“Ughhh!” she cried, “See, right there!”
“I just feel bad about abandoning ship after you’ve been nice enough to let me stay here with you,” I said.
“Alexa,” Hadley said, grabbing hold of my shoulders, “You’re going off to live in a swanky apartment in SoHo where you’ll be fawned all over by a rock star. I’d be mad at you if you didn’t move.”
“I’m not going to be fawned over,” I said, “Jackson’s not even in New York, most of the time. They’re going on their American tour this year, you know.”
“Still,” she said, “You’re going to be living with a rock star. That’s a little too amazing to pass up.”
“I think so too,” I said.
It was true, I was going to shack up in Jackson’s New York apartment. We were very adamant about this being different than moving in together. It was one of my new rules that we take this whole couple thing very slow, so that it didn’t become a detriment to either of our careers. But after how well the first batch of rules had gone, I suspected that we’d be testing deeper couple waters sooner than we anticipated. I couldn’t help it, neither of us could. We made so much sense together that it was hard not to leap to the next level of intimacy. The other day, we’d picked out a sofa together. If that wasn’t intimacy, I didn’t know what was.
“I’m just happy for you, Alex,” Hadley said, “And it doesn’t hurt that you’ve finally found a man that you can bring home to Mom and Dad.”
“In a sense,” I laughed, thinking of the way Jackson had kissed my mother’s hand the first time they met. My whole family had been thrilled but amazed by my relationship with him. My mother, for her part, claimed to have seen it coming from the very start. Knowing her, she probably had.
Our apartment buzzer rang, and I rushed to the kitchen window. Jackson was standing on the sidewalk below, looking every inch that guy I’d gone nuts for that first night at the bar. He didn’t bother waiting in the car these days, as the entire world already knew about us. The sight of him, his perfectly balanced muscles shifting and rippling under his finely cut clothing, still made me a little dizzy. I flashed Hadley a smile and raced out the door, vaulting down the stairs as fast as I could. Jackson and I hadn’t seen each other in two full days—I’d gotten back to the city for work before he had. Needless to say, there were some things pent up between us.
I pulled open the front door and launched myself into his arms. He spun me around, laughing at my childish enthusiasm. I lay my hands on his firm chest and offered up my lips for a kiss. He took me up on it, pulling my bottom lip between his and nibbling ever so gently. He threw an arm around my shoulder and led me to the idling town car. There was already a bottle of champagne chilling in the back seat when I slid in.
“Mr. Brent,” I said with mock outrage, “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Perhaps,” he grinned, “Though I like to think that I can get you in the sack sober, these days.”
“Fair enough,” I said, grabbing a flute.
Jackson popped the bottle and poured us each a glass. “To two whole days,” he said.
“Two whole days,” I agreed, “My, Jax, you’re becoming awfully sentimental, aren’t you?”
“That’s what being in love does, I guess.”
“I guess,” I said, “Though I’ve heard that it makes your music terrible. Only heartbroken people can write good music.”
“Well,” he said, leaning back in his seat, “I suppose I could always take up carpentry or something.”
“I don’t know,” I said, “After all, we’re two ambitious, stubborn people whose real lives don’t make any sense together. Maybe you’ll get your heartbreak in the end.”
“Maybe I will,” he said, “But I know that deep down, all you want is a cabin in the woods with a retired rock god and a library full of books. So whatever happens in the mean time, well, that has yet to be seen. But I have high hopes for the golden years.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I said, grinning at him.
He was right, of course. We were lucky enough to share all the deepest convictions, the most fundamental truths. We were perfect for each other...except in any real, grounded way. Convictions were fine, but could I really shape my structural, driven life to his freewheeling one? It was impossible to say. And as I gazed at him over the rim of my champagne glass, drifting through New York in a gorgeous town car, it was hard to worry. If we only had this tiny moment in history together, it would still be more than enough. We had found each other, fought for each other, and we were happy.
About The Author
Natalie is a writer living and working in New York City. When she isn't typing her heart out, she enjoys watching live music and supporting local bands. Visit her site www.yuppiebitch.com for more info.
Find her on Goodreads, Facebook, and Twitter.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
About The Author
Beauty in the Breakdown (A Rock Star Romance Novel) Page 16
