Getting on a plane had lost its thrill a while ago, but now dread curled deep in my belly.
While a quiet night at home at Keyton’s place was what I wanted, there were obligations that came along with who I was, and they weren’t all bad. Holden had disappeared again and Emily was recovering from a cold and had sequestered herself to make sure none of the rest of us got sick. She was power chugging orange juice and throat lozenges.
Keyton’s trip felt like it had stretched on forever and happened too quickly all at the same time, signaling the countdown to my tour.
After a reunion in my suite, complete with a toe-curling orgasm, we’d put ourselves back together enough to be presentable. My phone dictated all nowadays, since Holden had taken his disappearing act to the next level.
I hoped he wasn’t this distracted once the tour started. Stuck on a tour bus for hours on end, he wouldn’t be able to evade my prodding questions for long. Maybe Emily and I could go on a recon mission when he snuck off with his London friends. I swore if there was a serious issue he was hiding from me, I’d kick his ass for not letting me know.
But tonight was about me and Keyton, not my pain-in-the-ass manager. Keyton and I wouldn’t be cocooned up in my room or his apartment. We needed to come up for air, and I needed at least a full handful of hours to rest my vagina. She’d been put to work. There was never a shortage of things we could do outside our four walls, but now that people knew we were together, wherever he was spotted, they looked for me, which made incognito mode harder. So tonight we had dinner reservations. Who wouldn’t want to show off this well-tailored piece of man candy?
As we walked through the kitchen, some of the sous chefs and other kitchen staff turned to track us past the flaming pans and stainless steel shelving units to the chef’s table at the back of the kitchen.
“Holden asked for this as a favor. The restaurant wanted a big name drop before the Michelin star team came in to review. We don’t have to stay the whole time.”
“Let me enjoy a night out with my girlfriend.” He whispered into my ear and slipped his hand around me, resting it at the small of my back.
The tingle from the touch traveled up my spine.
Hearing him saying that made me feel like I was back in high school, going out to dinner with the star football player. In a way, I was still that girl.
Other than my mom, Piper, Felicia and Spencer, he was probably the only one who could see me that way—the real me without all the other larger-than-life things surrounding me, like Eric following behind us like I’d picked him up from the Secret Service surplus store.
The maître d' opened the door to the secluded room of half-windows overlooking the kitchen.
Eric procured a chair out of thin air like a street magician and plopped it outside the door.
I leaned out of the doorway. “You can come inside, you know.”
“I’m good.”
“Seriously, Eric. We can see you through the glass door.”
His eyebrow quirked up. “Which means everyone can see you.”
Touché. I’d gotten a lot less lax over the safety and security measures Eric and Holden insisted on since the attack. Walking to Keyton’s was the length of my leash and even that was with my full winter disguise on.
I slipped the menu out of the maître d’s hands and handed it over to him. “At least order dinner, so I don’t feel like a complete asshole.”
“I’m not eating on the job.”
“We’ll ask them to make it to-go.”
He sat firm.
“Please.”
He looked to me with a scowl and hesitated before taking it from my hands and taking his seat.
Keyton and I walked to the four-seater table with tea lights and a low fresh rose arrangement set in the center. He pulled out my chair for me and we glanced at the menu.
“Holy shit, there are twelve courses on this menu, all with wine pairings.”
He laughed and dropped his hand onto my knee under the table.
“You’d be carrying me out of here over your shoulder if I drank this much.”
His fingers brushed along my knee, sending rippling currents of desire flooding through my body. “It sounds like a perfect way to enjoy a nice dinner.” His mouth said nice dinner, but his fingers said ‘pin you against the wall in the bathroom’.
“Maybe we can ask for a to-go version of the meal like Eric’s.”
Before my escape plan could be hatched, the chef walked in and introduced himself.
Keyton and I took turns with the teasing through stolen brushes and caresses under the table. It was playful and fun in a way that felt like a new norm for us. I’d miss this closeness when I flew out on Tuesday, but it wouldn’t be left behind.
We could do this. We could make this work. If we were still here together after a decade of the damage we’d done to each other, we could make it through a few months of separation due to work.
Once his season ended, I wouldn’t mind sharing the tour bus bedroom with him, and he’d make every hotel room and every new city a new adventure. Maybe we could sneak out and explore a little. Disguises and Eric keeping his distance could let us wander the streets of Rome or the Winter Markets in Berlin. The thought of a rush of exhilaration at finding hidden treasures with Keyton helped temper some of the heartache trying to ruin the last couple days we had together.
Leaving the restaurant, he draped his arm over my shoulder and held me close. My puffs of breath hung in the air in front of my face, a perfect reason to snuggle deeper against him, holding onto the front of his coat to warm my fingers.
In the car, he traced my lips with his thumb. “You’re beautiful.”
From the way it made me feel to have him say that, you’d think no one had ever said the words to me before—that people hadn’t screamed them at the top of their lungs in my face. But he said it and he saw me, every part of me.
“When I’m with you. I feel like me. I feel like the real me.”
He brushed his finger down the side of my cheek. “I always want the real you. I want that with you for as long as you’ll have me.”
“And if that was forever?”
“Then your wish is my command.” He captured my lips with his, pouring all of the love and passion into every caress of his tongue or nip of my lips.
“I want us to be real.”
“Real and forever. Two promises that are easy to make.”
I sunk into his hold with my head pressed against his shoulder. My future became clearer—one without the frantic, never stopping life and one with the man I’d given my heart to over a decade ago.
Fuller than I should be and a bit nauseous, I made it to the suite. With the early morning calls we had to make to London, it was easier to stay in my suite than Keyton’s place tonight, although I’d much rather have been there. It felt more like a place people lived, not a place people passed through.
Even with my clothes in the drawers and closets in my bedroom I’d been in for nearly two months, this didn’t feel like a place I’d ever call home.
Keyton’s declaration yesterday had been the final push I’d needed to tell Maddy the truth and to finally decide what path I wanted to be on. Performing had once been all I could think about, but now it wasn’t compatible with the life I wanted. The life I wanted was filled with friends and family, and wasn’t dictated by a demanding schedule and a never-ending list of obligations only leading me further away from the people I loved.