Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“I came to in an ER cubicle. My mom was frantic. It was almost a relief when they said it was a panic attack and nothing more serious.”
He was afraid to ask but figured he might as well get all the ugly out at once. “And your dad? Where was he in all this?”
She froze in his arms. “With his sick daughter, Sienna, and her mother.”
Grey hated Robert Dare as much, if not more, than he hated his own father. “Aww, baby. You’re lucky you had your mom.”
“I know. She was—is—amazing. She could have brushed it off as a one-time incident, but she didn’t. Between the bone marrow and the passing out, she was worried about me. At the pediatrician’s suggestion, she took me to a child psychologist, and they worked with me on calming exercises.”
“Did they help?”
“Sometimes.”
He figured. Because Tyler wouldn’t have mentioned the panic attacks earlier if they hadn’t happened again.
Grey tangled his hands in her hair and nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent, finding comfort as much as he hoped he was instilling some in her. “Keep going,” he said.
“The kids at school were brutal, so yeah. The panic attacks continued.”
She curled into him, and he held on tight, wanting to never let go.
“Eventually the doctor prescribed child-safe meds. And as I got older, crowds or certain situations would trigger things again. But by then, I could take other medications, and things got under control. I’m fine.”
She shrugged, clearly trying to play off the situation, something he couldn’t allow. “Except you weren’t fine today. Because you had to run the gauntlet of reporters just like you did back then, right?”
“I didn’t pass out.” She pushed herself off him and turned so she straddled his lap instead of being tucked into him. “I admit that I panicked . . . I had the symptoms, and when I got into my room, I took a Xanax for the first time in a long while, but I didn’t pass out,” she said with strength and conviction.
As if she wanted him to know she was strong. And he did. “Sugar, I know you handled it. I got here and you were giving your brother hell,” he said with pride in his voice. “So no worries there.” He pulled in a long breath, then took the conversation where he dreaded going. “The thing is, it’s part of my life, not yours, and you hate it. Which means you shouldn’t have to handle it. Especially when it brings back such painful memories.”
His heart hurt, because he wanted her to associate him with good times, not bad. Yet he didn’t know how to fix things for her. For them.
“I’ve seriously given this a lot of thought.” She met his gaze, her eyes damp but focused on his.
He did his best to ignore the heat of her sex above his, to tamp down the uncomfortable erection caused by her position above him. Instead, he focused on her words because those moist eyes made him nervous.
“You say you’re home to stay, and you believe it when you say it. But I know you, and music is in your heart. Playing to the crowd is in your soul. And eventually, normal life will get boring. Music will call to you, or the lure of the fans and touring will. And I’m not going to be the one to hold you back.”
His heart, the one she claimed belonged to music, beat hard and painfully in his chest. “What are you trying to say?” Because it sounded like an ending, not the beginning he craved.
“I’m saying that I’m here with you now. I want this time with you again, except I’m older and wiser than I was before. When you go this time, I’ll be more prepared. So whatever I have to deal with now, the press, the bodyguard, I’ll get through it in order to have you. For however long it lasts.” With tears in her eyes, she leaned close and sealed her lips over his.
Grey kissed her back, his heart in every touch of her lips and swipe of her tongue. His mind, however, was on her words. She was here because she thought this was short term. She wasn’t panicking, per se, because she didn’t believe he’d be part of her future. While he was trying to cement himself in the very fabric of her being, she was holding herself back, preparing for what she perceived as an inevitable end.
His heart nearly broke at the thought. He wanted to correct her, to set things straight, but doing so might be even worse. If he persisted in trying to convince her how serious he was about their future, if she thought she’d have to deal with the paparazzi and groupies long term, she might cut him off immediately. He couldn’t handle losing her before he ever really had her again.