Page 502 of Rock Me All Night
Tension spills out from my core as I come. It takes me a full minute to catch my breath.
Tom untangles our bodies. He lies next to me, presses his lips to mine, runs his fingers through my hair.
"We christened the new bed," he says.
I nod. "We can get the balcony next.
"Then the couch."
"And the armchair."
"We've already fucked on that chair a dozen times," he says. "But I'm not complaining."
I kiss him deeply.
When he pulls back, he stares into my eyes. "You hungry?"
"A little."
"There's leftover pasta in the fridge. I'll meet you on the balcony."
"What do you mean leftover? You don't cook."
He laughs. "I tried." He pushes off the bed and motions to the closet. "Should be a new robe in there for you."
This day is already amazing. Now, on top of everything else, I have a present. I take my time pouring through the closet. All the clothes I usually keep at Drew's place are here. Most of the space is occupied by Tom's clothes. How can one person own this many different pairs of canvas sneakers? He has a rainbow of them.
The robe is a beautiful silk fabric in a lovely shade of pink. I pull it around my shoulders and cinch it tightly.
Tom is already waiting on the balcony. Our balcony. It's decked with a patio table and two chairs and it looks out on the ocean. God, the ocean is only a few hundred feet away. I can hear the waves. I can taste the salt in the air.
It's beautiful.
And cold. The wind rolls in from the beach. I cinch my robe tighter but that only helps so much.
Tom slides his arm around me and points to the plates of pasta pomodoro on the table. "You eat lunch or dinner?"
"Sort of." I take a seat and dig into the pasta. The basil is scorched and the pasta is undercooked, but so what? Tom made it. As far as I’m concerned, it’s perfect. "Setting up for the gallery kept me busy."
I practically inhale my plate. Tom takes two bites of his then passes it to me. Okay, it would be rude to reject the food he cooked me. I eat until the plate is clean.
Tom smiles as he wipes stray bits of sauce off my cheeks. There's something different about his expression. An uncharacteristic shyness.
He slides the table out of the way, leans back into his chair. "You know, you're the best thing that ever happened to me, kid."
"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," I say.
He stares into my eyes. "It used to be that when I thought about the future, it was mom, and Pete, and Sinful Serenade. How we'd hit higher on the Billboard charts or how our next video would be bigger. All this stuff about taking on the world." He lowers his voice. "But I didn't think about what I wanted at the end of the day, when I was home, by myself in my head. I didn't want anything until I met you."
He lowers himself onto the tile.
Onto one knee.
Holy shit.
He looks up at me. "You make me happy. In a way nothing ever has."
My heart thuds against my chest.
