He cast me a soft, heartbreaking grin. “Hope floats?”
“It does.” I chewed at my bottom lip, cautious but knowing we couldn’t continue to live behind the walls. “Is that what you’re feeling? Hope?”
He smoothed his palm down my bare shoulder and arm, chasing the shivers he elicited, gliding all the way down until he threaded our fingers together. He brought our hands up between us, fiddling with them like he needed a distraction while he searched for the truth inside.
“Scared to.”
His expression moved through so many things.
His grief.
His regret.
The possibility.
His lips pursed for a beat. “It’s hard for me to accept this isn’t wrong. To believe I’m not stealing what should never be mine.”
A swell of sadness coiled in my stomach.
“I know it’s scary. I’m scared, too. And I know it’s not the same. Not at all. But I think somehow . . . somehow, we were purposed for this. For this second chance.”
Crushing sorrow held him. A physical, living entity. He pulled our twined hands to my face, caressing my jaw over and over again. As if he were looking for comfort for himself and the only thing he knew how to do was give it to me.
Keeping his own joy under lock and key.
His jaw clenched. “Don’t deserve your kids. Don’t deserve you. And I just keep thinking I’m setting myself up to lose you. To lose them. But that doesn’t change a thing because I still know I’ll be fighting to keep you until the bitter end.”
“I already told you, I’m here. We’re here. You want my honest?” I asked.
Tearing down the walls.
Crossing the divide.
“Of course, Mia.” For a beat, his eyes dropped closed, and then he was looking at me again. Pinning me with the ferocity of his gaze. “You have become the only truth I know.”
I gulped around the magnitude.
And I offered him mine.
“I’m not sure I know how to go on without you, Leif Godwin. This love? It’s one you made me feel for the very first time.”
Releasing my hand, he reached to brush his fingers through my hair. “You are the light I stopped believing existed.”
“And you are my completion.”
We stared.
Prisoners of the confession.
Freed by them the same.
I hesitated, then asked, “How is this going to work? You have your band. Your dreams.”
God, I’d never even allowed myself to hope to get this far, let alone thought of the logistics of making it work.
What I would do about California.
What I would do about Nixon.
“You wanna be with a mediocre drummer?” He let it come off like a tease.
I shifted, nudging him to roll him onto his back, and I climbed up to straddle him.
He grunted approval.
Those hands on my waist and my heart in his hands. “No, Leif, I want to be with an incredible drummer. A drummer who steals my breath. With a musician whose voice sings to my soul. With a wonderful man who has completely stolen my heart. Kissing you feels like kissing the stars.”
A tremor rolled through his body. His features darkened in hatred.
A quick, stark shift to the atmosphere.
“Have to go back to L.A., Mia. Put an end to some old business.”
Fear curled and lifted and rose.
Dread infected my blood.
“What does that mean?”
God. What if he was talking about putting himself in danger?
I wanted to press him.
For details.
For his intentions.
But he was silencing them when he reached up and gripped me by the side of the face. “It means I have to put to rest my past. It’s the only way I can come back and live for you.”
Disquiet clashed with a surge of love.
He let his palm glide down my jaw, my throat, until he was splaying his big hand over my chest. A touch that snuffed out the worry.
“Stay here with me, Mia. In the south. Let’s make this our home. Be with me.”
I leaned forward, kissed his mouth. “You are the only place I want to be.”Thirty-TwoLeif“Dude, you killed it! Knew you were gonna rock this shit out of bounds. We rewrote the rules on this album. Pure perfection.” Ash punched me in the shoulder, all grins.
Pride pulled tight at my chest.
Not something I was used to feeling. But it was there.
“Turned out pretty good,” I told him, barely able to contain my smile.
“Pretty good? That shit is brilliant. Best album of the year, baby. Bet my house, we’re going to be getting called up to an entirely different kind of stage. Willow and I are about to redecorate—with Grammy’s.”
Lyrik chuckled from where he leaned against the massive row of sound equipment.
“For the first time in my life, I think I’m gonna agree with Ash here,” he razzed, smirking at his friend. “Album is beast.”
Ash’s brows lifted to the sky. “Agreeing for the first time? Now that’s damn ridiculous considering I’ve been telling you bitches that Sunder is the best band in the land since I was about sixteen. You just gettin’ on the train now?”