Page 178 of Forever To Me

I groan, flopping onto the couch dramatically. “You know you are. It’s your whole thing. And apparently, the whole Cowboy Daddy thing has caught fire on social media, so you have that going for you, too.”

He shifts, moving over to sit next to me, eyes glinting with amusement. “So, what I’m hearing is, you’re too busy checking me out to write a song?”

I glare at him. “Oh my God.”

He grins, arms spreading across the back of the couch. “Happens more often than you’d think.”

I throw a pillow at his face. He catches it, laughing, his whole body shaking, and damn it—he’s so stupidly charming I could actually scream.

After several minutes of arguing, throwing pillows, and me threatening to walk out if he didn’t take this seriously, we actually start writing. And, to my shock, we come up with something good.

Like really, really good.

It starts as a joke, a playful back-and-forth about how we’reboth stubborn as hell and should’ve figured this thing out between us years ago.

But somewhere along the way, it shifts. The lyrics come easier. The melody finds itself naturally. And when we finally play through it from start to finish, neither of us says anything for a long time.

I glance over at Walker, who stares at me with an unreadable expression. I swallow. “Well?”

He shakes his head, awe flickering in his eyes. “Damn, Red.”

I exhale, feeling my heartbeat faster than it should. “It’s good, huh?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah.”

I lick my lips, suddenly feeling way too exposed. “Wanna play it again?”

Walker’s gaze drops to my mouth, and I immediately regret my choice of words. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk. “Oh, I got something else in mind.”

And before I can even process what’s happening, his guitar is set aside, and his hands are on my waist, pulling me straight into his lap.

It happens fast.

One second, I’m fully in control, completely professional, just trying to write a damn song. The next, Walker’s mouth is on mine, deep and slow and borderline unfair, his hands tight on my waist, his thumb brushing bare skin under my shirt.

And that is the moment I realize we are not getting any more work done tonight.

I make a soft, breathless sound, and that’s all it takes—he groans against my lips, flipping us so I’m beneath him on the couch, his weight pressing into me, his hands framing my face like he’s holding something breakable.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he mutters, voice rough.

I grin against his mouth. “Likewise.”

His lips trail down my neck, and yeah, this song is never getting finished.

I shift in his arms, trailing my fingers over his chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart beneath my palm.

I tilt my head back, meeting his gaze, soft and unguarded in the early morning light.

"What do think about your future, Asher?" I whisper, barely breathing the words.

His hand lifts, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, his thumb lingering at my jaw, tracing slow circles like he’s memorizing me.

His voice is low, rough, full of something deep and certain when he finally answers?—

"You look like forever to me."

I exhale sharply, because damn it, that’s it. That’s everything.

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