by Jayne Frost
“Thanks, man.” Logan patted Dylan on the back. “We’d really appreciate it.”
“No problem.” He motioned at Liam, who pushed to his feet. “We’ll let y’all get ready. Think of this as an audition.” He pulled open the door. “I might record a little something- something to show Taryn.”
Lifting my chin to them, I smiled nervously. The other guys did the same.
Logan’s laugh died the minute he closed the door behind Dylan and Liam.
“We can’t suck.” Logan leaned against the wall, his face losing a little color. “We absolutely can’t suck,” he repeated, taking a long pull from his beer.
The door creaked open, and my heart jumped into my throat.
“You never suck, Logan,” Lily said, patting him on the arm as she walked toward me.
All the tension left my body when I heard her voice. Time slowed down, and everything inside me stilled when she leaned over to kiss me.
“Hey, you,” I breathed, easing her onto my lap.
“That’s our cue,” Christian said, smiling at us as the guys headed for the door.
“See you after the show, Lil,” Sean said, following Christian into the hall.
“No screwing on the couch. We all have to use it.” Logan snorted, pulling the door closed behind him.
It popped open a second later, and Logan peeked his head inside.
“Glad you’re here, darlin’.”
“Me, too.” Lily smiled at him warmly.
The door barely clicked shut before I had her back against the couch and my mouth on hers. She tugged at my hair, pulling me back.
“What’s your hurry?” she cooed, pulling me in for a slow kiss.
It was probably then, when she stilled my heart with that phrase the first time we were together, that I fell in love with her.
“No hurry, baby.” I pressed my forehead to hers. “Although, I was hoping for a little action before the show.”
Grinding my hips against hers, I slid my tongue along her bottom lip.
“Later.” She pushed my chest with her small fists. “You’ve got a show to do, and I’ve got to unpack.”
I liked the sound of that. It meant she would be here more than a day before she disappeared, leaving only her scent in my bed and her little love notes scattered around my apartment.
Pushing off the couch, I walked over to the mirror, raking my hands through my hair. She met my gaze in the reflection, a smile tilting up the corners of her lips.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I warned. “I’ll make all those people out there wait and throw you up against the wall.”
Keeping her eyes locked on mine, she stood and walked over, pressing her chest to my back. Her hands skimmed my chest.
“I hope you still feel like that when the novelty wears off and I’m around all the time,” She murmured.
I could impress her and tell her that it would be thirty-three days until she was here for good—792 hours. I couldn’t give her the exact minutes. Right now. Sometimes I figured it out in my head, on days when I really missed her. But right now she was pressed against me, and my mind was quiet.
Turning, I cupped her cheek. “I can’t wait until you’re here to stay, baby. It’s killing me.”
Wrapping her arms around my neck, she looked up at me.
“Me, too. That’s why I finished my last project early. I’m officially a graduate.” She rose up to her tiptoes, her lips hovering an inch from mine. “I hope you were serious about wanting a roommate. Since everything I own is packed in your car.”
I searched her face. No telltale crease on her forehead. No hesitation. My shock gave way to relief. And then want. As strong as the pull in my chest that bound us.
“You’re serious?” I pressed a kiss to her bottom lip.
She nodded, her smile brilliant. “I couldn’t keep leaving or watching you go. I love you too much.”
Before she could say another word, my mouth was on hers, swallowing her giggles and the moans that followed.
The cheers from the audience began to shake the walls. It was my cue. The opening act was finished. It was time for the main event.
THE END
Acknowledgements
Matthew—The first person I ever loved more than myself.
Victoria—The younger, better versions of me that makes my life worth living.
Dennis and Charlotte—I love you both. Don’t be so surprised.
Mary—Love you. Enough said.
Bonnie Marie—Forever wild. I miss you.
Dina—My sister soulmate.
And finally, gratefully, Ally Bishop. You see the story and help me make it better.
Jayne Frost, Author
So…Who is Jayne?
As a writer you would think that would be a simple question…but it’s not. I spend so much time living in my characters heads, listening to their voices, that sometimes I forget about my own.
I guess I should start with the basics. The backstory. I was born and raised in California. At this point I’m usually asked what it was like to grow up near the beach, but sadly, I don’t know. I grew up in the “other” part of California. Perfect for an aspiring writer, if you ask me. You learn a lot about keeping yourself busy when the nearest house is a mile away…and it belongs to your grandparents.
I spent all my time with my nose in a book, living vicariously through the characters, until I wrote a book of my own. I was 10 at the time. It was a scintillating piece that cast the family pet as the protagonist.
By the time I went to high school, I moved on to romance. Why? Because I met my very own prince charming. I wrote love poems in my journal about the green eyed boy that stole my heart. He promised, the way all storybook hero’s do, to sweep me away and take me on a grand adventure. And he did.
We picked up and moved to the Lone Star State, and began the story of us. The best stories begin without a road map or a compass. Veering off course makes the journey so much more interesting.
True to form, just when I thought my life was set, we started the next adventure. I traded in my cowboy boots and followed my green eyed boy to Las Vegas. My home will always be in Texas, but my heart is anywhere that he is. Our beautiful daughter made the journey with us. Our son stayed in Texas, to write his own story.
Somehow, in the midst of the chaos that is our life, I find time to write. Writing is what I love. I might stray from the romance every now and then if that is what moves me…but I always come back. Some of the stories don’t seem romantic at all. They are gritty stories about flawed characters that find each other and hold on tight. Those are the stories that speak to me. Because that’s life. I believe that every story should have a happy ending- even the difficult ones.
Find me at www.jaynefrost.com, on Twitter (@jaynefrostbooks), and Facebook (Jayne Frost), and feel free to email me via my website (look for the “Contact” tab!)
Thank you so much for reading Gone for You! If you have a moment, please leave a review on your favorite book websites.
Table of Contents
Title Page
First page
Want more?
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Acknowledgements
Author Page
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