Page 52 of New Year's Faye

“Good.” He tapped a finger against my temple. “Don’t over think this, Faye. It is what is it.”

I tilted my head back. “And what is this, exactly?”

“The start of something great.”

Chuckling, I snuggled closer into his side. “Okay. We should sleep though. You have a studio day tomorrow and interviews before the concert.”

“Mm.” He pressed a kiss to my head. “I’ll wake you up early for round two.”

“Can’t wait.”

10

FAYE

CURRENT STATUS REPORT

Basking in the afterglow

Notes: No notes. 10/10

Morning sunlight filtered through the hotel curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. I stretched lazily, my eyes adjusting to find Sam at the small desk by the window, bent over his notebook. His hair was still mussed from sleep—and, if I were honest—round number three.

Grinning, I rolled onto my side, tucking my hands under my cheek as I watched him. There was something about seeing him there, completely absorbed in his writing, that made my heart flutter.

"Early bird," I mumbled.

He startled slightly, laughing at his own surprise. "Morning sleepyhead. How are you feeling today?”

I stretched, allowing the sheet to slip down and hover just over my nipples. “Well. You?”

His gaze locked on my breasts. “Never better.”

“Do we have time for—” I groaned as my phone let out a cheery buzz. “Hold that thought. I need to take this.”

He closed his notebook, setting it on the dresser. "I'll grab a shower then go rustle us up some breakfast. Room service is gonna take too long.."

“Sounds great.”

I watched him walk toward the bathroom, his butt gloriously clad in his boxers as I answered. "Faye Moyo speaking."

"Ms. Moyo, this is David Cohen from Rolling Stone..."

My heart leapt. Rolling Stone had been our white whale since the band's second album.

“Mr. Cohen, hi, hello!” I scrambled, reaching for Sam’s shirt as I juggled the phone.

“Call me Dave. Look, I know this is late notice but I’ve had a cancellation. Any chance you might be free on Wednesday to discuss that feature?”

“For you? Absolutely! Just tell me where and when.”

“Great, let me give you the address.”

“Sure, um… just let me…” I scrambled for something to write with as he discussed potential interview dates. The only thing within reach was Sam's notebook on the dresser.

"Just one moment," I said smoothly, flipping it open to a blank page at the back. But the page wasn't blank. My name caught my eye, stopping me cold.

Faye colour codes everything. Even her paperclips have a system. I shouldn't find it adorable, but I do.

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