The Revolution (28 page)

I rub my hand softly over the shield of his body that protects his beating heart. “No. You did nothing wrong. They forced your hand and you took the offer. You made a life, Kaz. Now that life has been spun around. But you don’t owe them anything. Nothing. Not even another chance if you don’t want to give them one.”

“But you said it—my life has been spun upside down. Things were easier, more black and white. The feelings I held for them were buried. On purpose. Now the lines are gray and I’m expected to push my pain away like it never happened. Just open my arms as if we’re the same people we once were.”

Moving, I mold against his side. His arm comes around and holds me close. “The world’s not gray, black, or white. It’s whatever color you want it to be.”

“Red, for how I feel about you.” He kisses my head. “I worry.”

“About?” I whisper.

“Us.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re dangerous for my heart too.”

“Red seems fitting then.”

“I love you, Lara.”

“I love you too, Kaz.”

My eyes grow heavy, and I’m lulled to sleep from the sound of his heartbeat.

I awake to the sound of dishes clanging around in the kitchen. A smile makes its way quickly across my face.
Kaz
. The night was too fleeting. My time with Kaz feels much the same. Only a few weeks together and then our world has crumbled again. I want more time. I want easy and relaxed. I want Kaz in the morning just as the sun rises playing his guitar at the edge of the bed. Coffee in hand and the scent of us all around. I want late-night chats on the patio and grilling outside as if we’re a normal couple, as if we didn’t overcome huge obstacles to be together, or have more to face. I get up and walk down the hall, thrill to see him again coursing through me.

When I enter the living room, I’m not sure who screams first, but Lane’s is louder and about ten octaves higher than mine. Jumping back, my arms go to cover my body. My knees knock together. “Oh my God.” I turn and run back to the bedroom.

His voice trails behind me though I can hear the distance growing between. “Oh my God, is right.”

I grab my robe from the bathroom and swing it around my shoulders. My heart is still racing when I return to the kitchen. Laughter greets me first and then Lane says, “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Oh good Lord, let’s pretend that never happened. Okay?”

“It will be hard to forget. I may not be attracted to women, but your perky boobies are so cute. I almost want to dress them in little pink nipple bows and throw some lipstick on them.”

“Ugh.” I roll my eyes, wishing this morning could start over. My head drops down. “Please don’t talk about my boobs. My humiliation level is already at an all-time high after that incident in there.”

Kaz grabs the belt of my robe and pulls me to him where he stands in front of the stove. “I like your perky boobies if that makes a difference.”
My sweet, man.

“It does indeed make a difference. A huge one,” I say, rubbing up against the front of him.

He leans down and whispers into my ear, “They’re the best tits I’ve ever seen, tasted, touched, licked, and I plan to do that again later. Do you want me to do that to you, Lara?”

Kaz’s words are aphrodisiacs and my body reacts, pressing against him, and closing my eyes.

“I’m still here, just in case you forgot,” Lane says from behind me.

I smile, and then open my eyes. “I could never forget about you, Lane. Why are you here so early though?” Kaz hands me a mug of coffee, just the way I like it—two sugars, two creamers—and I take a hot sip. “Thank you.”

He smiles. “You’re welcome. Hungry?”

“Starved.” Kaz turns back to the eggs he’s scrambling while I steal a piece of bacon cooling on the paper towels on the counter. “So hungry.”

Lane takes two pieces and goes to the barstools at the counter and sits. “Are we really doing this whole love-bird thing? I’m not griping. It’s good to see this lady so happy. She’s practically floating. Whatever you’re doing, Kaz, keep it up.”

“I’ll keep it up. No worries there,” he replies so casually, so comfortable in the kitchen. I love it.

Lane’s palms land down on the marble. “Okay, on that note, I’ve got work to do.”

Kaz turns and asks, “Not staying for breakfast?”

Walking into the living room, he replies, “I’m not sure I can handle the ooey-gooey sexy sweetness. You know what they say. If you can’t handle the heat, get out of the kitchen. Tootles. I’ll see you in the office in a bit, missy.”

“I’ll be in shortly.”

Kaz yells, “Maybe an hour or so. I have plans.”

“I don’t need to hear about those plans,” Lane calls over his shoulder, “or any screaming from the bedroom, so keep it down. Or better yet, I’ll go visit Calliope today.”

Laughing, I say, “Probably best.”

When the office door closes, Kaz puts the eggs onto a platter, then turns to me and says, “C’mere.”

“It might be safer to keep this bar between us.”

“It definitely is, but c’mere anyway.” Then he gives me that look. The one that says all the things we don’t say out loud, one that communicates the hunger inside that craves me in ways I’m willing to give in to. I walk into his arms and we stand there wrapped in each other’s arms. “I fly out for a few shows on the East Coast tomorrow.” I try to lean back and look at him, but his arms tighten around me. “I don’t want you here alone. Will you come with me?”

“Only because you don’t want me here alone?”

“No, because I’m a selfish bastard and want you with me.”

“And?”

“And yes, I don’t want to worry about your safety.”

Closing my eyes and with my cheek pressed to him, I take in his shower-fresh skin mixed with his musky cologne. The depth of the musical notes make me take in another inhale, wanting to take him all in and hold him close to my heart. “I can’t.”

“You can’t or won’t?”

This time I lean back and he lets me until our eyes connect. His hands lower down my back while still holding on to me. “I can’t. I would if I could. I have three projects in the final phase of completion, so I need to be here for them. How long will you be gone?”

“A week. I can fly back between shows. It’s just tiring to do that.”

I run the tip of my finger over his bottom lip and then lift up and kiss the dip in his chin. “Don’t do that. I need you rested when you come back.” I follow the kiss with a gentle little bite.

Grabbing hold of my ass, he lifts me until we’re eye level. “Don’t you worry about me, baby. I’ll have plenty of energy for you.” We kiss good and hard.

The tips of my toes touch the ground and my feet roll the rest of the way down. “I’m still starved, but now I’m not sure if it’s for the food or you.”

“Not sure, huh? I think I need to swing things in my favor.” Scooping me up, he says, “The eggs can wait. You’re all I want to eat for breakfast.”

“What about the bacon?”

“You’re right.” He bends us down and I grab the bacon. “We definitely need to bacon in bed.”

I burst out laughing. “I love that bacon has become a verb.” Taking a piece, I feed it to him as he takes us back into the bedroom.

With the door shut and locked, he sets me on the bed. “Question.”

“Okay,” I answer.

“Lane is working. Are you going to be able to keep it down?”

“Pfft. Me?
You
are the problem.” My robe falls open on one side.

“Oh really?” His gaze is otherwise occupied when my chest is exposed.

I like his eyes on me, so I don’t move. “Yeah, really, noisy pants. I can be quiet, but I have a feeling you’re going to be yelling the f-word before I even get off.”

“God, you’re so fucking cute with your f-word and perky tits.”

“Perky. Perky. Perky. One day they won’t be so perky. What then?”

His gaze slides up to mine. Maneuvering over me, his hips dip down to meet mine. “Then we live happily ever after.”

My breath quietly catches in my chest and my heart stops. “Kaz,” I say half warning, half worried, “don’t say things like that.”

“I can say how I feel. You should too.”

“I don’t want to be hurt.”

“I will never hurt you.”

“How do you know? How can you say that when we’ve been together a month.”

His weight settles on top of me when he kisses my cheek. Then my mouth. And then my nose. “I can say that because I knew the minute I saw you that everything I’ve been through, the life I’ve lived, has led me straight to you.”

I want to live in his words, his confidence, and that world. But my life has been shaken, my once strong beliefs turned inside out. Finding faith has been hard, but I’ve been doing it every day. Some days I need a little more reassurance. I rub over his shoulders and up his neck. “How can you be so sure?”

“I was born from royalty and destined for greatness.” He speaks with such confidence and I’m completely captivated. “My family raised me to believe in destiny. I thought it was playing piano. I thought it was coming to America and planting roots. I thought it was when I joined the band. It wasn’t.”

“When was it?”

“It’s been almost a year to the day since we first met. You didn’t notice me—”

“I noticed.”

He smiles gentle like his expression. “You were in and out of my life for too long, our timing off. Six weeks ago, you were wearing a purple shirt and tight dark blue jeans. Your sunglasses were on your head and Rochelle had told you she’d be in the car.” He whispers the rest. “Tell me, Lara, why didn’t you leave with her that day at sound check? Why were you still standing there as if waiting for your own destiny to arrive?”

“Because I was.” The admission sends my thoughts to relive every stolen moment we shared before I knew that my soul mate was right in front of me all along.

I HATED EVERY
minute of our goodbye. I’d prefer a
see ya around
much better. But after the death of a band member, goodbyes are always said just in case there’s not another chance.

Sitting across from Rochelle and Holli with an empty pitcher of Sangria between us, I wait for someone to say something. They’ve been too quiet for too long. “We should do something,” I suggest. “To take our minds off the guys.”

Holli smiles and holds up her glass. “I thought we were.”

“It’s not working,” I reply.

“You’ve got it bad.”

“No worse than you, my friend.” Rochelle elbows her playfully.

She sits up and sighs. “We’ve been spoiled by them being home.”

Rochelle says, “I have the night. Why don’t we go dancing or somewhere else with some atmosphere?”

Holli replies, “Somewhere not so paparazzi ridden.”

Rochelle agrees.

I say, “Somewhere where we can have fun but still talk.”

THIRTY MINUTES LATER
we’re sitting at a table in the back of The Hotel Café, a singer is on stage playing guitar with two band mates—a drummer and a guitarist. The music varies from Frank Sinatra to
The Church
. They’re good and not so loud we can’t talk.