Page 121 of Wicked Rockstar

He didn’t move or avert his gaze. He just calmly stared at me while the realization sunk in.

“But that can’t be true. I see your photo in the paper with a different woman practically every week.”

He shrugged. “I told you, I’ve never had a girlfriend. I don’t want people that don’t matter in my space. I never bring women here.”

“Oh.” A thrill shot through me, causing me to sit up a little straighter. Knowing I was the only one to see the inside of his home settled the roving beast of jealousy within me.

And knowing that it proved what I meant to him.

Satisfied and very much surprised in the best way, I decided to change the subject. “The song you were working on sounded beautiful.”

He pursed his lips. “It’s not exactly right. I’m not sure if I’ll use it or not.”

“Killian, the melody was so complex and catchy, it drew me right in. I loved it. You should put it in the new album.”

“It might be the only thing on it,” Killian muttered and then jerked upright, his cheeks flushing. “I’m exaggerating.”

I reached across the table and placed my hand over his. “Are you struggling with choosing songs to use?”

He sighed and turned his hand to allow our fingers to intertwine. “This would be the fourth one so far. We’ve practiced the other three already.”

I wrinkled my nose and tried to remember what I specifically heard about the new album. “And you’re recording tomorrow?”

“Yup.” His fingers tightened before he let go to pick up his coffee mug. His confession surprised me. He never liked to be underprepared when he entered the recording studio.

Pain manifested in his tight features—in the press of his lips, in the shadows gathering at the corners of his eyes, in the set of his jaw. It hurt to see this brilliant, creative soul struggling to create when it once came so easily to him.

Killian hated to be pitied. “Inspiration struck this morning. Maybe you’re my lucky charm, Tink.”

“Are you saying I’m your muse?” I joked, kind of liking that idea.

A bright smile curved his lips. “I think you might be.”

“I, uh …” This revelation felt personal and intimate, something rare and special. In the last twelve hours, everything between us had changed and I wanted to acknowledge what an honor that was. Words hovered on my lips, only to be quickly discarded for not being good enough to convey what was in my heart.

“Tink, look at me.” He gently tipped my chin up with a knuckle. “I haven’t had a muse in a long time.” He sighed, like he was releasing an old burden.

I swallowed hard. This was even bigger than I thought.

Emotion flickered in his blue gaze. He stood and drew me up to him. “No one has ever affected me like you do.”

This poor, sweet man had misinterpreted my silence. “I’m not worried about other people being your muse.” I smiled. “It makes me feel good to know I can help you in some small way, and I wanted to express that but I couldn’t find the right words.”

“You’re the only muse I need.” His hand gripped the back of my neck, pulling me in so suddenly, I collided with his chest. Heat rushed to my face.

His touch claimed me as his. And in the same way, he was mine.

I tilted my head, locking eyes with him, my mouth suddenly dry. I swiped my tongue across my lips, and Killian’s gaze tracked the motion like he was memorizing every detail.

His lips were a breath away. I gripped his biceps, digging into the hard muscle. If I lifted my chin up and rose on my toes, we’d be perfectly aligned to kiss.

“You’ve always been my only muse,” he admitted.

What?

I froze. A few slow blinks being all I could manage as his words sank in. “How? We haven’t seen each other in years.”

His hand slid around to cup my throat, his thumb skimming along my erratic pulse point while his other hand rubbed slowly up and down my hip, soothing me. “Every song I’ve ever written has always been about you. You’ve never been far from my mind—or my heart.”

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