It takes Pete an hour and a half to teach me the three minute song. By the end, I can play the entire thing by myself.

He pushes me off his lap and directs me to turn. His lips curl into a smile. "Play for me."

God, that smile. It makes me warm all over. Okay. I can do this.

I sling the instrument's strap over my shoulder. Pete's eyes are locked on mine. His gaze makes me blush.

My eyelids press together. I position my hands on the bass and I play. Damn, that's loud. The deep, rich sound flows through the room. I'm the one making that noise.

I'm the one playing the song.

It's a rush. I try to let my fingers find their memory. I stumble, but I pick it back up. I make through all three minutes of the song. Okay, more like five minutes at the speed I'm playing, but I still feel victorious.

My eyes connect with his. He's beaming.

"Was I okay?" I ask.

He nods and pushes himself to his feet. "Amazing." He presses his lips to mine then takes the instrument and sets it back in its stand. "Did you feel it?"

I nod. "I can see why you're addicted."

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer. His palm presses against the back of my neck, his touch soft and tender.

This is so much more than sex.

My eyelids press together as he pulls me into a kiss. Mmm. I part my lips to make way for his tongue. I bring my hands to his waist and I hold his body against mine.

When the kiss breaks, I'm floating.

He looks down at me. "You hungry?"

Now that he mentions it, yeah. "Starving. What time is it?"

He turns to look at his alarm clock. "Well past lunch. You done with your reading?"

"Someone distracted me."

"You shouldn't come in here wearing those." He taps my glasses. "Can't help myself."

"You like my glasses that much?"

"Want you to wear them next time you suck my cock."

My sex clenches. "What were we talking about?"

He smiles. "I'll make lunch. Finish your reading."

Oh food. Yes, I should eat food. My mind refuses to switch gears. He wants me to wear my glasses the next time I suck him off. He was thinking about that.

It's so hot in here.

I shake my head. Come on, Jess, focus. I only barely manage to look him in the eyes. "You'll cook?"

"Use my credit card. You prefer Thai or Indian?"

"Surprise me." I don't want to untangle our bodies, so I stay pressed against him.

"Jess."

"Yeah?"

"You still have to read?"

"About an hour's worth, yeah."

"Then you should go." He slides his hands to my hips. "If you're here in one minute, I'm going to throw you on the bed and have my way with you."

"You're not making your case well."

He smiles. "I'm not the future lawyer." He presses his lips to mine. "School's important to you."

Damn, he's right.

"Jess, you have ten seconds."

"Give me an hour." I step into the hallway before I get any ideas about prioritizing him over school.

* * *

I'm an hour into my reading when Pete knocks on my door with the announcement that lunch is ready.

It smells amazing downstairs. Red curry paste, ginger, garlic, and shrimp waft into the air. Thai again. I take a seat at the table and pile my plate with a heaping scoop of each of three dishes—spicy chili green beans, red curry shrimp, and basil eggplant.

Two of the dishes are all vegetables.

He ordered what I like.

My heart melts. I'm not used to people taking care of me.

He pours two glasses of ice water and slides into the seat next to mine. His eyes meet mine as he motions to my drink. "Excited about school?"

I nod. "A little scared. It's already hard, all the reading I have to do."

"You'll ace it."

"How do you know?"

"You don't half ass things." He scoops rice onto his plate then tops it with half the curry shrimp. "We have a corporate gig Thursday in Chicago. Gonna miss your first day. It's a last minute thing."

I chew and swallow a slice of eggplant. It tastes of oil, lime, and Thai basil. "Was that part of you making sure everything is taken care of?"

He nods.

"I understand. This kind of thing must happen all that time."

"Yeah. Thought I was used to it but I'm pissed I can't celebrate with you." His gaze goes to his plate then goes back to me. "I'll make it up to you. Do owe you one from yesterday."

There's something I can't place in his expression, a frustration. He shakes his head and it's gone.

That's better. But there's still something off about his posture. A stiffness to his shoulders.

I don't like it. I want him here, with me, now.

"How about, after lunch, you start making it up to me?" I ask.

His lips curl into a smile. "Done."

* * *

It's before dawn on my first day when Pete stops by my room to wish me luck. He climbs into my bed, pulls me into a hug, and presses his lips to my forehead. It occurs to me that we could be sleeping in the same bed then I fall back asleep.

When I wake, he's gone, already off to his corporate gig.

I let myself get caught up in fantasies of a real adult life, here, with Pete, as I get ready and drive to school.

Once I'm on campus, my other thoughts drift away. The day passes in a breeze—two classes, lunch at a place off campus, two more classes, checking out articles in the library, the drive home. I love every second of it, even though it leaves me without a moment to think.

There's a lush bouquet of roses on the kitchen table.

Dinner's in the fridge. I'll call at ten. Check your room. And mine.

I'm proud of you.

- Pete

Sure enough, there's a container of takeout in the fridge. Thai food. Chicken and vegetable curry with brown rice. I heat it up in the microwave and eat in the backyard. It's a new habit of mine—dining poolside, under the moon and stars.

I'm on a cloud as I clean up and make my way upstairs. I'm a law student and Pete bought me flowers and dinner.

And there's a wrapped present on my bed.

I tear open the card.

I'd rather watch these with you but I'll forgive you if you can't wait. I have something special reserved for tomorrow night.

I tear the paper off. It's the four Hunger Games movies.

My heart melts.

There's a post it note on the back of one of the movies.

Check my room.

It takes great effort to push myself off my bed, turn the knob, pull open the door, and step inside Pete's room.

There's a gift bag on his bed. It's crimson red with gold paper. USC colors. It's in my school's colors.

I toss the tissue paper on the ground and reach into the bag. My fingers brush something soft. Fabric. But nothing I normally wear.

It's a lace bra and panty set in a soft shade of pastel pink.

I change and go right to the mirror in my bathroom. Checking myself out in my underwear is not part of my usual routine. But, in this gift from him, I feel beautiful and sexy.

He always makes me feel like I'm the sexiest woman in the universe.

Like I'm light enough to float.

My ringtone bounces off the walls. I practically jump to find my phone. There it is on my desk. Incoming call from Pete Steele. Thank God.

I answer and bring the device to my ear. "Hey."

"Hey." His voice is deep and even.

"You bought me all of the Hunger Games movies."

"I did."

"I warned you about doing that." I fall back on my bed, my head resting comfortably on a soft pillow. "I'm going to fall in love with you if you keep it up."

"Thought that was talking Hunger Games."

"No. Anything Hunger Games." I run my fingertips over my comforter. It does nothing to ground me. I'm still floating.

"How was your first day?"

I launch into the longest story in the history of the world. I include every boring detail, from the honey mustard dressing on my salad bar lunch to the last names of my new professors. Pete listens with rapt attention the entire time.

His voice is light. Happy. "Fuck, wish I was there. Bet you're beaming."

"I am. I miss you." That's too much too fast, but it can't bring me down from my cloud. "This would be our life if we really were boyfriend/girlfriend, huh?"

"Close to it."

"How much of the year are you on the road?" I ask.

"About a third. Sometimes more."

"That's not so bad." Not that I'm entertaining a million ideas about being with him forever.

"You change your mind about picking up a bass?"

"No, I just mean, if we—"

"I know."

"Was it hard, with your ex, being away?"

"She went to school in New York. Columbia. Didn't make much of a difference whether I was touring or staying home."

"Oh."

He lowers his voice. "Gotta tell you something before I ask what you're wearing."

My cheeks flush. I like where this is going. "What's that?"

"I had an issue today. Took care of it. But it means you're gonna see something tomorrow that's gonna surprise you."

"You're speaking in riddles."

He chuckles. "Guess I am."

"Is it bad?"

"It's taken care of." He clears his throat. "Want you to know that I wasn't under duress. I weighed my options, thought about the potential consequences, and made my decision."

I'm not coming close to following. "What?"

"It's not a big deal. You'll see tomorrow."

"Promise it's nothing bad and I'll drop it until tomorrow."

"I promise."

"We're not allowed to lie to each other."

"I know."

I trust him. If he says it's okay, I believe him. "Then we can go on to the next part."

"Which part is that?" His voice is light, teasing.

I take a deep breath. I'm sexy, confident, in control. "Phone sex. How does it work?"

He laughs. "I love that." He imitated my confident voice. "We're having phone sex." Then he feigns cluelessness. "How does it work?"

"Enough teasing, Steele. I demand an explanation."

"Way I like to do it, is I describe what I want to do to you while we both get off."

"Yes. Let's do that. How do we start?"

"What are you wearing?"

"That lingerie you bought me. It's gorgeous."

He groans.

"You want a picture?"

"No." There's frustration in his voice. When he exhales, it's gone. "It'll be better if I wait till I can see you tomorrow."

I'm not sure I believe him.

"Fuck. I'm already hard thinking about it." His sigh is heavy with desire. "Put the phone on speaker."

Thoughts flee from my brain at an alarming rate. I put the phone on speaker. "Done. What are you wearing?"

"T-shirt and boxers."

Mmm. "What color?"

"Black."

"Damn, I like you in black."

"I know. Take off your bra."

I reach behind my back to unhook the bra and peel if off my shoulders. There's something sexy about stripping for him, even if he can't see me.

"You don't have to try with this, Jess. Just let the words wash over you."

"Okay." I run my fingertips over my stomach. I'm already flushed and wanting, knowing he's waiting to listen to me. "Take off your t-shirt."

There's a sound on his side of the phone. Then his breath is heavy in my ears.

"Gone," he says. "How do you want me?"

For a second, I feel shy. I push it away. "In the bed. With me. On top of me."

"I'm there. I take your hands and bring them to my hips. You can feel my cock over my boxers. I'm that hard just thinking of you. You push the boxers to my knees then wrap your hands around me."

I push my panties to my knees and bring my hand between my legs.

"I've got my lips on your neck. Kiss my way to your tits. Then I'm sucking on your nipple. Biting it. Hard enough you have to scream my name. Take my hand between your legs. You're already wet."

His breath hitches. He's getting close.

It spurs me on. I stroke my clit. Harder. Harder. There. Just enough pressure. I let out a low moan.

"Mmm. Where do you want my cock?"

"Inside me."

"Want to split you wide open."

I groan a yes.

"I pin your knees to the bed. Drive deep inside you. You feel like heaven. Like you were made to take my cock."

My sex clenches. I groan. "I'm gonna come."

"Come on my cock."

There isn't any shyness left. I stroke myself harder and harder, moaning and screaming so loudly that I can't make out any of his words.

Then there are no words. Just his breath and a low, deep groan. He's almost there too.

It's better than words, his groan. It echoes around the room, filling me in a way nothing else can. A few more brushes of my fingers and I'm at the edge. Pleasure spills to my fingers and toes as I come.

I scream his name.

It's not enough. With the way he's groaning, he's close. I want to be there with him.

"Louder," I breathe. "No more words. Just fuck yourself. I want to hear you come."

His groan is deep and animal. It's the most beautiful music I've ever heard.

I wait until his breath is hitching, until I'm sure he's almost there, and I stroke myself again. Within moments, I'm at the edge.

"Jess," he groans.

With my next stroke, I come again. It's more intense. Tighter, heavier, better. He's there too. His voice gets higher. Then he's groaning my name again and again.

Then he's letting out this delicious sigh of satisfaction.

For a few minutes, we listen to each other breathe.

He breaks the silence. "How was that?"

"I like listening to you."

"Me too."

"I like touching you better though." I let out my own sigh of satisfaction. "When do you get back tomorrow?"

"By dinner. Don't start without me." He chuckles. "It's late and it's a school night. You should go to bed."

"I'm in a bed."

"Go to sleep."

"Okay. I… I miss you."

"I miss you too."