“No, Mads. We can be more.” My feelings for her wouldn’t relent. “We can’t stay hidden forever.”
“I like the way things are.” She planted soft kisses against my collarbone. “This is our thing. It’s not tainted by the outside world. I like that you’re my escape from reality.”
“Hmmm.” I hooked my finger beneath her chin and lifted it. I wriggled my eyebrows. “Are you saying I’m your fantasy?”
“I didn’t say that.” She giggled, play-punching me in the arm, and rolled back onto the pillows. “No egos here, thanks.”
“None.” I shuffled around to face her and swept her hair back over her shoulder, combing my fingers through the soft strands. I loved just lying next to her, looking at her, breathing her in. However, life had changed. “But with our lives getting crazier, I’m not sure we’ll be able to keep this a secret for much longer. I’m followed by paparazzi. Your show is getting more popular. I hate keeping shit from the guys.” I caressed her soft cheek. My gaze locked onto hers. My heart beat with a slow, aching, unrelenting rhythm. “Mads...go out with me. Officially be mine. I want the world to know I’m yours.”
Her breath hitched. A storm of emotions—fear, love, excitement, and dread—darted across her beautiful eyes. She slammed them shut and stilled. “Can we hold on to this just a little longer?” Strain hovered in her barely audible voice. “My show’s new season launches at the end of next month. We have a publicity tour. I don’t want to be harassed during interviews. Can we please wait?”
“Mads, don’t stress.” I kissed her furrowed brow, willing her worries away. “Just be mine. I’ve got so much shit going on, I’m okay with holding off telling everyone for now.”
She glided her hand over my chest. Her sensual touch tapped at my nervous heart. Tore at it too. I wanted to be with her. Not sure if that was a good thing or not. We rarely saw each other, but I was under her spell. She was my calm, my confidant, my strength and coping mechanism. She was my escape too.
“Thank you.” Her gaze softened as she realigned the sheet over our waists and covered her chest. “We didn’t get the chance to talk much last night.” Her small, contagious smile was hard not to mimic. When she’d arrived at my house, we’d barely said a word. We’d just fucked, needing each other. But as her fingertips circled and played with my nipple, her lips morphed into a concerned frown. “Is everything alright? In your texts, around all the dirty, hot things you wanted us to do...and did...you didn’t hide the fact that you’re stressed. You have been for weeks. Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Just being there with her calmed the clatter inside my head. “You got that, huh?”
“Yeah.” She tapped a finger against my chest. “You wanna talk about it?”
Most days, I struggled to make sense of what was going on inside my brain and with the unease that I felt brewing in my soul. I took a deep breath to align my messy, muddled thoughts into some comprehensible form. “Have you ever been so excited about something but then freaked out and worried it might be your biggest mistake?”
“Yes. When I was engaged to Noah.” Too much heartache drifted through her quiet tone. I hated how much he’d hurt her. I was sure there was more to the story than she’d let on. Maybe one day she’d tell me. We’d all had those relationships we wished we could forget.
I let out something that resembled a low, sympathetic chuckle and rubbed her arm. “I’m not talking about relationships. I meant work.”
“Oh. Sorry. My bad.” She tugged and realigned the pillow beneath her head and edged an inch closer. “So what’s happened?”
I took her hand in mine and clutched it against the center of my chest. I needed some grounding. An anchor. She was it. “I don’t know if I’m just stressed...or if it’s everyday shit people think about. They’re constant thoughts. Concerns. Stupid crap that won’t go away.”
“Like what? I promise I won’t repeat anything you say. I cross my heart and hope to die.” She made a cross sign with her fingers over her heart, then placed her hand on mine. “I’m here for you, like you’re there for me. I’ll listen, hold you, eat ice cream if needed, or help in any way I can.”
Warmth from her touch spread across my skin. But the pressure in my head grew, forming a dull ache behind my eyes. “I don’t want to scare you away.”
“I’m sure I can handle it. You put up with my mom. I’d thought you would’ve run away after you met her and saw what I dealt with on a daily basis.”
“Nothing about you scares me, Maddy.” I linked our fingers together and kissed her hand. “I hope you feel the same way about me.”
“Slip, I’m not gonna lie. We have things to work through. And we will. In time. But today is about you.” She touched my cheek. “Please? Tell me what’s going on?”
Did I just fall for her even more? Yep.
But my mind didn’t stop whirling. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to find a clear path through the jungle. “Have you ever jumped on a roller coaster, got buckled in for the ride...but wished you’d stayed on the Ferris wheel?”
“Yes.” Her voice softened as her head sank deeper into the pillow. “That’s my life. I’m stuck in the carriage, going around and around, and I have no way of getting off.”
Yeah. She gets me. “That’s me, too, only mine is spinning at a sonic speed, getting faster and faster and faster.” Even as I said those words, it felt like the floor beneath me was giving way.
“Are you stressing about the tour?”
“Every day.” My pulse thudded like a dull, never-ending drum inside my head. “The plans for the next year or so are overwhelming. I have this constant level of stress I’ve never had before. There’s this presence of guilt, this high, this love, this want, this underlying tank of fear that cripples me.”
“Shh.” She brushed her thumb across the stubble above my lip and stroked her soft fingertips down my cheek. Each touch was a soothing balm. “It’s okay. Just breathe. Let’s break it down. One by one. What do you feel guilty about?”
Fuck! Where do I begin? I draped my hand over her hip and rubbed my thumb across the sheet covering her skin. The simple contact helped settle my racing mind. “We’d always planned to do another album and tour with Phil. That was the dream. And he’s not here. I miss him so much it hurts.” Every muscle in my ribs ached as nausea gnawed at the lining of my gut. “But we found Lewis. He’s so talented. Became an incredible friend so quickly. He’s come into our life like it was meant to be. He’s a Flintlock through and through. Is that fucked up or what?”
She flattened her hand over my heart. “It’s okay to feel those things. Losing someone is hard. But Phil would want you to be happy and continue to play. You love music so much and are so good at it—don’t feel bad about moving on or connecting with someone new. Good friends are difficult to find in this business. Just remember the fabulous times you had with Phil and be grateful you can keep doing what you love.”