Page 133 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
She smirks. “Nah, I was waiting for the rockstar.”
“Jesus Christ.” I groan. “Don’t start.”
“What? It’s not every day my boyfriend gets four Grammy nominations.” She bumps her shoulder into mine, eyes glittering. “I’ve heard of the Rock category, but the other three are pretty obscure. Is Linus losing it over your tour schedule?”
“Understatement.” I shake my head. “He’s got the next year mapped out in his usual color-coded hell. I went in fully ready to talk to everyone about taking a step back today, but…”
She raises an eyebrow. “But you didn’t.”
“But I didn’t,” I admit. “It’s hard to tell them I’m done when the offers keep getting bigger. We’ve never had these kinds of opportunities before. I’m getting a taste of what it’s been like for Connor.”
“I bet.” Her hand finds mine under the table.
We don’t have to talk about the big-picture plan. The one where I hang up the sticks after this cycle and spend more time painting than sleeping in buses. The problem is this cycle doesn’t seem to end.
“Mara texted me today.” She dunks a chip in the salsa with her free hand. “A darling picture of Raff with Tanner at the park.”
I suck my lips over my teeth at the mention of Mara’s boyfriend. “Yeah. He’s good with him. Still weird, though.”
“You’ve been a good sport about it.” She squeezes my fingers.
“Trying.” I drag a finger over her knuckles. “I’m salty there are weeks Tanner sees him more than I do. I’m missing a lot. It makes me want this stuff with the band to end, but I’m also trying to enjoy the success. It’s a mind fuck.”
“You’re a public commodity now.” I swear I catch the shadow there. The truth beneath the tease.
I shake my head. “I’m not a commodity. I’m yours. I’d rather be here hanging at the climbing wall with the kids, or supporting Cillian when he gets out of rehab for fuck’s sake.”
“Climbing wall, huh?” She toys with the rim of her glass. “Is this a hint for our weekend outing?”
“Yeah. I think the rec center’s perfect. Indoor. Big enough for them to run wild, no weather excuses. Isla can try the ropes course, Lila will love the crafts corner, and Jude—”
“—will follow Rafferty around until he begs for mercy.” Her laugh is soft, a memory already forming in her eyes. “He really does take his older-kid status seriously.”
“He’s good with Raff,” I say with pride, but also ache. “Wish they saw each other more.”
“We have dinner Sunday.”
“Not enough.” I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it, grounding myself in the touch. “It’s never enough.”
Movement and chatter ripple throughout the room, but it all fades when our eyes meet.
“I know we said we’d wait until things settled to tell the kids,” she says eventually, “but it’s been two and a half years since Cooper passed. They’ve healed in ways I didn’t think possible. I think they’re ready.”
“Are you?” I lean in and give her a peck.
“Yes. I’m ready for us to be in the same house.” She kisses me back. “Only if you are too.”
My gut squeezes. “I’m sure about you. About our kids. Always. The rest…” I blow out a breath. “It feels messy.”
“Because of Cillian?”
“Yeah,” I admit. “But he’s in rehab now. It’s more about Linus stacking the calendar. Another tour. More press. And this Grammy thing’s lit a fire under everyone’s arse. If I walk away now, I’m not only disappointing Liam. I’m turning down stupid money to keep us set for years.”
Her smile tilts, equal parts love and frustration. “Then tell me your plan.”
“We’ve got to be in the home stretch.” I glance at the table, then back at her. “The cycle should be finished by the end of next year. I think I should bank what I can. Tell Liam I’m not going to be on the next album at some point so we can start looking for a drummer for when I’m done.”
She doesn’t blink. “You’re sure?”
