Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“Both.” There it was, the tiniest smile. “What do you want, Nixon?”
“You.”
“We tried that once already, remember? Now, go get ready. I know you’re supposed to be on stage soon.” She lifted her chin.
Because she knew my schedule. Hope flared in my chest.
“We can do this in my dressing room, or right out here in the hallway. I don’t care.” That was a lie. I clearly preferred my dressing room, but I’d make do.
“And if I choose not at all?” Her voice softened.
“I’ll stand here as long as it takes. I just need you to hear me out.” I was going to smack Jonas upside the back of the head when I got ahold of him. If he’d warned me, I would have been prepared with something better than that.
“You’re really going to hold up the show? Make an entire stadium full of fans wait?” She shook her head. “What will Jonas say?”
“I’m good with it,” Jonas said from behind me.
“Me too,” Quinn added.
“You’re not helping,” Zoe replied, her gaze still locked on me.
“I’d argue otherwise,” Jonas countered.
“God, I’ve missed you,” I whispered. My hands formed fists to keep from reaching for her. “I’ve missed every single thing about you.”
Zoe sighed in complete exasperation. “Fine. Ten minutes.”
“Fifteen,” I argued.
“Nine.” She arched a brow.
I muttered a curse but nodded. Something was better than nothing.
“Don’t worry, I’ll watch the kids,” Jonas offered as Zoe and I headed for my dressing room.
She gave Chris a hug, which he quickly ended when he saw the look on my face, then she flung open my dressing room door and marched inside with me close on her heels. She looked around briefly, then hummed and sat on the edge of the counter.
“What were you expecting to find?”
“New Shannon.” She braced her palms on the counter as I approached. “Stop right there. That’s close enough. What the hell was that out there?”
“There’s no new Shannon.” I halted.
“Oh, come on, I know Monica was assigned to be your…Shannon.”
“Her name is Monica?”
“What did you think it was?” She drummed her fingers on the edge of the counter.
“Wannabe Shannon.” I shrugged. “But she’s not you. There’s no new you.” My voice dropped.
“At work or in your personal life?” Every line of her body radiated tension. Anger.
That little flare of hope sparked brighter. She was jealous. “There’s been no one since you. There won’t be anyone after you. It’s just you.”
She blinked, quickly schooling her features, which I deserved.
“I’m in love with you, Zoe.” I started all over again.
“Stop saying that!”
“No. It’s true. I’m in love with you. We have to figure this out.”
“Why? Because we have a ridiculous house together?” She lifted her brows. “Or because Monica doesn’t know how to make tea? Or do a good enough job at sucking your—”
“Because you still love me!” There was no way a woman like Zoe gave her heart away and then yanked it back so quickly.
“Don’t be so sure about that.” She folded her arms across her chest.
Damn, the woman was a walking piece of frustration, and she knew exactly how to get under my skin.
“I told you I would fuck this up. That I didn’t know how to do this.” I motioned between us. “And I’m not against parking a camper on the front lawn of the Colorado house like I threatened, but you haven’t been back there since I left.”
“Keeping tabs on me?”
“Yes!”
“Why?” she fired back.
“Because you’re mine!”
“The hell I am!” Every line of her body went taut.
“Fine, then I’m yours! Better now?” I ripped my hand over my hair.
Her eyes fluttered shut. “Nixon, we can’t do this to each other. We just can’t. Even if you can take it, I can’t. It physically hurts to be this close and not touch you.”
“Then touch me.” Four strides—that’s all it took to haul her into my arms. I poured everything I had into that kiss as our mouths met and opened, my longing, my need, and my love. It was all there for her to do whatever she wanted with it. She laced her hands behind my neck and kissed me back like it might be the last time.
At the bittersweet taste of that desperation, I pulled back, gentling the strokes of my tongue to lazy swirls around hers.
“I missed you every minute of every day,” I said between kisses.
She shook her head and pushed at my chest. “Nothing’s changed.” Her eyes met mine, and there was so much sadness mixed into the anger that an ache developed in my throat.
My body screamed in protest, and my heart lurched as I put precious inches between us, but my head was in control this time. “Everything has changed,” I assured her. “Everything but the way I feel about you. I’m in therapy. I’m sober. I’m not sleeping with Monica or anyone else. I don’t need you to keep me sober, Zoe, I just need you, period.”