There is only us.
“Holy Jesus, that feels good,” I mutter.
Zach’s hands seem to touch everywhere, rubbing against my breasts, my hips, my neck.
Anchoring my hands on the back of his neck, I tighten around his hard flesh and feel another wave of pleasure crash through me. The earth quakes and my world shatters again.
Or maybe that’s just another plate.
Zach grunts and closes his eyes. I can barely make out the words he says.
“Baby,” I whisper. “Come on my stomach.”
“Yeah,” he whispers, barely audible. Gasping, he pulls out and shoots onto my belly as my body quivers at the loss of him inside me.
“Wow,” he says, breathing hard when he’s done.
“I know,” I breathe. “I mean, I still don’t get where that all comes from.”
“I have no idea.”
“Yeah. You should be sorry,” I say, biting my lip.
He throws his head back in laughter. “Yeah, Harm.” Leaning in, he kisses me. “I’m sorry you’re so hot you make me come so much.”
I shiver. “Never thought of it like that.”
Raking a hand through his hair, he glances at the clock behind us on the microwave.
“Oh, shit. Open mic starts in thirty. We need to roll.”
I wiggle my eyebrows as Zach hands me a towel. “You sure you don’t have one more in you? We could make it quick.”
He licks his lips. “Dammit. Don’t tempt me, Vanderbilt.”
Touching his side, I pull him in. “We can be five minutes late for open mic. Right?”
Chapter 22
Harmony
“I have a confession to make, Harm.”
Zach’s words come as we’re sitting in a bar before my open mic slot is slated to begin.
I get a lump in my throat when he says that, though.
“A confession?” I clear my throat.
He nods slyly. “Shit, Vanderbilt. Maybe I shouldn’t even tell you.”
My eyes bulge and my mind races with possibilities as I stare at the man.
Zach sips his whisky, calm and collected, much like he’s been for the past few weeks.
In fact, things have been going so well that part of me has been starting to wonder if he’s been hiding something. Maybe that’s the imposter syndrome part of me.
Aside from a few night terrors when he’s woken up in a cold sweat, Zach has been almost miraculous to me.
Reaching across the table, I lay my hand on Zach’s forearm arm and squeeze lightly, examining his face.
This is the big drop. There’s got to be something he’s hiding.
Because no man is perfect.
I never thought it was possible that a man would happily make me breakfast after morning sex and insist—INSIST—that I just write songs and play.
But at the same time, I haven’t felt smothered by him. He’s laying the groundwork for starting a new restaurant in Nashville, and although we haven’t discussed it much, I get the feeling that he’s trying to drop anchor here. And who knows if that will involve me.
For now, I’m just enjoying the ride.
“Tell me. What is it?”
Zach clenches up. “Eh, I don’t know if I should tell you now.”
I give his forearm a strong squeeze. “You have to tell me now.”
He takes a pull of his whisky. I watch his Adam’s apple move as he swallows hard, and then he links his fingers in mine.
“I pulled some strings through one of Andrew’s connections and got an agent to come out here for you. She’s not here, but she’s at your nine o’clock venue. I figured this could be a warm-up, and then when we get to Yazzies later tonight—when the agent is there—you’ll be ready to go and you can hit them with the new material you’ve been working on.”
Relief washes through me. “That’s it? That’s your big confession?”
Zach smirks. “What did you think it was?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. It’s just, the way things have been progressing so quickly with us—I don’t know, I’m still waiting for this big reveal from you.”
“You think I’m hiding something?” he asks.
“I don’t know.” I sip my vodka soda nervously. “It’s just . . . you’re like the perfect guy.”
His nostrils flare, and he closes his hand over my wrist.
“I’m far from perfect, Harm.”
“Coulda fooled me.”
He sits up tall. “This is going to make me sound like a crazy person, but I’m going to say it anyway.”
“Say it,” I say with an air of nervousness.
“I feel like I’ve known you for a really long time. Not just this last month. Like much, much longer. When you talk about progressing ‘fast’, it doesn’t even feel like that to me. It feels totally natural. I suppose when a normal person thinks about a relationship, they have the regular progression. A few dates, some dinners. Meet the friends, play texting games. I don’t know. Isn’t that what the kids are doing these days?”
Under the table, I slip out of my shoe and rub my foot against his jeans.
“I’ve never had any idea what the ‘normal kids’ are doing,” I answer, using air quotes. “I don’t believe in normal.”
“Good.” Zach smiles, taking my foot and drawing it onto his lap. I scooch forward so I can comfortably rest my ankle on his leg.
His strong hand presses into the flesh of my foot, sending a wave of surprisingly intense pleasure up my body.
“Wow. Keep doing that,” I say.
“I love hearing you say that.”
Running my tongue along my lips, I smile. “I love hearing me say that too.”
I check my phone for the time, because I don’t want to get called up on stage right now, because I don’t want this foot massage to end. It’s a little weird and unorthodox for Zach to be giving me a stealth foot massage under the table, but then again, like we’ve established, when has anything about us been normal?
Finally, my slot rolls around. Feeling relaxed as ever, I stroll up to the front with my guitar, plug it in, and smile as I turn to face the crowd, lights in my face.
“Hi, y’all,” I say. “I’m Harmony Lane, and I’m going to play a little song I’ve been working on. It’s called ‘Shoulda Found You a Long Time Ago.’ Hope y’all like it.”
Inhaling deeply, I grin and grip the guitar. Over the past few weeks I’ve gotten a lot better at feeling loose on stage, even in front of large numbers of people.
Adrenaline swirls inside me, but it’s the good kind. The kind that helps me sing my heart out.
People in the crowd quiet down a little, and I search for Zach’s face at the back table where I was sitting.
I can’t find him, but I play.
It’s a rhythmic number, and to my surprise the crowd gets into the tune, clapping with the beat during the last verse.
When I finish, my heart pounds from the surprisingly raucous applause, including hoots and hollers, from the audience.
I feel a little lightheaded on my way back to my seat. A college-age girl stops me on my way back to my seat.