really, I never wanted her to be unhappy.

I just wished she’d been happy with me.

“Turks and Caicos,” she mused. “That was the most fun ever. They have the bluest water, and it’s just so beautiful.”

“Near the Bahamas, right? I’ve never been.”

“You should go,” she said, but I left that alone.

If Jessa was there in a bikini, not a problem. I’d book my flight this minute.

“Night swimming there is pretty epic… it’s a little warmer than it was up at the wedding.” She grinned at me. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that cold. When I jumped in the water, I thought my heart was going to stop. If Zane didn’t put his arms around me, I think it might’ve. You were smart not to come in. But then again… you always were the smart one.” Her smile faded, replaced by something else… a certain wistfulness. Admiration, maybe. It was the way she often looked at me when we were really young.

Like I could do no wrong.

“The amount of alcohol you drank,” I said, “you’re lucky you didn’t get hypothermia.” That much was true; jumping in that frigid water, drunk, in the dark, was a fairly risky move, and I didn’t like her taking those kinds of risks.

“Lucky me, then, that I had you to make me a fire.”

“I see you got this one started just fine without me.”

“Actually,” she confessed, “Jesse did it.” She bit her plump bottom lip. “Brody… I was drunk that night, but I don’t want you to think… That wasn’t all bullshit just to get you back to my room. I hope you know that. I mean, I knew you were there with Amanda. Even if I wanted to—”

“Uh… hi.”

We looked up to find Maggie standing over us.

She looked carefully from Jessa to me and back. “Am I interrupting anything?” Clearly, she knew she was.

Great fucking timing, Maggs.

“I brought you some bevvies,” she added quickly. She was double-fisting a couple of drinks in round brandy snifters, something that looked and smelled of coffee, with whipped cream on top. “Mexican coffee,” she said. “Kind of. Dylan brought a shit-ton of tequila and Katie was feeling nostalgic for her barista days, so we improvised. It’s got Kahlúa, dark chocolate liqueur, cinnamon and espresso. And, you know, I thought you guys might be a little chilly.”

Which meant she knew we were out here. Which meant she’d snooped in my room and saw us out the window.

Jessa looked happy to accept the coffee, though, so I let it slide.

A bit.

“Jessa,” I asked, my eyes never leaving Maggie as she handed me a coffee, “you cold, sweetheart?”

“I’m good,” Jessa said. “The fire is nice.”

Maggie was staring me down, giving me another one of those narrow-eyed looks, but I stared right back. I knew she was pretty tight with Jessa, and it was cool of her to have her girl’s back. I’d always appreciated Maggie’s attention to detail, when it came to business. As long as it wasn’t my business.

I drew a line at her butting her nose into my personal shit, and she knew it.

“Alright, well… I’ll be down in the party room, making sure Zane doesn’t burn the place down, if you need me,” she told us. Or rather, she told Jessa. “And I’ll make sure no one bothers you guys.”

Then she threw me another narrow look and left.

After she was gone, Jessa and I looked at each other. She smiled. “You better be nice to me,” she said. “Or you’re on Maggie’s shit list. Just saying.”

“Yeah. Well. Hers wouldn’t be the only one.”

“That’s true,” she said, maybe a little too pleased at the thought, and sipped her drink. “Mmm!”

I took a sip of mine. “Jesus, that’s good.”

“Is there anything Maggie can’t do?” she mused.

Yeah. Keep her nose out of my shit.

I set my coffee down on the low table in front of the fire and got serious. “You have a lot of people here who care about you, Jessa.”

She didn’t say anything, just nodded and sipped at her drink, licking whipped cream from the corner of her mouth. There was the tiniest dabb of it on her nose.

“What?” she whispered.

I swiped it off with my fingertip. I showed it to her and she gave a little giggle. She took my hand and pulled my finger closer, and licked it off with a little flick of her tongue. Then her eyes met mine.

When she let my hand go, I laid it on the side of her face, running my thumb over her flushed lip, her cheek. Then I took her coffee and reached to set it on the table. When I turned back to her, she was nibbling on her lip.

“I spoke with Dolly,” she said. “I have a photo shoot in a few days, down in L.A., but I was thinking… maybe I’d come back up afterward for a bit. I don’t want to outstay my welcome at Roni’s, but Dolly says I can stay with her for a while. Zane’s there too, but she has room.”

“That’s nice of her.”

It was. But no fucking way I was letting Jessa go stay with Dolly. She had a nice place, a really fucking nice place that Zane bought for her, but it was even farther from here than Roni’s. I knew Jessa had a shoot; if she was actually considering coming back afterward, though, I was gonna go ahead and hope like fuck it was at least partly because of me. And whatever happened between us on the phone last night.

And whatever was happening right now.

“But you should stay here.” My heartbeat throbbed in my throat and I swallowed thickly. “I’ve got plenty of room, Jessa. And… I want you here.”

She parted her lips to say something, but I leaned over and kissed her instead. Softly. I brushed my lips against hers and stayed there, feeling her breathe. Her breath caught, then deepened. I felt the exact moment when she yielded to me, and I nudged her lips open to stroke my tongue against hers.

She kissed me back, so I went in for more. I kissed her deeper and deeper until I was half on top of her and our bodies were fused together.

“This can be your safe place,” I told her. “I want this to be your safe place. I want to be that for you.” But I was kissing her when I said it.

Yeah, I wanted her to feel safe. I wanted her not to run away.

But I also wanted my dick up inside her. So fucking sue me.

I wanted my tongue in her mouth, my hands on her tits, her long legs wrapped around my back, and I wanted her screaming, sweating, panting my name as she came on my cock, over and again.

I’d settle, though, for a kiss.

It was a fucking start, right?

But then her hand strayed over my chest and caught my nipple through my shirt, her fingernails scratching as she squeezed at me… and pure sex coursed through me, all other thought fleeing my head.

Within seconds I’d peeled off her sweater, yanked her tank top up and bared her tits. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

I looked into her eyes, big and dark, beautiful… aroused.

“Brody…” she breathed.

I ran my hand down her curves. I kissed her neck… the swell of her full, round breasts. Took her hard nipples in my mouth, licking, sucking at the flushed pink tips as she panted softly. I went slowly at first, my heartbeat throbbing through me, urging me to hurry the fuck up as my dick throbbed along, but I went slow. Feeling her heat up under my touch… listening to her breaths quicken, soften, grow more desperate. She had to want this.

Had to.

If she didn’t… I was finally gonna go ahead and just die. Put myself out of my fucking misery.

If she turned my ass down one more time… walked away from me again… I could not fucking take it.

Her furry slippers went next, then her leggings. Gone. She was in her tank top, kind of, and lace panties, and as much as I wanted to paw her like some rabid dog in heat, I was mindful of the cold and covered her with my body.

She didn’t complain.

She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me down to her. I kissed her again, deep, rocking my hips against hers because I couldn’t fucking help it. I tried to keep still, to calm the fuck down and just let her lead a bit, let her come to me so I’d be sure of what she wanted. But what she wanted was pretty fucking clear as she spread her legs and ground her pussy against my dick.

I stirred, restless, fighting the urge to take her, just fuck her right through those lace panties. I was sweating… almost shaking as I held myself back. I’d never been so crazed with desire.

At least… not since she’d been in my bed.

Yeah. We kept this up, I was about thirty seconds from coming in my pants like a fucking kid. Like I’d come for her when I was twenty-two and she was seventeen, rolling around in my bed, in secret, in the middle of the night. Just from kissing her, I’d come; barely even any tongue.

Only that time I was fully dressed, and I didn’t tell her I’d blown my load; I was too fucking afraid I’d scare her off. Lame, right?

And here I was, thirty, messing around with her again, in secret, and she had me ready to explode… although this time, she was starting to undo my jeans.

“Brody,” she gasped against my mouth. “I want to make you come…”

I drew back, away from her seeking hands. If she took my dick out, it was all over.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You first.” I kissed her bare stomach, moving down her body. “I wanna taste you.”

I looked up at her face as I reached her panties. She looked at me like she’d never wanted anything more; like she was seconds from going off in an explosion of lust whether I touched her or not.

She looked like I felt.

My balls pulled up tight as I smoothed her lace panties down over her hips and I saw her for the first time. Her pussy… beautiful, just like the rest of her. She wriggled in anticipation as I breathed on her. My tongue found her sweetness, slick and wet, delicate, and I groaned involuntarily as I swiped up, taking my first taste of her pink flesh.

“You go off,” I told her, my eyes finding hers again, “I’m right behind you.”

“Brody… yeah…” she sighed, and I dove in deeper, finding her opening, hot and wet and waiting for me. I tasted her, inside, out, and as I licked my way up to her clit, nudging at the firmness under her softness, she went off. She cried out, grabbing at my hair in fistfuls, holding me there as I took her in my mouth.

I sucked on her, hard, then caressed her gently, watching her reactions… and as she came—arching her back and gasping… then came crashing down, relaxing onto the couch—I could feel the walls falling down, shattering around us. Something opened in her as she looked at me.

She bucked a little as I licked her again, and I felt her soften… her big brown eyes watching me.

“Come here,” she said, breathing soft and fast.

I crawled up over her; her head was thrown back on the cushion, her long hair fanned out around her, and she was looking at me that way she did; the way she used to long ago. The way no other woman had ever looked at me… like I was the only man who’d ever mattered.

Her man.

She reached down, grabbing the length of my cock in my jeans and she squeezed, hard, rubbing up and down.

“Jessa… fuck, I’m too close,” I managed to say as we kissed in a desperate, clumsy frenzy. She fumbled with me, with my fly, which just made my dick jerk, tightening… “Fuck… I can’t even…” But she got my jeans open and clawed my underwear aside.

I blew on her stomach as she caressed me, gently, driving me fucking insane, and she writhed beneath me as I did it like she couldn’t get enough.

“Ah… shit.” The breath hissed out between my teeth as she kept stroking me. I leaned down over her on my elbows, wanting to collapse, but not knowing how she’d feel about me smushing my spunk between us. Then she caught my mouth with hers, slipped her tongue between my lips, and we were making out like a couple of kids in the dark, again, while everyone else partied.

Like we’d picked up right where we left off.

I ran my hand down and rubbed my come into her belly. She moaned into our kiss like she liked it, so I smeared it down between her legs… letting my wet fingers slip right up inside her as she lifted her hips to meet me. I didn’t plan to do it and I didn’t think about what I was doing. It just happened as my body responded to her sweet softness, drawn in by her heat and need.

“Give it to me,” she whispered, riding my fingers. “All of it.” She squeezed my cock in her hand and whispered, “I want all of you.”

I was still half-hard, so I gave it to her as she spread her thighs around me. Jesus… so fucking tight.

Hot. Sweet. Wet.

My pulse pounded in my brain and somewhere in the back of my mind the thought of a condom flitted by. Then Jessa grabbed my ass, pulling me deeper, and the thought was gone—and I did not care. I kissed her… rocking into her a few times until she’d taken me; all of me. Then I lay still, my cock throbbing, squeezed inside her tight, slick flesh, catching my breath.

“Brody… that was….”

“Don’t say it, princess,” I told her, holding her hips down and grinding into her. “Don’t say it like it’s over…” I ground into her a few more times, just savoring the feel of her as my cock perked back up, and then I got serious, fucking her like I’d always wanted to do.

Jesus Christ… I was fucking Jessa.

When she started undulating beneath me, wanting more, I blew out a breath.

“Sweetheart… Jessa… fuck me…”

I’d never felt anything like this before. Not even close to this. Wanting her… wanting more of her, faster and harder and just plain more than my body could keep up.

Her body could, though, her urgency building beneath me as she moved.

“I know you just came and you’re probably kind of… um… sensitive,” she panted beneath me, her hips swiveling against me as she rode me from beneath, “but is it wrong… if I just use your super-hot… hard body… to get off again?”

“Please,” I said, “use me.”

She laughed her beautiful laugh and I kissed her, deep, claiming her mouth with my tongue as we fucked, slow and wet. At some point I noticed it was starting to rain, just a misting drizzle, typical for this time of year. It was fucking cold actually, but the fire was still warm, almost hot on my back, and the heat between us… we were both sweating.

Wasn’t long before I was so lost in her that I had no idea which way was up. Literally. Somehow, she’d gotten me on my back. She was riding me like she couldn’t get enough, fast and hard… then slow, grinding against me and wiggling around, savoring the feel of our bodies connected for the first time.

Then there was no more slow. It was all fast, hungry thrusts as her body claimed mine, over and over, and I just held on for the ride, watching her, the pleasure building fast—my chest burning in a way it never had when I’d been with any other woman.

For once, I didn’t close my eyes, imagining I was with someone else.

Her.

It was always her.

“Brody…” Jessa’s hands gripped my neck as she rode me, her nails digging into me. “Brody… God, I missed you…” Tears shone in her brown eyes.

“You don’t have to miss me anymore.” I held her face in my hands, our eyes locked together. “I’m here,” I told her, fucking breathless. “Just take it, sweetheart… ”

I was stiff by now, every muscle in my body locked up tight, every nerve tuned into her movements as her body slid against mine. That strange burning in my chest coiling tight, squeezing out all the air.

I was vaguely aware that the band had stopped jamming. Zeppelin was cranked through the surround sound system, and as “Babe, I’m Gonna Leave You” climaxed, pumping through the roof beneath us, Jessa fucked the living hell right out of me.

And yeah, I wanted her to take what she needed, but Christ… I was only fucking human. And I’d wanted this, wanted her like this, for an inhumanly long time.

I grabbed her neck and pulled her down to me. “You’ve got about five seconds,” I panted into her ear, gripping her hip with my other hand, “to tell me to pull out.”

“Don’t pull out,” she panted back.

Her eyes met mine, and the thought came into my head: What if I knocked her up?

And it turned me on.

I was gonna shoot. Immediately.

She reached around behind herself and rubbed me off, her hand and her pussy strangling me as my orgasm hit, hot and fast… mind-blowing. I grabbed her tits, squeezing as I blew into her, molten heat jetting from my body as waves of pure ecstasy rocked through me. I pretty much left the planet for a few seconds…

It was Jessa’s soft scream that brought me back to Earth.

She was coming on my cock, and all I could do was watch in breathless awe as tears rolled down her face.

“Oh, God,” she gasped, “I’ve never…” She was still riding me, milking out every last drop with her tight pussy as I groaned beneath her, utterly fucking useless. Her hair was all damp with misting rain and sweat and sticking to her neck, her chest.

Then she collapsed on top of me, her warm, wet body slick against mine. I locked my arms around her, panting, but I wasn’t coming down.

I may never come down again.

Instead, my heart was gonna explode, because I had Jessa in my arms, my cock was still inside her, and I was never letting her go. She was mine.

At least, according to me. And my cock.

I’d finally fucked her. She’d fucked me, and there was no coming back from that. And yeah, in that moment, I knew it.

I was fucking done for.