He kisses the side of my face and says, “Thank God for that. But for now, we need to talk. Come with me.”
Gus helps me up off the floor. We get ourselves cleaned up and dressed, and then he leads me back upstairs to my bed. Only, instead of getting in it and going back to sleep, he sits me on the edge, his expression severe and it makes my heart start to pound in my chest.
The true test of anything real is a challenge that threatens it.
That’s what I’m staring at right now. Gus’ wary eyes. Something else is coming. I can feel it and it’s making me edgy.
“We’re not doing the duet together anymore.”
I gasp, my eyes widening as my brow pinches in with confusion. “But—” I shake my head, trying to make sense of something that makes no sense to me. “Gus. You brought me in on this.”
Hell, he stalked me down to a public beach before begging me to have dinner with him. But that was before and this is now, and now is apparently all the difference.
He cups my jaw in his large hand. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re good with singing an emotional song together about my ex.” I falter and he pushes on. “Tell me you want to write lyrics about your ex and have us both sing about that.” More silence that I can’t manage to fill with an answer.
I shake my head against him.
“But you said you needed this song. That you needed to get it out there.”
He shrugs helplessly. “That was before you came along. Now everything is different.”
I blink rapidly, swallowing hard and trying to clear the frog from the back of my throat. “How is everything different now?”
“I don’t want to be Florian part two in your life.”
“Oh.” My lips form a little O shape that makes him smile and rub his thumb over it. I nibble on him gently and something about that lightens this moment. Relieves some of my tension. “And what exactly does that mean?”
“It means I’m not singing a duet with you about my ex. It means I’m going to produce that song as a solo on the Wild Minds album because that song is my before and you’re my now. My future, I’m hoping. It means I’ll still put it out there so I can put it to rest, but that’s the end of it.”
My face begins to fall toward the ground, but he’s still holding my cheek and I don’t get far. He searches my eyes, but I’m guarded. Unsure.
“How long were in that music room?” I jest and he grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Naomi, you’ve been singing other peoples’ songs for too long, baby. You’ve been doing backup and before that, you were singing Florian’s songs. I know you wrote them with him, but they were on his albums. Not yours.” My eyes grow glassy and he leans down, pressing a kiss to my lips. Dropping to his knees, he stares up into me. “I would love nothing more than to write a new song with you. Sing and perform with you always. But tonight, you talked about how you need to work on yourself. How it’s time you do something about that, and I agree. It’s time,” he emphasizes. “You have a lot of demons, Naomi Kent, and you need to slay each and every one of them. You need to start writing. You need to create your own music with your own words and no man should be a part of that. You feel what I’m saying here?”
I do feel what he’s saying. What he’s trying to do for me.
And in my heart of hearts, in the very pit of my stomach, I know he’s right. About all of it. About his song and everything else.
It is time.
For both of us.
No more running scared. Time to brave my storm. No matter what’s to come.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gus
* * *
Notes have been coursing through my veins and out my mouth and fingers since dawn. Naomi fell asleep pretty quickly after we finished talking. I tucked us both back into bed and she was out. Still is.
I wasn’t as fortunate as her.
The moment the rain stopped, and the sun started to warm the sky, my eyes popped open and that was it. I came back downstairs and played out some things in Naomi’s music room, recording it all on my phone. But even now, hours later as I stand in her kitchen cooking up some eggs and bacon—another reason why I love this girl. She has bacon in her freezer—I still find myself pausing every few moments to scribble some notes down on the pad I have next to the stove.
The smile hasn’t left my face all morning.
Because for the first time in my life, I feel like I know what I’m doing with it.
That it’s really and truly mine.
I have direction. I have purpose. I have an incredible woman upstairs who says she’s mine. I feel like I’ve put so much of my past behind me. Finally set it to rest, and the lightness that fills me is infectious.
“Naomi,” I call out loud. “Get your pretty ass up and come have some breakfast with me.” I hear her groan from upstairs and I chuckle. “Come on, baby. It’s almost ready.”
“Gus,” she bellows back with a touch of irritation, groans again, and then whines in resignation, “Fine. Give me a few minutes.”
I finish up the eggs, turning off the stove, and covering the pan with a lid just as the doorbell rings. I swear, every goddamn time I’m here, we have an uninvited guest.
“Naomi,” I yell, only I catch the sound of water going in the bathroom and she doesn’t answer this time.
The bell rings again and I walk over to the front door, tapping on the screen. The second the image comes to life, my jaw tics and my fists clench. I take another second to rein in the sudden explosive fury that rages through me like a tornado, and when I think I’ve got my shit in check, I open the door.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I resist the overwhelming urge to reach out and punch Florian Heart in the face or break his neck or strangle the air he doesn’t deserve to breathe from his lungs.
He stares at me, his expression hardening as the silent seconds tick by while he takes in my low slung jeans, shirtless chest, and sleep—and sex—ruffled hair. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he growls, and I laugh because I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question.
I smile arrogantly at the pick. “Isn’t that my question to you?”
“Where is Naomi?”
“None of your business. In fact, it’s great that you’re here, man. It’ll save me the bullshit hassle of having to deal with you later. I think it’s pretty obvious that Naomi and I are together. So my message to you is simple. Stay the fuck away from her.” I cock an eyebrow, glaring just a bit to drive my point. “I’m not fucking around on that either. It’s a threat. She told me everything, and because I care about her, I won’t kill you where you stand. Even though you and I both know you deserve it. Consider this an act of mercy and leave. And while you’re at it, stop calling her. Stop texting her. Stop arranging dinners or whatever the hell else your creepy, sneaky ass is up to. She’s done with you.”
He grins malevolently. “That’s a cute little speech there. I almost feel bad for you. Almost.” He runs a hand through his dark hair, and I know my cute little speech got to him. “You think she’s with you, Gus? You think she’s yours?” Now he laughs and my teeth clench at the smug as shit sound. “You have no idea how wrong you are. She may fuck you to try to get back at me, but you’re not with her. Not really, anyway. Sooner or later, she’ll be back with me where she belongs. She knows it. I know it. And I bet you do too. She deserves better than some second in command, partying, womanizing asshole who is hung up on his brother’s wife.”