by Lisa Suzanne
Dax is reviewing our set list with us. It’s a shorter set than we usually play, but it’s filled with our most popular hits. We’re only playing one new song, which means I’ll find my groove easily. I can play our hits on autopilot.
But hopefully I won’t have to since I’ll have had the chance to talk to Emily by then.
And if not? Well, then I’ll just have to show her how I feel when she joins me on stage for a New Year’s kiss. It’s sort of a band tradition to bring our significant others onstage at midnight on New Year’s Eve to ring in the new year with a countdown and a kiss.
This will be my first with Emily, and I pray it won’t be my last.
We take the stage for soundcheck, and when we return to our green room, a buffet spread awaits us...as do my sister and my wife.
Emily wears a black dress that makes her entire body shimmer and sparkle. Her eyes find mine, and hers are filled with nervous worry.
I need to get that look off her face. Stat.
I beeline over toward her, and she murmurs a hello. Instead of replying, I simply pull her into my arms and press a kiss to her cheek.
“You’re stunning,” I say, leaning my forehead to hers.
“Thanks,” she whispers. “You look nice, too.”
I chuckle. I’m still in the Motley Crue shirt I left the house in this morning paired with jeans. I pull back and study her eyes. “I really need to talk to you.”
She nods. “I know. And I’m ready to listen whenever you have time.”
“To our last meal of the year!” Dax yells near the buffet line, and I glance at Emily.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
She lifts a shoulder. “I can wait.”
I nod. “Me, too. Come with me.”
I grab her hand and lead her out of the green room we’re in. I check the door next to ours, and it’s unlocked. I flick on the lights. One of the cameramen follows us, but I just smile at him and shut the door before he can come in.
There’s a deadbolt at the top of the door, so I lock it for good measure.
I glance around me. This is just another green room like ours, but a little smaller. Maybe for an opening act or something, but we don’t have one of those tonight.
I spot a couch and motion toward it, and I click off my mic pack. Again. She does the same.
Before I start talking, I sit beside her and take her hand in mine. I bring her icy cold fingers up to my lips and kiss them, closing my eyes at the feel of her skin.
I hold her hand close, and then I lean in and pull her toward me simultaneously until our lips meet in the middle.
It may be soft and gentle, but it still has the ability to drop me to my knees.
“I’m so sorry,” I say softly, resting my forehead to hers again.
“About what?” she asks, alarm in her voice.
“For everything.” I back away and blow out a breath. “For getting you involved in my crazy life. For the miscommunication. For marrying you and then falling in love with you when I’m the one who warned you not to fall for me. For that picture hitting the press today.”
She squeezes my hand. “Don’t be sorry. I don’t regret any of it.”
My heart fills with hope at her words. “Bree was behind everything. She tipped off the press so we’d be ambushed at Belmont Park. She had someone get a picture of us in the alley behind Emerson’s when she knew I’d force her out there to get away from the cameras. She kissed me, and I need you to believe that. I don’t want to be with her, and if seeing her and confronting her told me anything, it’s that I never loved her the way I’ve started falling for you.”
Her eyes shine with unshed tears, but I keep talking.
“She gave me an ultimatum today. She told me to leave you. She told me she wanted me back. When I said no, she told me to pay her a million dollars or she’d run to the press with that photograph.”
She draws in a sharp breath of surprise.
“I almost gave her the money, Em.”
Her eyes widen and her jaw slackens a little, but she doesn’t say anything.
“I almost did it to protect you. To protect us. Because I’ll do anything to keep you safe. But in that moment, I had to think long-term and what that meant for you and me. I knew if I gave her the money, it would never end. She’d come back with some other demand again. And you know what? I knew the only way to get her out of our lives was to let her do whatever she wanted with that stupid picture. I hate her for that, but I hate her more for trying to come between us and what I’ve started building with you.”
She brushes a tear away, and I brush one off her other cheek then squeeze her hand.
“Fuck that stupid picture. You know? Fuck it all to hell. Let her release it. The cameras are on us, and the footage will prove that what we have is real—even if we’re faking it. It’s love, Emily. I’m falling in love with you. And it’s easy to see. Dax told me, Brody told me, hell, even Rascal told me they can all see it when they look at the two of us. You might not be ready to tell me, but I know you love me too. So let Bree have her fifteen minutes now, because once that fifteen minutes is up, I’ll still have you, even if you only stick around for six months. Six months is better than nothing, and I—”
She cuts off my rambling when she places her palm gently on my cheek. Her eyes still shine with tears. “I’m falling for you too, you idiot.”
I chuckle.
“I’ve loved you since I was ten years old. I’ve never been so scared in my entire life, but I want to take this plunge with you. I want you to hold my hand while we jump off the cliff together.”
“What made you change your mind?” I ask softly. For some reason, I have to know.
“When you said you’d do anything to keep me safe and that you had to think long-term, it suddenly clicked for me.” She clears her throat and presses her lips together as she tries to keep the tears at bay. “That’s all I want out of life. Someone who will protect me and think through the long-term ramifications of his actions and what they’ll mean for our relationship. Someone who’s caring and kind but who will prove his love and loyalty to me no matter the cost. Someone who’s hot and sexy and talented and strong...” She squeezes my bicep, and she giggles when I flex.
“Hot and sexy?” I ask.
Her cheeks turn pink again, but she plows through her mortification as she nods. “Yes. I think maybe that could be your nickname.”
I laugh. “Well, then we must be a perfect match.” I run my hand along her thigh, visions of our one shared night flashing through my mind. My fingertips reach under the short, tight hem of her dress. “Because you’re beyond hot and sexy, Mrs. Wilson.” I press my lips to her neck and trail them to her ear, and I feel the exact moment goosebumps trail along her flesh. “And I remember that night,” I whisper close to her ear. I press a kiss just below her lobe. “We had sex. Oh, God did we have sex.” I say it on a moan because I know what it’ll do to her. “And it was incredible.”
She gasps, and I swallow her surprise when my lips crash down to hers.
CHAPTER 41: EMILY
I feel like I might pass out from the heat rushing into my cheeks and the searing ache between my legs, but at the same time, my heart feels like it could burst with happiness.
He remembers that night? How long has he remembered?
How could I not remember?
How could he not tell me?
Stupid tequila!
I’m never drinking tequila again!
But I can’t focus on any of that because Adam’s lips are on mine and everything else starts to fade away except for him and me and my body’s visceral reaction to him.
His tongue pushes into my mouth and brushes my own as his hand continues its play on my thigh. His fingers stroke my leg, causing a stronger and more powerful ache that only he can satisfy.
And he will satisfy it.
I don’t know if it’ll be right now, later tonight, tomorrow, or a month from now, but I’m going to have sex with
my husband.
And this time I’m going to remember it.
It’s some involuntary response to his kiss when I turn in toward him and his hand finds my ass at the same time, urging me onto his lap. Suddenly I’m straddling him and my palms are cupping his cheeks, the rough bristles on his jaw firing off a heated message that this is real and it’s happening.
As his mouth continues its invasion of mine, his fingers are moving along my thighs, stopping every so often to dig into my flesh like he’s doing everything he can to hold himself back from tearing off my dress and taking me right here in this private room we found while everyone else in his band preps to take the stage soon. His fingers inch under my dress, sliding up my thighs higher and higher, the ever-present ache pulsing and throbbing for him. He shifts his hips, driving up toward me, and I can’t help a whiney little moan of need.
Speaking of need...I need to feel those abs.
I trail my hands down toward the hem of his shirt so I can reach under it to feel the warm ridges beneath. I’ve almost reached the promised land when someone starts banging on the door.
And yes, banging is the perfect term to use there because I was about to let Adam bang me right here on this couch.
He chuckles against my lips, breaking our kiss. He leans his forehead to mine again. “After the show tonight. After it’s over, and everyone’s gone, and it’s the new year, and we’re back home...then you’re mine.”
His eyes catch mine, and they’re full of fire. I press my lips to his once more in a silent agreement to his words, and then I reluctantly force myself off his lap. He sits and draws in a deep breath as if he’s trying to calm himself down, his eyes on me the entire time. I start moving toward the door.
“God, you’re hot,” he says, shaking his head like he never really noticed before.
But he notices now.
Finally.
“I wish I didn’t have to work,” he says. He stands and takes a few steps toward me. “I wish I could take you home right now and replay that night so you can remember it, too. So you can think about it at the most inopportune times like I do. My hand sliding up your leg. Kisses and moans.” He stops in front of me and lowers his mouth to my ear. “Our bodies connecting. Nothing between us. Your lips wrapped around my dick.”
His dirty words have the intended effect, and I’m left more than a little speechless as I try to get my wits about me again. It’s useless, though, as he opens the door and finds Brody there.
“What?” Adam demands, and Brody laughs as he takes stock of the empty room we’re in.
“Nice. Find yourselves a little sex den?”
Adam punches him in the arm. “Fuck off.”
They’re adorable as they act like bickering brothers.
Brody laughs. “You’re needed next door. Kane’s trying to make a last-minute change to the setlist and you’re the tiebreaker.”
“Great,” he mutters. He grabs my hand and pulls me along with him as if he didn’t just leave me a puddle of lust with his seduction—with his mouth and his words and his promise for more.
It’s not long before MFB takes the stage. Amber and I stand beside the significant others of the rest of the band—Kylie, Zoey, and Sierra—like we’re a real part of the family. The cameras are there, of course. They’re capturing the show and they’re capturing the band’s number one fans backstage as we link arms and sing every word to every song.
It’s the most fun I think I’ve ever had on a New Year’s Eve. My best friend is by my side, laughing and dancing with me, and three other women who I see becoming close friends in my future are here too. My husband is out on that stage bleeding his raw talent for the world to see, and his best friends are beside him doing the same.
After the things we said to each other tonight, the panic of the other night and the photographer and what Bree did is pushed to the back of my mind—but never completely forgotten. He’s right, though. When the world gets to watch the footage that’s being taken right now, they’ll see our love story.
Only it’ll look like we were already in love when filming began. The truth that only we and a few select people in our innermost circle know is that the cameras have actually been filming the start of something beautiful—potentially the most important relationship of my life.
Only time will tell the answer to that, but feelings this strong aren’t passing ships in the night. They’re forever kinds of feelings...something it took me a minute to realize since I don’t know that I’ve ever really felt them before.
There are only three minutes left in this year.
I can’t help but reflect on exactly how I got to where I am.
I spent the majority of my year with Chad. We haven’t even been broken up four weeks yet, but it seems like ages with everything that’s changed in that short span of time.
I’m a different person than I was four weeks ago.
I’m still careful and logical and cautious—except when I’ve had tequila—but I’m also tapping into an impulsive side that’s willing to take important risks when the stakes are high.
And the highest stake I’ve ever placed in a bet is handing my heart over to Adam to do with it what he will. I just hope and pray that the forthcoming year will prove that I made the right choice.
The song ends, and Dax takes the microphone. “We officially have two minutes left in the year, and I have something I need to say.” He glances backstage and nods his head toward us as if to say, come on out.
My heart thunders in my chest.
Adam mentioned that this is a much smaller venue than they usually play, but I’ve still never been on a stage like this before.
Kylie leads first, and the rest of us follow. Everyone beside me—Amber included—seems calm, cool, and collected, but my hands are shaking and I feel like I could throw up.
We each take our place beside our men.
I can’t help but giggle when I see my best friend sidle up next to Rascal. They’re a match I never would’ve put together—pretty, smart Amber with her blonde hair and brown eyes, her fitted red dress that totally clashes with his orangey-red, short hair, and him with a Rolling Stones t-shirt complete with their tongue and lips logo paired with ripped jeans...but somehow they just seem to work. They’re happy together. They make each other laugh. They find balance in one another—she forces him to make better decisions, and he helps her to lighten up a little.
I guess the same could be said for Adam and me. He’s way out of my league. He’s so damn hot, he’s got these abs that I obviously haven’t seen enough of yet (I don’t know if I’ll ever see enough of them), and he’s in a freaking band, while I’m the queen of being sensible, I’m kind of a numbers geek, and I’m excited to go back to school.
Yet somehow we find ourselves married...and working on giving our marriage a real try.
When my eyes meet Adam’s, I instantly calm. I forget there’s a crowd staring at us. I forget everything, really, except how I feel about him and how happy I am to be in this situation that had such a tumultuous, wild beginning.
I grin at my husband as I take my place by his side, and his face lights with a smile.
After Dax kisses Kylie, he says, “We have some exciting news that I’m sharing for the first time publicly with all of you.”
Adam glances at me with a bit of surprise in his eyes, like he knows what Dax is about to say. “Oh, God, Dax. Don’t do it.”
I glance from him to the microphone in front of him and tilt my head in confusion. Can’t the crowd hear what he’s saying? He was just singing backup vocals a second ago.
“It’s off,” he whispers, as if catching my confusion.
I nod in understanding, but I still don’t know what Adam thinks Dax is about to say.
“We set a wedding date. We’re getting married this March, and we can’t wait for you all to see it when our surprise new season of Rock on the Road airs in the summer.”
The crowd goes wild, and Adam looks a little reliev
ed.
“What?” I ask him quietly.
“I thought he was gonna tell everyone Kylie’s pregnant,” he blurts, and then his eyes widen like he can’t believe he just said that.
“Kylie’s pregnant?” I’m shocked by his announcement, but I still keep my voice down so no microphones can pick up what we’re saying. My mic pack is back in the dressing room, and he isn’t wearing one since he’s on stage.
“It’s a secret.” He makes an oops face. “Shit. I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”
I giggle and hold up a hand. “Secret’s safe with me.”
He laughs and leans in for a quick kiss. “I fucking love you.”
I take a little step back in surprise.
“What?” he asks, the color draining from his face.
I lift a shoulder. “You just haven’t said that yet.”
He nods, his brows furrowing. “Of course I have.”
I shake my head. “No, you haven’t. I’m falling for you. I’m falling in love with you. Yeah, you’ve said those things to me multiple times. But I love you?” I wave my hands out to indicate the crowd watching us. “I’ll never forget the first time my husband told me he loved me. It was in front of a crowd on New Year’s Eve on our three-week wedding anniversary.”
He laughs and pulls me into him, leaning his forehead against mine. “Happy anniversary.”
“Happy anniversary,” I repeat. “And I love you too.”
He kisses me—really kisses me this time—and it doesn’t matter that we’re standing on a stage and a crowd is hooting and hollering a few feet away and bright lights make us one of the focal points up here. It doesn’t matter that there’s a countdown going on to welcome in a new year. It doesn’t matter that we miss it because we’re already participating in the most important kiss of the year—of two years, actually. We said our I love yous and sealed it with a kiss, closing out the past as we look forward to the year ahead.
And despite the crowd watching us, I know for sure this time that it has nothing to do with cameras or microphones or any old show.
It’s just for us...and that feels pretty darn good.
