Page 73 of One Day Like This (Excess All Areas 1)

“I love the idea. You know, I keep debating telling people now. But then I think back to Luke. When we were papering a house one day, he ...”

“He what?”

Matt shook his head. “He just told me some shit, about how much the band meant to him and stuff.”

“He said the same to me when he came off stage just then.”

“Fuck. I’m a dick, Iz. It’s so unfair of me to do this to you both. Hiding you. Lying to him. I love you both, but you wouldn’t think so by the way I’m handling this. I just can’t give you or the band and Luke up.”

She cupped his face. “Matt. You aren’t a dick. I get it. I can’t say I like being a secret, but I get it. You’ve been waiting for this one chance. And Luke has always made it very clear he doesn’t want me mixed up in his business with the band. You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. But you aren’t evil because of it. Didn’t you say something similar to me?”

“Pretty sure we never had a conversation about you being a dick or evil.”

Izabel smiled and stroked his cheek. “You told me if the fundraising concert flopped, it was not a reflection on me as a person.”

Matt nipped the tip of her finger. “Pretty sure this is nothing like that.”

“Okay. So, it’s a stretch. But you’re trying to do the right thing. For the band and for Luke. And that means doing something hard in your personal life.”

“I hope you like doing my hard things.”

“I’m serious,” she said, even as she grinned.

“So am I.” He gripped her hip and pulled her against him.

“We aren’t thinking about that right now. Let me finish my point.”

Matt threw his palms up in surrender. “I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

“Well, I guess I just see it as kind of the same thing. You want all of this to be successful, and you’ve come up with the best way of managing you can think of. And sure, it’s got implications. But you aren’t deliberately trying to be a bad person.”

“I love you,” Matt said, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “And one day, we’ll be in our own place, with band and career success, and our family will know, and it will be perfect.”

“I love you too. And it’s also perfect now. With your creaky bed which forces us to get creative when we have sex, and your narrow bathtub we have to squeeze close to each other in, and arena hallway kisses that test your exhibitionism. It’s all its own kind of perfection.”

“Did anybody see Iz?” Luke’s words carried toward her.

“Go.” Matt looked in the direction of his voice and pressed a quick kiss on her lips. “I’ll message you later,” he said, before disappearing down the hall.

And the suddenness of his absence ripped a tear through her happiness.

* * *

Matt yawned and stretched his hands over his head. The clock told him it was nine in the morning after the concert, but it felt like five minutes since Izabel had crept out of his bed a little after four. He tried to persuade her to stay, to sleep in his arms, where he liked her, but she’d been reluctant. She’d been doing the thinking for both of them when she reminded him the rest of the band were dotted around the hotel and could see her walking the halls in the clothes she’d worn the previous evening.

Although, hell, Izabel in the slouchy off-the-shoulder dress and thigh high boots with stiletto heels had been a walking wet dream. Watching her get dressed, pulling the boots over her thighs, had got him all riled up again.

Just like it had while he’d been on stage when he’d watched Niles get close to Izabel off stage. He’d wondered just how far he’d let Niles get before he’d march over there and deck the fucker.

The last thing they needed was to get kicked off the tour because he’d beat up the main act’s lead singer.

But there had been something about Izabel being there, watching them. He’d realised what he’d been missing. Someone to play for.

A loud hammering on the door, too heavy for it to be Izabel, shook him from his thoughts.

He rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair of joggers. Through the peephole, he saw Ben looking windswept in his coat, carrying two brown paper bags from Costa.

Matt dragged the door open. “Morning,” he said, his voice rough.

---