Reverse (The Bittersweet Symphony Duet #2)

“No one. I told you she—”

“Until she accidentally slips up around Damon or during dinner with your parents. From any point—and I mean any point at all—that you cave and confess, no matter who it’s to, it could snowball. Take it from me. The people you trust the most have people they trust most. Your life-or-death secret becomes a secret they have coffee over in hushed whispers.”

“Holly would never—”

I lift a brow.

“Damn, okay, I’ve got it.” She nods. “I see the logic.”

“Joel is the only human alive I truly trust to keep us safe, and we’re going to need him, a lot if we’re going to pull this off.”

“Okay, I believe you, and I adore Joel.”

“I know you do, Beauty. He feels the same.”

I unhook her seatbelt and pull her to straddle me.

“I’ll have to be all of it, your boyfriend, your best friend, and confidant. I’m fine with that, just until we come clean with our parents. Okay?”

She nods firmly. “Okay. Percy it is.”

“Or me,” I try to assure her. “You can bitch about me to me.”

“That’s not the way it works,” she grins.

“I know. Doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll know when you’re pissed. You’re almost as bad as my mom at hiding your emotions.”

“First of all, I’m not an emotional—”

“Just with me,” I finish, every speeding heartbeat due to her proximity confirming what I already know—this woman is very close to owning me.

“And while the ‘no ex within a hundred miles rule’ is very fucking much in effect,” I add, “insecurity and jealousy will end us faster than our discovery might—at least when it comes to your line of thinking.”

“It would be yours too if you knew what I do. Easton, please just read the emails.”

“No,” I say firmly before swiftly changing the subject. “So, we have to keep our heads at all times. Any photo or anything you read in print gets discussed before it’s argued about.”

“Tell that to yourself and my battered vagina. You really are a jealous idiot, which is ironic because I’m the one who has to deal with hordes of women trying to weasel their way into your hotel room.”

I shake my head in frustration. “You don’t have to deal with that. You won’t ever have to deal with that. I’ve—”

“Been there, yes, I know. That’s all I need to know, thank you very much.” Her eyes dim. “Atlanta next, right?”

I can’t help my grin. “You know my show schedule?”

Her neck reddens, and I grin. “She blushes.”

“You’re making me a weak woman.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I chuckle and brush my thumb beneath her lower lip. “You fought like a four-star fucking general last night.”

“Before I lost,” she adds.

“No, baby. Coming clean with me, that took strength, and thank fuck you did.”

“I’ve never been happier about losing,” she murmurs as Joel taps once on the hood, signaling our time is up. I fight the urge to fly with her and spend a week in Austin, getting lost in her world, inside her. Although, I doubt that will stifle enough of the rapidly increasing ache. “The next few stops are going to be brutal schedule-wise, but can you fly out in two weeks? Lake Tahoe?”

“Yes,” she nods, “I’ll make sure I can.”

“I’ll get us the perfect spot.”

Joel knocks on the top of the hood again.

“Shit, you have to board now, or it will fuck up their flight plan.”

“Okay,” She presses a quick kiss to my lips, and I grip her and bruise her lips in return. “See you in two weeks,” she inhales, sliding off my lap and latching onto the door handle, her expression going bleak.

“Natalie—”

She turns back to me, her stare filled with trepidation. “I just hate feeling like we’re being robbed straight out of the gate, you know?”

“Tell me how to fix it.”

“There’s no fixing it…but at the same time, you gave me…” she shakes her head, her electric blue eyes stunning me along with her broadening smile that lights up my whole fucking world.

Damn this woman.

“Easton, last night was the best night of my life.”

“Mine too,” I caress her cheek. “We’ll have so many more, so don’t let errant thoughts take this away from us, okay? Don’t let your guilt ruin this. Text me. Talk to me about it. Make that your first promise to me.”

She nods as I press my forehead to hers. “Say it.”

“I promise, Easton.”

“Good. And I promise to do everything in my power to keep this between us until you’re ready to talk to your dad.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs against my lips.

“Go, before I do something really stupid.”

Anxiety overtakes me with the thousand ways this could go wrong, and she quiets my erratic thoughts with the tenderness in her kiss, soothing me as we desperately draw upon each other’s mouths. I sink into her affection, into her need for me, into the promises we have yet to make, and the declaration dancing on our tongues as our time ticks out. She breaks the kiss with Joel’s last knock and exits the SUV, stalking toward the plane and boarding without a glance back. Though it stings like a bitch, I know why. For the same reason I can’t fly with her and tuck her in.

I revel in what this ache means, in what my heart is relaying.

My chest tightens unbearably as I watch the plane taxi down the runway, flashes of the last forty-eight hours flitting through my mind as our connection continues to buzz through me with the strength of a tsunami. As her plane floats into the late summer sunset, the ache in my chest begins to rage, only confirming the deep-seated truth that began to take shape inside me months ago.

The truth that our souls clicked seamlessly together before our bodies ever aligned, and it can no longer be denied or undone.





Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon

Rafferty

Easton



“It’s a good one, man,” Tack claps my shoulder as he and Syd exit the stage searching for sustenance. Our sound check lasted longer than normal—thanks to my insistence we start working on a new cover I decided we would master after leaving Dallas.

“I agree. See you tonight.”

Syd jerks his chin to LL and me in silent goodbye, vape smoke billowing in his wake. Aside from his base line, I’ve deduced grunts and gestures are Syd’s chosen love language. Syd’s private, and in that, we have common ground.

For the most part, I’ve got my bandmates figured out—quirks and all—except for one. I glance over at LL, who’s taken residence on my piano bench to jot notes down on the margin of his sheet music. When he senses my gaze on his profile, he stops his pencil and stares back at me.

I’ve been borderline hostile with him since Dallas, and he must know why. In response, he’s been playing ignorant. The apology he should have already made feels pointless now, but I can feel the indecisive energy emanating from him when he finally speaks up. “Look, mate, I didn’t know—”

“The fuck you didn’t,” I interrupt. “Let me make myself clear. I don’t care that you’re talented and will be hard to replace. If you ever so much as look at—or pursue—any woman who’s with me like that again, you’re fucking gone.”

“That’s a bit fucking petty,” he fires back. “I was already midgame before she caught us in the act.”

“Then maybe don’t make it a point to have your cock sucked in public.”

“It was your party, and it wasn’t exactly rated PG. If I recall correctly, it was quite the contrary.”

“And that makes me responsible for your behavior?” I roll my eyes and take a step toward him. “I was already skeptical about you personally when we hired you, so any chance of my opinion changing was shot to shit with the way you reacted.”

“She was watching me,” he defends.

“She saw something that piqued…shocked her. In turn, you saw an opportunity,” I snap. “That’s the behavior of a fucking predator. I know it when I see it, so don’t play innocent.”

“Far from that, mate.”

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