Page 63 of Dirty Little Mistake

His gorgeous lips curved into a grin, and he winked before bouncing his brows. "Can't give all my secrets away." His gaze dropped to his food. "But I can tell you it will be clothing optional."

"Oh." I smirked. "So I can wear clothes."

He shrugged. "As long as I can take them off you."

My skin heated, and my stomach fluttered as the thought of our last time together flooded my memories.

"I miss you." The words escaped before I could catch them, hanging in the air between us like a confession. My throat tightened—it was different saying it like this, raw and unplanned, not our usual casual conversation. In the quiet of my rose-filled room, it felt like admitting how much power he had over my heart.

"I miss you too." His tongue swept across his lips, lingering on his lip ring. "This lifestyle's crazy, you know. You're constantly surrounded by people, but you feel so alone."

My chest ached at the weariness in his voice, at the shadow that crossed his face. I knew that feeling intimately—the hollow echo of an empty house, the way laughter died in empty rooms. But while my solitude was measured in square feet, his was measured in stadium seats. He'd never know how perfectly his words mirrored my nights spent watching his concert videos, feeling simultaneously surrounded by thousands and completely alone.

He cleared his throat. "Anyway." He was obviously uncomfortable with the vulnerability in his statement.

"I bet the groupies are way better on tour."

"The only groupie I’m interested in is this cute little brunette who's always up front, singing along to every song back home."

"Oh, yeah."

"Yeah, she's kind of obsessed with me."

"Obsessed might be too strong of a word."

"Nah, ‘cause I'm kind of obsessed with her too." The tone of his voice shifted lower, more seductive, and I wanted to kiss him so freaking bad.

A sound came from Trystan's room, and his gaze shot up. "Hey, I gotta go. Jazz is here."

"Okay." I smiled. "Text me later if you can." I reached forward to hit the end call button.

"Cam..." His voice dropped lower, carrying that rough edge that always preceded his most honest moments. When I met his gaze through the screen, the raw vulnerability there stole my breath—it was the same look he'd worn the first time he'd kissed me, like he was terrified and certain all at once. "I love you."

For a heartbeat, time suspended. The words weren't new—he'd said them before—but something about hearing them here, surrounded by the physical proof of how far he'd go to make me feel close to him, made them feel different. Made them feel infinite. My chest swelled with an emotion too big for my body, pressing against my ribs until I thought they might crack under the pressure of containing it all.

"I love you too." The words came out thick with everything I couldn't express—how proud I was of him living his dream, how much it hurt to watch him do it from afar, how grateful I was that he still made space for me in his ever-expanding world.

I hit the end call button. My screen went black, and I immediately missed him.

I twisted in my chair, taking in the constellation of candlelight reflecting off dozens of crystal vases. Each rose was a promise, each petal a reminder that distance was just geography. Nothing more. Even separated by hundreds of miles, he could still make my bedroom feel like the most intimate space in the world.

Chapter 30

Camryn

Three weeks later...

Everything seemed like a fairytale—too good to be true. Even though I hadn't seen Trystan face to face, we'd spent every free moment we had on the phone, FaceTiming or texting and sending pictures. I really couldn't have asked for more, given our situation.

He was doing the best he could to prove he was all in.

Tonight was Trystan's last concert, and I was flying across the country to surprise him. Or that had been the plan, but my connecting flight was delayed by over six hours, and I'd completely missed the entire concert.

"Where to, miss?" the cab driver inquired, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror.

I had intended to stay with Trystan in his hotel room, but last night, Trystan told me they were probably just going to crash on their bus since it was the last night and head to the airport first thing in the morning. So, I booked a hotel room for us that was only a five-minute walk from the arena where they were playing.

If plans had gone right, I would have made it to Trystan's concert, that I had pit tickets for, and he said I was on his list of people to let back to see him. I was going to surprise him, but now it looked like I was going to have to call him.

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