Page 75 of Filthy Sweet

Owen stops at the top of the stairs and turns to me, his front teeth over his bottom lip as he smiles broadly. “Yeah. We can.”

I chuckle. “I liked it when you called me your boyfriend.”

“Good.” Owen presses a kiss to my lips. “Because I’m about to call us a car so we can go to dinner.” He winks. “Very boyfriend behavior, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” I answer. “Unless you’d rather ride on the back of my bike?”

Owen’s eyes light up, and five minutes later, I’m cruising to the address he gave me. It’s cooling down as day gives in to night, and Owen hugs me from behind, laughing when we bounce down the hill.

Somehow, on the short ride, my cranky brain starts to accept what’s happening. I’m not going to lose Reggie or Owen. I still have plenty of groveling ahead, but the Lavigne boys are going to stick by me.

They’re my family. In a way, they always have been.

The thought is satisfying, reassuring. It fills me from my core, rooting me in a truth that I’ve always been looking for.

All because of Owen, I think. Anything good that’s coming out of the garbage pile of my life, it’s because of him.

I park us at the restaurant, and Owen hops off the back of the bike and removes his helmet. He’s gorgeous in his suit, confident and happy, and I quickly take him in a kiss.

“Thank you,” I tell him.

Owen hums and presses himself against me. “We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet. Come on.”

The restaurant is chic and quiet, with low lighting, generous booths, and a fusion menu of Japanese and American influences. Owen says something quietly to the waiter, who guides us to the back, and a patio that we have to ourselves.

I cast my eyes around. “Should I be on the lookout for Reggie?”

Owen laughs as we take our seats. “Don’t worry. I didn’t give him the address.”

I chuckle and settle in as the waiter comes and takes our drink orders. When he’s gone, I lean forward to get closer to my cutie. “Let’s see. Round one was to show me that Reggie’s not going anywhere. What’s round two about?”

Owen takes my hands across the table. “It’s about showing you that I’m not going anywhere, either. I don’t care what scandals happen. Right in the middle of it all, I’m going to keep taking you on dates and feeling good with you.” He leans back in his chair, and his feet push against mine. “I’m here, Fox. And I’m not scared about what’s coming next.”

“Fuck.” I pull my hand back to wipe my eye. “Thanks, Owen. I really needed to hear that.”

“I thought so.” He smiles. “Bring on the tabloids.”

“Oh.” I chuckle. “I almost forgot. I told my bands.”

“Told them what?”

“About my past, what might be coming down the road. I told Mare first. She’s fucking golden, and she swore she’d leave the label if they tried to ditch me. I flew out this morning to tell Phoenix in person. Figured if I got it out of the way now, it couldn’t hang over my head anymore.” I push my foot back against Owen’s, up his pant leg. “It couldn’t hang over us.”

“Wow. Fox, that’s huge. I’m really proud of you.”

I chuckle. “I had to fire Phoenix, but yeah. I am, too.”

“You had to fire them!”

I shrug as the waiter arrives with our cocktails. “They were assholes when I told them about my past. Judgmental pricks, and only worried about their own sales.” I cock up half a smile to show him I’m going to be okay. “No loyalty in this business.”

“Fuck.” Owen pouts his lips, studying me. “But… you’re not upset?”

“The label will hate it,” I tell him, “but with Mare’s loyalty, they won’t dare fire me. And I made sure to place a few phone calls, let some choice people know Phoenix is looking for new rep, just to make sure they get swooped up before Aya and her wife can make a move. I’ll focus on Kissing Dirt and maybe nurture another band of my own, too.” I lean forward, smiling at him. “I’ve got you, cutie. Why waste my time with anyone who doesn’t support me for who I am?”

Owen blinks. I see the emotions swirling across his expression. He’s doing so much to show me that he cares, and I’m still not sure I deserve him, but I do know I’m never going to doubt this again.

I open my mouth to tell him that I love him. The feeling surges through me, like the need to claim him. But before the words escape, someone strums a guitar behind us, and a gorgeous, familiar voice sings out.

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