Page 132 of From You to Me

I rolled my eyes as I pulled off. I needed coffee. I was sure I was addicted to caffeine at this point.

“What are you making and isn’t Helen in yet?” I questioned, leaning against the counter.

“I’m making lunch, just some pasta I put together. And as for Helen, she doesn’t come in on the weekends. I’ve asked her to only come in three days a week since there isn’t much to do anyway.”

“The fuck,” I squealed, narrowing my eyes. “You made me come every single day, and you didn’t even need me.”

He smirked. “I might’ve liked watching you move your ass around in my kitchen like you owned it.”

My eyes widened as I fell short of words. “You’re cruel and so is Aimee. I thought you were an overbearing ass at one point.”

“I try to eat healthy to prep a month ahead for the tour.”

I nodded. “Helen did tell me that.”

He switched off the stove and closed the lid on the pasta. “Lunch?”

“Yes please.” I jumped into his arms which he held open for me.

“How sore are you?” he asked, planting a kiss on my cheek.

“Very,” I whined. “Very, very sore. I don’t think I’ll be able to fuck for another week.”

He groaned, burying his face in my neck. “Well, I waited for six years. I think I can wait six more days.”

A laugh rumbled out of me as I held him tight.

The lightness elated my heart.

Peace.

I finally felt at peace.

JAY

“Is it done?” Mikey snapped his attention from tuning his bass guitar from the floor of our den/studio space that we’ve set for ourselves a floor down from my penthouse.

It was all dark leather, red interiors, and low lighting.

A man cave, Lily called it.

“Yeah.” I released a sigh. “All done. Now we wait and watch.”

“Damn.” He grinned. “I’m excited to watch that bitch go down.”

I nodded. “As of tomorrow, they’ll have nothing to their names.”

Though Pacific White was already on the IRS’s shit list, I made Silas dig deeper out of suspicion a year ago when the rumors started to float around in the inner circles.

And damn, was I right, several flags were raised of numerous fraudulent behaviors. I’d been gathering dossiers worth of evidence for a year now. I was never going to let it see the light of day, but after what she did to my girl, I pulled some strings and gave an anonymous tip to the IRS.

And it worked out just fine.

I wanted her down.

Powerless.

Down to nothing.

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