No Tomorrow

“Nope. None.”

“You’re the only one in my world, babe, and I’m gonna try like hell to make you want to stay in it.”

Does he have any idea what it feels like—to be told I’m the only one? Nope. I think he’s utterly clueless to the fact he gives me butterflies, makes me dizzy and breathless, makes my panties get wet. Without even trying.

“I don’t want you to try. Just be you. That’s all.”

“That’s what I’m trying to say, Piper. I’ve been up and down so many times, for so long, I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know I don’t want to fuck this all up.”

Why, oh why, is vulnerability so attractive?

“We’ll be okay,” I say softly. “It’s new for both of us, right? We just take it one day at a time and see what comes natural. No trying, no stressing.”

Nodding, he pulls his cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one up.

I see the shaking of his hand, the rise and fall of his chest as he takes deep breaths.

And then he flashes me his smile, and I see my own smile reflected in his sunglasses, and I forget everything else.





Blue told me a while back he and Reece moved out of their condo into a rented house because they wanted more privacy and garage space. I was expecting a basic two-story house with a three-car garage and a pile of dishes in the sink, laundry sitting in places it shouldn’t be, guitars on the coffee table, and a huge drum set in the basement.

That’s what the rock star bachelor pad looked like in my head.

In reality, it’s a small mansion on approximately two acres of lush grass, right on the water. The state of the inside remains to be seen, but the outside is impeccable.

“Wow,” I say when he parks the car in the driveway in front of a six-car garage. “You didn’t tell me you live in such a—”

“House?” he interrupts. “Pretty fucked up, huh?”

“No, it’s just—”

“Monolithic?”

I laugh. “Yeah.” I peer up at the looming house.

We climb out of the car together and he retrieves my suitcase from the back seat, then comes around to stand next to me.

“Reece picked it out. He comes from money so he’s gotta have the best of the best of the best. Me? I don’t need all this. You know me...” He grins sheepishly.

I do. This guy used to sleep on the ground under a bridge with nothing but his duffel bag for a pillow and a solar lantern for light.

“How many cars do you have?”

“Just this one. And a Harley. I’ve only had time to ride it twice, though. Reece wanted all this garage space for his two cars and a hot rod he’s restoring.”

“Nice.”

He nods off toward the edge of the property. “Later we’ll go for a walk by the water. Every time I walk out there I wish you and Acorn were with me. The sunset over the water is incredible.”

I follow him to the front door and he leads me into a foyer with a wrought-iron chandelier hanging high above. A wide staircase curves up to the second floor, and the main floor splits from the foyer. The walls are a very pale cream—not quite white as Blue described them—the tile floor just a few shades darker. The furnishings—at least what I can see—are a deep mahogany wood, the accents black metal. Strong and masculine, yet just enough softness to have its own elegance.

I like it.

“It’s beautiful.”

He smiles and puts my suitcase down. “You don’t have to whisper, babe.”

I’m not sure why I am.

“C’mon.” He takes my hand and tugs me to the right archway, which opens up to a huge living room with a black leather u-shaped couch that looks like it could fit fifteen people. A matching, but much smaller, love seat sits in front of a wall of glass that overlooks a flower garden. Leather pub chairs in both black and white are placed strategically around the room along with dark accent tables, lamps, and statues. I feel like I’ve walked into one of those homes they showcase on houses of the rich and famous.

“Hey, you made it.”

The decor has me so entranced I didn’t even see Reece lying on one end of the couch. His long black hair blends almost perfectly with the leather. He stands and crosses the room to pull me into a hug.

“I made it,” I say. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“I was just gonna say the same. Make yourself at home. You need anything? Just yell and we’ll get it for ya.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll show you upstairs, babe. You can put your things away.”

I give Reece a little wave and follow Blue upstairs, past large matted photos of the band, mingled with articles and awards hanging on the walls.

Everything is so neat and clean. Not a dirty sock or empty bottle in sight. I’m impressed.

Blue takes me to a bedroom down the right wing of the second level and places my suitcase just inside the door.

“Reece and I each have a master bedroom and a guest room. His rooms are to the left of the stairs, mine are down here. I thought you could keep your things in this room. The closets and dressers are empty, and it has its own bathroom so you can put all your makeup and stuff out.”

I scan the huge room, wondering if any other women have ever stayed in here to visit him.

“Thank you.”

He snakes his arms around me and pulls me tight against his body. “I really don’t want you sleeping in here, though.”

“No?”

He presses his lips to mine and slides his hands down to squeeze my ass through my jeans. “No. You always wanted me to have a bed. Now I’ve got one and your sweet little ass better be in it every night.”

I go up on my tiptoes, wrap my arms around his neck, and smile up at him. “I can’t wait to be in your bed. Maybe I can beg for your autograph,” I tease.

“You want to role play, Ladybug?” His husky voice gets my pulse going. “I’ll write my name on every inch of you and then make you scream it when I’m pounding into you.”

“Ooh.”

He picks me up in his arms like a new groom on his honeymoon and carries me down the hall to the last bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

“This one is mine. Now that you’ve teased me, I don’t think I’m letting you out anytime soon.”

I tighten my arms around his neck. “I never tease you.”

He throws me onto the bed and falls on top of me, pushing my legs apart with his and pinning my hands above my head with one of his.

“Tell me about the tattoo,” I ask as he moves his lips across the skin revealed in the V-neck of my T-shirt.

He lifts his head and shakes his hair out of his face. “Which one?”

“The ladybug on your hand.”

A grin graces his lips. “When did you see that?”

“Years ago. At the hotel. I just never remembered to ask you about it.”

Lifting his hand, he turns his wrist so I can see the tiny tattoo again. It’s almost exactly like my own, only his is surrounded by the rest of his sleeve design. I’m not even sure how I noticed it that day.

“I got it a few months after I left. I wanted something to remind me of you. I told you the myth was true, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“Do you believe it now?”

“I’ve always believed it.”

He dips his head down again and presses his warm lips against my neck. “We should get married.”

My breath catches in my throat, right beneath that sensitive spot his mouth is covering.

“Wh-what?”

“Me and you,” he whispers, nudging the fabric of my shirt away with his face and dragging his lips to my collarbone.

I am utterly, without any doubt, shocked speechless. I raise my hand and touch his head, threading my fingers in his hair as he continues kissing me like he didn’t just drop a huge bomb on me.

My brain fights through the tremors spreading through my body from his touch.

“Blue...do you have any idea what you just said?”

“Mmm,” he hums, lifting my shirt and kissing my breast through the thin white lace of my bra.

“Evan?” This is a conversation that might require his real name.

Finally he looks up at me, his blue eyes smoldering. “I fucked this all up, didn’t I?”

“I guess it depends on what this is.”

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