Page 107 of Played By the Rockstar
Hah. No.
“It’s not like that. No expectations. If I was in town, I’d call. Sometimes they’d be in a relationship. I don’t stick my dick in somebody else’s garden, so we didn’t catch up on those trips.”
“That’s a lovely mental picture.” Becca’s eyes sparkled. He did an internal fist pump because she was back, and life was pretty fucking sunny.
He cleared his throat. “Sometimes I’d be busy or seeing someone.”
Becca smirked.
“Hey, it happened.”
“Uh huh. I bet it did.” She stroked the skin of his chest even as she ribbed him with the sarcasm in her words.
“Do you want me to contact them all and tell them I’m in a serious, committed relationship?” Linx asked.
“Would you just send a mass e-mail or something?” Becca asked. “Oh. Maybe there will be a club.” At the idea, she propped herself up on her elbow. “I want to join the club. I bet you don’t know that I love joining clubs.”
She was a nut.
“You can’t join.” He squeezed her waist. “It’ll be for my exes, and you’re still with me.”
“Maybe I want to compare notes.” She tried to wink. The effort she made was adorable, but this was not a skill she possessed, apparently, because she did it about as well as she sang.
Which was to say, A for effort. A participation trophy for showing up.
“Can we be done with this conversation now?” Linx asked.
“That’s probably for the best.” Becca stretched out beside him.
The fact that this was his life, that she was his life, that Dimefront was moving forward with something that felt more like conviction than they’d had in years…it all felt foreign. Foreign, but right. Perfection.
Becca pressed a kiss into the curve of his neck.
“You’re with me now,” she whispered into his ear.
“I am,” he murmured.
“I don’t care who came before.” She nibbled at his ear in that way she did that drove him absolutely crazy with lust.
He moved until their bodies pressed together, careful like he always was when it came to the things that mattered to him.
Then he turned and flipped his woman so she was on her back, underneath him.
She wrapped her legs around his waist.
His heart dipped in his rib cage at her willingness to embrace all the parts of him. The good. The bad. The old. The new.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead before he said, “You’re my world now. I don’t need cities.”
They didn’t speak for a long time.
“Is this real?” she asked.
He pressed his face into her hair. “I fucking hope it is.”
She smiled against his mouth. “You’re good at this. You know that?”
“Which part?” He nibbled at her jawline like she’d done at his ear.
“The making-me-believe-in-happy-endings part.” Then she pressed her mouth to his.
Happy endings were the fucking best.
