A Love Song for Dreamers (Rivals Book 3)

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A Love Song for Dreamers (Rivals Book 3) Page 17

by Piper Lawson


  A throat clearing has me pulling back before I can do something about it—Miranda.

  Elle’s devouring a sandwich, eyes glued to the stage, and even our funder looks entertained.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have some calls to make about marketing. This”—Jeffrey nods to us—“I can sell.”

  My stomach flips as I take Tyler in again, the rest of the room falling away.

  There’s a tic in his jaw, and he looks hesitant for the first time since he got here. “The ring I gave you—do you still have it?”

  I reach into my neckline and pull out the chain, the ring I’ve been wearing since I returned to New York dangling on the end.

  “That’s from our past. I have something to give you for our future. And I want a future with you. I even talked to your dad about it.”

  So that’s why Dad was acting so weird on the phone. “I bet that was interesting.”

  Tyler chuckles softly. “I told him I’m never letting you go again, and if he has a problem with it, he can go through me.”

  He reaches into his pocket and produces a box.

  My heart hammers against my back, and I’m feeling lightheaded.

  Then he kneels.

  I’ve always felt at my most powerful and powerless on a stage, but this moment with Tyler Adams on his knees for me puts every other moment to shame.

  “Annie, you’ve always been the best part of my life. Even when I tried not to let you in, you were there. So bright, so damned fresh, and you believed in me when no one did. When I didn’t.”

  His beautiful voice cracks, and I’m trembling from his words, from anticipation of what he’ll say next.

  “I might have come from nothing, but I’ve been around the damned world. Which means I can say without a doubt that you are the best part of it, Six. I know we both have dreams, but mine aren’t worth living unless I can live them with you.”

  He flips the lid on the box, and the sparkling contents almost blind me.

  “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I will do whatever it takes to convince you to spend your life with me.

  “I’ll trade you. The old ring for a new one.”

  It’s gorgeous, reflecting every bit of light in this space, shining every emotion in his eyes back at me.

  “No.”

  Tyler’s face tightens in alarm. “No what?”

  I rush on. “No, I won’t give you the old ring back. Because our past is part of us.

  “But you’re my best friend. The only boy I ever loved. The person who challenges me, who‘s there for me, who makes me feel like I am everything I ever need to be. So I guess I could marry you.”

  Tyler’s face is so full of fierceness I could explode.

  He slips the ring onto my finger, and it feels like forever.

  Then he rises, grabbing me again in a kiss that’s hot enough I might melt onto this stage.

  “Jewelry whore!”

  I reluctantly tear my lips from Tyler’s and cut a look toward Elle in the audience.

  “You trying to steal my roomie, Adams?” she calls.

  “It’s done.” I love the satisfaction in his tone, the possessiveness.

  “I love you so damned much.”

  My blood heats. “I love you too.”

  Something lands on the stage, and I realize it’s a sock.

  “For your bedroom door,” Elle tosses as she turns back up the aisle with a wave.

  Tyler’s grin is delicious. “Tell me we’re done here.”

  I meet Miranda’s gaze. “I think we’ve accomplished what we set out to.”

  “Agreed,” my mentor says. “Annie, we’ll talk tomorrow. Congratulations, Mr. Adams. And I don’t mean about the role.” She smiles and turns to head out.

  I don’t get to see her leave because Tyler’s yanking me against him.

  “Come here,” he murmurs against my lips.

  Then he’s kissing me, and my brows shoot up my face.

  But I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back with everything in me.

  I’m here on a damned New York stage, and all I care about is the man holding me, the one who’s always held me up, always made me feel like enough.

  Like we’re enough.

  And despite how far we’ve come, something tells me we’re only getting started.

  22

  I wake up in the morning, and the bed smells like Tyler.

  I roll over to find him gone, but there’s a sticky note on the pillow.

  Morning, Six.

  I grin as I shift out of bed, tugging down the hem of my T-shirt and stepping around the overnight bag he brought. I head out to the living room.

  “This for me?” I hold up the sticky note.

  Tyler turns from where he’s standing at the counter, the smell of coffee wafting through our place. “Mhmm. How’d I know you’d have the ingredients for Rice Krispies squares?”

  “It’s a bribe, isn’t it?” I shift in front of him, winding my arms around his neck. “So I don’t tell my dad I woke up in your bed.” I cock my head. “Okay, technically my bed. But still.”

  His hands slide down my sides, making every part of me wake up under his touch even before he presses his lips to my jaw. “You’re going to wake up in my bed every day, always.”

  He hitches me up on the counter and kisses me, taking his time. I press myself against him, threading my hands into his hair. He tugs me closer to the edge, my panties the only thing between us.

  And they’re getting damp fast.

  “Elle could walk in,” I protest half-heartedly.

  “Elle’s out for the day,” Tyler mutters between kisses. “And we have to make up for lost time. I’m going to have you on every surface of this apartment.”

  Holy.

  His fingers trace a path up the inside of my thigh, and I hiccup a breath when they slip under my panties and tease me.

  “Oh.”

  “Oh what?”

  “Ohhh, I’ve missed that.”

  He chuckles before pressing two fingers inside me. My nails dig into his shoulders as my body contracts around him.

  “You’re so wet. Think I’m going to slide right in.”

  “Do it,” I mumble.

  Tyler works off his jeans, no boxer briefs underneath. He’s already impressively hard, his abs flexing as if it takes all of him not to impale me right now. He pulls me to the edge of the counter, brushing his tip against my needy skin.

  I kiss him with love, with need, with the desperation that never seems to be far away when it comes to us… but with a kind of comfort that’s new.

  We have nothing but time.

  Tyler eases into me as if he believes that too. I’m balanced on the edge of the counter, my legs tight around him, holding on to keep from falling in more ways than one.

  “Nothing’s has ever felt as good as you,” he murmurs against my mouth. “You’re made for me, Annie.”

  Every stroke is beautiful satisfaction and torture at once, and I need more. He rasps as he builds us both up, fingers digging into my ass as he fucks me.

  It’s beautiful. It’s messy. It’s us.

  When I come around him, he can’t hold back, and he comes too, groaning his release against my shoulder while my fingers play in his hair, the last of the aftershocks running through me.

  “Well, I feel better,” I murmur.

  He grins. “Same.”

  “Good, because we have a busy day.”

  “We do?”

  “I have to do work things.”

  “You can’t take today off? Because I’m going to need you again in two hours max.”

  Arousal washes over me. “No. But you can come with me. Maybe we can fit in a quickie at lunch.”

  “‘Bring your fiancé to work’ day. Sold.”

  I bite my cheek because the thought of bringing Tyler to my anything as my fiancé makes me so insanely happy.

  “Tell me you’re done by five,” Tyler says.

  I trac
e his handsome jaw with a finger. “Should be possible. Why?”

  “Because I have a realtor lined up to show us a couple places. I love Elle too, but we can’t live here long term.”

  “The rent is great.”

  “I don’t care. I’m getting us something nice for as long as we’re in New York.”

  “Fine. Are you going to record here?”

  “I thought I might get involved in your dad’s label. Both as a business proposition and for my own music. But only if it won’t come between you.”

  I shake my head. “Not at all. He’d love that. And I would too.”

  Something buzzes from across the room—my phone.

  “Shit. It’s Dad.”

  We didn’t call him back after getting engaged last night because we wanted a few moments to ourselves.

  “He knows you’re here. If I don’t answer, he’s going to think we were having sex.”

  Tyler’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Please don’t answer.”

  I pull down my T-shirt and straighten my hair. Then I squeeze past him and grab the phone, sliding the bar so the video call connects.

  “Hey, you guys!” I say but frown as I take in the unfamiliar backdrop, my dad’s pale face, and Haley’s sweaty one. “Did you paint? Oh my God! You’re in the hospital. You had the baby!”

  “Once we finally got here, he was out in three hours,” Haley sighs.

  Tyler appears behind me, and my dad’s eyes narrow while Haley looks delighted, the baby in her arms.

  We gush over baby Mason and get all the details.

  “Nice work,” Tyler says, and my dad grins.

  He looks beyond proud. “How about you two? Any news we should know?”

  “Well, we cast someone in the lead for the musical.”

  I swear my dad looks disappointed. “Thats it?”

  “And…” I hold up the ring.

  “Tyler. Tell me you didn’t go down on one knee,” Dad snorts.

  Haley shoves his shoulder. “Don’t act like you’re too cool for that. You’ve done it. You even cried.”

  My jaw drops.

  “I didn’t cry,” he says.

  “Your eyes were shining.”

  “Trick of the light.”

  “Anyway.” Haley rolls her eyes, turning back to us. “We’re so happy for you both.”

  “Thanks Haley, we’re happy for you, too. All of you.”

  Tyler clears his throat. “Jax, we have a couple of weeks before we really gear up for the musical. I’d like to use your studio if I can book time.”

  “You got it.”

  When we hang up and I toss the phone back on the table, feeling the only man I’ve ever loved pull me against him again, I’ve never been more content.

  “I’m ready for those Rice Krispies squares now,” I sigh.

  Tyler’s eyes crinkle. “Only if I can eat them off you.”

  Epilogue

  “It’s gone. It’s actually gone,” Annie mutters, lifting pillows to search the couch in our living room.

  I roll up the cuffs on my dress shirt as I cross the bright, airy apartment from the master bedroom. “Six, tell me you haven’t lost your ring.”

  She crosses to me, her face a mask of shock.

  Then she pulls her hand out to show me the diamond glinting on her finger.

  Relief slams into me, along with pleasure.

  Every time I see it on her hand, I feel that way. Even though we’ve been engaged for three months, I haven’t gotten over knowing she’s mine.

  Beck teases that it won’t go away until she’s signed the certificate and she can’t back out.

  The truth is I know it won’t go away even after that.

  “Why do you look so happy?” Annie asks, planting a hand on her hip.

  I tear my gaze away from her teasing face to take her in, from her purple-painted toenails to her long legs to the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, and the valley between her breasts, all outlined by the tidy black dress.

  It should be cute.

  It’s not. It makes me want to drag her against me and do unspeakable things to her.

  “Because you’re marrying me.”

  Her eyes darken, and she tucks a piece of the hair she finished curling in our huge en suite bathroom an hour ago behind her ear. “But I can’t find my phone, and how the hell am I supposed to buzz people up?”

  “I’ll call it in a second. We’ll find it.”

  I back her toward the windows, and her eyes widen. “Tyler, we have guests arriving any minute.”

  “You already lost the phone. Can’t buzz them up. Let’s call it off.”

  Her back meets the window, and she sucks in a breath.

  I drop my mouth to her neck, loving her soft floral scent and the way she arches, offering up more of her—all of her.

  I’ll devour every inch.

  “We can’t call it off,” she pants even though her fingers thread into my hair. “It’s our engagement-previews-housewarming party.”

  “Fuck it. They’ll just bring booze and say how happy they are for us. I can tell you how happy I am for us.”

  My hand sneaks under the hem of her dress and under the scrap of lace she calls panties.

  “You’re so wet,” I tell her as if she doesn’t know. “How long have you been like this?”

  “Since you walked out wearing that shirt I bought you.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I like knowing I get to dress you. You’re like my own broody rock star Ken doll.”

  I sink two fingers into her in retaliation, and she moans, squirming.

  “We’ll have lots of time for that when we’re married,” Annie protests, but I know she’s joking because her hips lift to meet every stroke of my hand.

  I glance at the clock. “We have at least ten minutes.”

  Annie’s lips curve. “Well, in that case.”

  I fuck her against the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  I will never, ever get tired of her sounds, the way she feels around me.

  This woman owns me.

  She’s built me up, made me more than I thought I could be.

  And everything I am, everything I will ever be, I’d give it to her.

  I didn’t think it was possible to love another person the way I love her, but she’s shown me giving your heart can be worth it if you give it to the right person.

  When we finish, we clean up quickly and track down her phone before our guests start arriving.

  “This building is beautiful, Annie. I swear the entire thing is windows. And you!” Haley gushes as we open the door to the hallway, Sophie bounding beside her. Jax has the baby carrier in his arms.

  “You’re glowing,” Haley goes on as she steps inside.

  Annie’s face goes red. “Thanks.” She passes me the huge flower arrangement Haley gives her. “Can you take these to the dining room?”

  “Sure.” But I can’t resist brushing my lips over her ear. “I love that now you’re blushing when I was inside you ten minutes ago against those windows.”

  And as I head for the kitchen without waiting for her response, I love that I’ll be inside her tonight after everyone goes home, that I’m the one who gets to make this beautiful, strong woman soft.

  Over the next hour, everyone filters in and mingles around our new apartment.

  Elle’s here, plus Rae, plus Pen, and Beck. Elle catches us up on her stand-up performances and the news that she’s made it to the third round of a nationwide comic breakout competition. Rae’s been DJ-ing in New York and Miami but made sure she could be here for our party.

  Even Beck’s sister, Serena, came since she lives in New York, with her boyfriend, Wes.

  “Holy shit,” Wes states, unselfconscious as he takes in the views. “How big is this place?”

  “Two thousand square feet,” I supply.

  “My bedroom could fit in your bathroom,” Rae deadpans.

  Annie doesn’t feel badly in the slight
est. “Hey, that was my bedroom,” she points out to the woman who took over her spot in Elle’s apartment when Annie moved out.

  “This is what Broadway money buys you,” Beck jokes. “And you’ve only started previews for the show.”

  In reality, a good part of our income is from my royalties, including the new album that’s set to drop next week and is the best music I’ve made to date. The surgery helped with the pain in my hand, but not my ability to play guitar.

  Still, I care less than I used to. Annie helped me realize I can write amazing music and let other people help me perform it.

  Serena laughs and shoves at her brother. “You can’t talk. I have people texting me photos of you from online magazines every other week naming you the hottest new actor in Hollywood.”

  “Hottest,” he points out with a grin. “Not richest.”

  His show started releasing weekly last month, and it’s all anyone can talk about. It’s all but guaranteed to get renewed for a second season.

  Annie sneaks up on me with a glass of champagne.

  I make a face at the drink. “Do I have to?” I joke as I take it from her.

  “I know you hate bubbles. But Dad wants to make a toast.” She smiles.

  Annie and her dad are back on solid ground, and it seems I’m in his good graces, too.

  I think he has finally appreciated what I learned a long time ago—Annie’s going to do whatever she wants, and she’ll probably crush it, too. I don’t need to protect her from the industry.

  If anything, we should protect the industry from her, as evidenced by the fact that she’s dragged a show from practically conception to previews—with her and me in the leading roles—in less than three years.

  “Is everyone here?” she asks me. “What about your friend from London?”

  I invited a couple of guys I met on tour and stayed in touch with off and on. Annie’s been excited to meet them.

  There’s a knock at the door. “That must be him,” I tell her. “Apparently they don’t have clocks in the UK.”

  I go to open it, expecting to see Harry’s tall, broad frame.

  But instead of Harry, it’s a giant ice sculpture on a dolly with a uniformed delivery man.

  “Mr. Adams? Mr. King sends his regards.”

 

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