Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“Get the fuck out here, Laird,” someone shouts from the other side of the locked door. He barely has time to clean up before the banging starts again, rattling the door on its hinges.
Zipping his jeans, he connects his gaze with mine, that smirk just about doing me in all over again. “Worth it,” he says with a chuckle.
“I love you.” I sneak the words in before he opens the door.
Looking back, he winks. “See you out there.”
As Faris Wheel is introduced under the setting Phoenix sun, I rush down the steps to find a place in the audience. Tugging at the hem of my short skirt, I’m hoping the flush in my cheeks fades before anyone is the wiser to what Laird and I just did. Does it matter? No. I’m still learning to let go of what others think, though.
The grin he’s given me hasn’t worn off as I weave through security and find my seat. It’s not needed. I have no intention of sitting during his show. Jet Crow’s wife is next to me, opening her arms and embracing me as if I’m already part of the family.
With The Resistance and The Crow Brothers playing after Faris Wheel, everyone is busy, including the significant others backstage. It’s nice she came out for the opening band, so I say, “Thanks for being here.”
She says, “I’m glad I could come to the show. I’m flying back tonight. Just a quick trip to support Jet and the band.” Leaning over, she adds, “And I’m a huge fan of Faris Wheel.”
“Me too.” I laugh, but it’s true. I’m Laird’s biggest fan and can’t wait to watch him perform. Seeing him shine like the star he is never gets old.
Nikki takes center stage, stealing everyone’s attention but mine. Laird’s eyes find me just as he kicks off the first song in full rock-god mode. It’s not a side of him I see often, and one that he hasn’t embodied in a while. He claims without our love to ground him, he’s floated through life. I understand because I was doing the same—half living, barely surviving, always searching—without my other half. God, I never thought I’d sound so cheesy, but I need him to breathe, and he needs me to help his heart beat. I’m so glad we share the same universe again because I’ve never been happier.
It would be easy to say we were built on sexual attraction alone since we have that in abundance, especially watching him now on stage. Tousled hair from my fingers running through it, hard abs and muscles defined that I flat-out licked backstage, broad shoulders that bear my weight when he wants me as a snack, and a face Aphrodite would create for her own personal taste. Good lord.
Yet that’s not how my gentle giant stole my heart all over again. It’s the way he looks at me like I’m his world, kisses me until my lips are swollen, makes sure my pleasure has peaked before he considers his own, and compliments me when I least expect it—in the kitchen cooking with no makeup on, baggy clothes, and dirty hair or just getting back from yoga, sweaty and flushed skin. It’s in the every day for us, not the big events, but the little moments that have always tied us together again.
When the spotlight hits him, he pulls his shirt off three songs in to catcalls and whistles, wearing confidence like a second skin. He doesn’t realize how he affects women with so little effort. They’ll never experience his heart like I have, though. His love runs deep, and his care for me is endless.
Moving across the stage, he kneels in front of me, playing his guitar with those fast-moving fingers. His eyes are set on mine, and he wears a smile that’s gone rogue with naughty intentions. God, I love this man.
Weeks later . . .
“I’m never getting you back to New York, am I?” If I didn’t know my best friend as well as I do, I would think Marina was trying to guilt me. I’m used to recognizing the tactics from my mom.
Marina’s not like that. She’s happy for me, but she’s also grieving because she misses me. I miss her, too.
I recognize the stages she’s going through. I went through them too when she got married. And even though I’m not even engaged, we both know where this is leading to with Laird. It’s only a matter of time from here.
Marina and I grew up together. Spent every day and most nights together over the years. And although our lives have taken different paths, we always had each other when the other needed us most. School, boys, breakups, lost jobs, failed auditions, lost loves, love found again, and now she has a husband and children.