Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Her smile when she sees me, as myself, is one I’ll never forget. She looks at me like she’s happy to see me, like I am enough, just as me, Benjamin Taylor, a poor kid from the wrong side of life who still struggles with his demons just to make it through the day sometimes.
She nods this time, letting me know I’m good. I shove my costume and all the other shit back in the bag, throw it over my shoulder, and take her hand.
I slide the door open, help her out, and slam the door once again. The van pulls off, no one but us any the wiser to the switcheroo or the sex that just happened.
I’m never sure exactly where I’ll be, but I’ve done this enough to know the drill. Especially on my home turf of LA.
Except Hope jerks on my hand, and when I glance back, she’s looking around like she knows where she is. “Come on,” she teases, pulling me along as she leads me through the side of the lobby and to the bank of elevators.
Upstairs, she guides me to a door, where she unlocks it with a key card. Once the door is shut behind us, she leans her back against it. “We made it!” she exclaims with a bright smile.
We did. In so many ways.
I move into her, pressing a kiss to her lips once more. “I love you,” I say at a normal volume now. I want to make sure she hears me.
“I love you too,” she answers easily.
But this wasn’t an easy place for us to get to. I lay my forehead to hers and smile. “How did you get here?”
She laughs and pushes me back, but only to make her way to the bed. She kicks her boots off and curls up, crisscrossing her legs and patting the bed beside her, inviting me to sit too. I leave my feet on the floor, not wanting to dirty the bed where I’m about to make love to Hope.
After we finally talk.
“Sean texted me that you weren’t okay, sent me a plane ticket, and then ghosted me. I was worried but also wanted to see you.”
“I’m still gonna kill that fucker,” I say, but I don’t mean it anymore. Sean is not without his issues, but I’m no walk in the park to deal with either. And he’s trying to fix things—with me and Hope, and with us and AMM. Trying is enough for now.
Hope pushes at my shoulder. “Get in line. Me first. Stabby-stab.”
She makes a stabbing motion, and I’m reminded of Joy casually mentioning Shepherd doing the same thing to me. It’s amazing how much and how quickly things can change. We’ve gone from meeting each other, to falling in love, to fighting and breaking up, to being back together. I want it to stay like this.
“I’m sorry for not telling you about the band. I wanted to, was going to. That’s why Sean did it first. In a backhanded way, he was protecting me.”
She nods, thinking about that. “I can understand why you didn’t lead with ‘I’m possessed by a demon that I let out to feed on my cult following every few days. Consensually, of course.’”
I snort out a laugh because, well . . . she’s not exactly wrong. “Consensually being the key word there.”
“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have gone back to your cottage if you’d gone with that instead of the bird thing,” she teases. More seriously, she says, “I know you were telling the truth about the rest. The lie about the one thing just made me question everything, especially when things were moving so fast and felt so big. It seemed like I was giving you the best and worst of me, but you’d left out this major part of who you are because, watching those videos Sean showed me”—she turns her head and cups her mouth, talking over her shoulder in a rough, low voice—“and the ones I’ve obsessively watched since”—she grins and continues normally—“I could tell how important that onstage side of you is. You’re magnificent up there, Ben.”
Her praise means more to me than selling a million albums ever could.
“I still have to hype myself up to actually go out there,” I admit, telling the truth to someone besides Sean and Trent for the first time in forever. “I get nervous my voice will crack, my costume will fail, or that people will decide I’m a poser and boo me off the stage.”
She wraps her arms around my waist and lays her head on my shoulder. “That would never happen. Your voice and your presence are what magic is made of, and everyone in the audience feels that they’re part of that magic because of you.” She pauses, rolls her eyes, and adds, “Fine, Sean and Trent help too. But mostly it’s you.”