Page 115 of Wicked Rockstar

Thatlook slayed me. For so long, I had wished Peter would look at me with such ferocity, such naked need etched into every line of his face. But here, in this moment, I realized that no matter how wide Peter grinned or how kindly he gazed upon me, it wasn’t love. It wasn’t even desire.

It was clear to me now that Peter never felt any passion for me. He never gave me a look that told me he’d burn the world to the ground just to have me.

Not even close.

But Killian did.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I reassured him.

“Fuck, Tink.” So much was conveyed with those two words: That he hadn’t believed this would ever happen. That he still wondered if this was real.

I chuckled softly. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

He laughed along with me, the sound vibrating through his chest and into mine. His thumb gently stroked my cheek. The now-familiar calluses made my skin sing—a reminder of all the times he’d played guitar for me. His music had always been a balm to my soul.

He spoke low and earnestly. “I need you to be sure.”

The weight of a million rocks hit me with how much I’d hurt him. We were both so damaged. Him, even more than me. Hurt by our pasts, we struggled to believe that what was right in front of us could be real. Forever.

Tears pricked at my eyes. I let them spill down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. That I didn’t see … ”

He gently wiped my tears away with the rough pads of his fingertips. “Tris. I have loved you for so long it’s coded in my DNA. There’s no me without you. These years without you in them were torture.”

His words of love burned into my soul, branding it so that I’d never forget them. He’d told me I deserved more, and now that I removed the blinders that I’d worn for far too long, that was exactly what I was going to get.

More love. More laughter. More friendship. More passion. More of everything I had ever wanted.

I pressed my lips to his. “I wished I had known.”

“I wish I had told you.” His voice cracked with the heavy admission.

“Why didn’t you?”

“You were more than clear on who you wanted.”

“I was a foolish girl. With a foolish heart.” But we both knew that even if he had told me, I might have been incapable ofreturning his feelings. And that would have pushed him away far faster than my infatuation with Peter.

Back then, I had been raw from the death of my parents, lonely, and feeling unwanted. I latched onto Peter. I knew now that I’d mistaken the safety I felt with him for love, and I’d never been able to let go of it. Until now. “But maybe our time wasn’t then. Maybe we had to go through all this to come out on the other side to make this work. To appreciate what we have. Because now that I know—and my heart knows what it really wants—there’s no chance I’m messing it up.”

The frantic rhythm of his heart under my hand matched my own. We leaned in at the same time, as if drawn together by an invisible thread. His lips found mine and I moaned, wanting more, needing more. It was brutal. It was hot, hard, and deep; messy and filled with longing.

It was us at our most basic level.

I breathed in deeply, savoring the scent that was uniquely Killian—the mix of leather, sandalwood, and something warm and spicy that had always meant ‘home’ to me, was the same as it always was. But now I knew why.

His scruff scraped against my swollen lips. “I want to hear the words.”

My muddled brain slowly processed what he said. Instead of demanding more of his kisses. I asked, “What words?”

“I want to hear you’re done with Peter,” he growled.

I gave him a sassy smile. “Peter who?”

“Tink,” he warned me, his voice rough and low. He clearly did not enjoy my teasing.

Luke’s words replayed in my head that Killian wouldn’t ever believe I’d given up on Peter.

I sobered and let my teasing grin fall so he could see that I was serious. The man in front of me needed this reassurance.There was not a second of hesitation on my part. “I’m over Peter. I wouldn’t be here like this with you otherwise.”

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