Page 35 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
Fuck. I’m a selfish bastard. I kiss her shoulder again, fingers drifting down to where we’re joined. Try to stroke her the way she likes. Thumb circling her clit. Slow. Gentle.
“I don’t think it’s happening tonight,” she says softly after a bit and moves my hand away.
I still. Rest my hand on her hip.
“Okay,” I acknowledge, even though it’s not.
Everything in me wants to fix whatever this is. I want my feisty Stevie. All of her. “Babe, are you even with me?”
Holy shit, I unlock the floodgates. She turns, buries her face in my chest and starts to cry. Not softly. Hard sobs shake her tiny frame. I have no idea what’s wrong so I hold her tighter.
“I’m drowning,” she bawls. “I’m such a fuckup. I forgot to return an email. A huge one. It would’ve paid the band enough to cover the studio time outright. I didn’t even see it until tonight.”
My stomach drops. “Shit.”
“I’m so sorry, Padraig.” Her voice cracks. “I’m doing everything I can, I swear. But school’s hard this year. My classes are real. Demanding. I’m trying to be there for you and Liam. I can’t keep up. I’m failing at life.”
I stroke her cheek soothingly. “Stevie. Baby. You don’t have to—”
“I do. Because if I don’t, who will?” She sits up and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re so happy. I see it. I’m so proud. I’ve never seen you so alive. But you’re gone most nightsnow. I miss you. I miss us. I don’t want to be some girl you fuck at three a.m. because you’re wired and horny.”
I sit up beside her. Pull her into my lap.
“You are my everything. I miss us too, but I’m right here. I haven’t gone anywhere.” I thread my fingers through her hair.
“You haven’t leftyet.” She leans her forehead against mine. “If I don’t go with you to a gig, I’m all alone with so much time to think. Sometimes it feels like maybe we’re not on the same path anymore and it scares the fuck out of me.”
I swallow hard. The thing is, she has nothing to worry about. I’m not giving us up for anything and if she doesn’t realize it, I’m the one who’s failing. I want it all. I want the band. I want her. I believe we’re strong enough to weather this. When we promised each other forever, I meant it.
“I’m not saying I’m gonna quit helping.” She exhales. “At the same time, I can’t keep up. I don’t know how much longer I can pretend I’ve got it all handled.”
Shutting off the lamp, I wrap her in my arms. “You never have to pretend. Not with me.”
“Liam’s gonna be furious.” Her arms circle my neck.
“Shhhh.” I feather kisses along her face. “We’ll sort it out in the morning.”
It’s nearly noon. I can hear Liam in the kitchen before I open our bedroom door.
His voice carries over the hiss of the electric kettle. Assuming he’s talking to Felicity, I tug on a clean t-shirt and pad barefoot into the hall toward the voices. Stevie trails behind me. No makeup, hair messy, one sleeve slipping off her shoulder. Her knuckles brush mine.
Immediately, I realize Liam isn’t with our singer. The deep, musical laugh isn’t one I recognize.
Stevie and I round the corner and stop short.
Liam’s got some guy pressed against the kitchen counter, one arm braced beside his head, the other wrapped around his waist. Their mouths are fused together, and it’s not some quick morning kiss. It’s slow and full-bodied. A snog fitting only if you’ve fucked all night.
The guy is shorter and stockier than Liam with unkempt brown hair and a full beard. I’m not sure if they hear us, but neither seem to be in any rush to break away from each other.
I cough. Once. Twice.
Liam finally notices us and straightens, lips red, breath shallow. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I manage.
The guy shifts to lean against the counter. The rolled sleeves of his checkered shirt hug muscled forearms. He’s got a pair of dark-framed glasses hooked into the collar of his tee. He exudes a calm, quiet energy and it feels like he already belongs here.
“This is Linus.” Liam nods to the guy.
