RockYourHeartOut

ASinfulSerenadeNovel

CrystalKaswell

SinfulSerenade

SingYourHeartOut

-Miles

StrumYourHeartOut

-Drew

RockYourHeartOut-Tom

PlayYourHeartOut-Pete-ComingMay2016

SignupfortheCrystalKaswellmailing

CHAPTERONE

Theroomisdarkexceptfortheyellowlightstreamingfromundertheclosedbathroomdoor.Quiet
exceptforthetap-tap-tapoftheshower.

Thenthere'snomoretap-tap-tap.Theshowerisoff.
Igropethewallforthelightswitch.Nothing.Stilldark.
Okay. No big deal. My brother knows I'm coming. I knock just in case my ETA text messages

didn'tgetthrough."Drew.It'sme.Takeyourtime."

Noresponse.Maybehedidn'thearme.Igotoknockagainbutthehandleturns.
Thebathroomdoorpullsopen.Lightpoursintothemainroom.Itsurroundsamuscularmanina

soft,yellowglow.

That'snotDrew.
ThankGod,becausehe'snaked.
Completelyandtotallynaked.
There'sastrangenakedmaninDrew'shotelroom,andhe'sbetweenmeandtheexit.
Itakeastepbackwards.There'snowheretogo.I'magainstthewall.Myheartbeatspeedsup.This

guydoesn’tlookmenacingbutthat'snotenoughtoconvincethenervesinmystomachtosettle.

"Hey.Didn'tthinkyouwerecoming,"hesays.
Hisvoiceiscalm.Notthreatening.
I take a deep breath. This must be an innocent mistake. The guy at the front desk gave me the

wrongkey.

Pleaseletitbeaninnocentmistake.
"Alice?"heasks.
Ishakemyhead.I'mnotAlice.Giventhewayhe'sstanding,tallandproudandutterlynaked,she

mustbeasexualpartner.

Hereachesforsomethingandtheroomilluminates.He'snolongerhighlightsonhardmuscles.

Actually, he's really familiar. Green eyes. Dark blond hair hanging wet around his face. Soft lips
curledintoawelcomingsmile.

Iknowhim.Knowwhoheis.
RelieffloodsmylimbsasIexhale.That'shim.TomSteele,thedrummerinmyguitaristbrother's

alternativerockband,SinfulSerenade.

He'snotdangerous.He'smybrother'sbestfriend.
Giveortake.Drewisn'treallythefriendlytype.
"Did you change your hair?" he asks. "Your nose maybe? Don't get me wrong. You look good.

Justdifferent."

Ishakemyhead.Mymouthistoostickytoformwords.
He'snaked.
Myeyeswon'tco-operatewithme.Theytracealinedownhisbody.Strongjaw,softlips,broad

shoulders,sculptedtorso.

I'veseenplentyofmennakedinphotographyclasses,butnoneofthemmademefeelsweatyand

flushed.

Mygazegoeslower.
Tohishappytrail.
Lower.
Holyshit.
He'spierced.There'sabarbellstudgoingthroughthetoptothebottomofhistip.

Myjawdrops."Isthata..."
"PrinceAlbert?"
It'simpossibletospeak.Inod.
"It'sanapadravya.LikeaPrinceAlbertbutonbothsides."
"Oh."
"It'snew,"hesays."Realnew,actually.I'moutofcommissionforanotherthreeweeks.ButIstill

haveamouthandtwohands,sohoponthebed."

Me...onthebed...withTom.
Hestepscloser."You'renotAlice,areyou?"
Finally,Icollectsomehintofmysenses."No,I'msorry."Ipressmybackagainstthewall.Nerves

collectinmystomach.Notfearbutembarrassment."Isn'tthisDrew'sroom?"

"Weswitched."Hiseyesfixonmine."Howdidyougetakey?"
It is an honest mistake. That's a relief. How did I get this key? At the desk. Asking for Bruce

Wayne.It'shardtothinkgiventhecircumstances.Isaythefirstthingthatmakesittomylips."You're
naked."

Helaughs."You'reobservant."
Ican'tdragmygazeawayfromhispiercing."Didn'tthathurt?"
"Notasmuchasyou'dthink."
"What'sthepoint?"
Hestudiesmyexpression."Ifyoudon'tlikeitstopstaring."
Ipressmyeyelidstogether."Sorry."
"Youwanttotellmewhatyou'redoinginmyhotelroom?"
"IthoughtthiswasDrew'sroom."
Somehow, I manage to look him in the eyes. That's definitely Tom. We've never met—I was in

boardingschoolwhenthebandwasforming—butI’veseenhiminmusicvideosandonthecoverof
RollingStone.

Tompullsatowelaroundhiswaist.Thatmakesiteasiertothink.
"I'mDrew'ssister.Willow."Idigintomypurseandpulloutmydriver'slicense."Here.See."
TomglancesattheIDthenreturnsit."YoushouldatoldmebeforeIletyougawk."Hegoestothe

bed,digsthroughanopensuitcase,andpullsonapairofboxers."Idon'tmind.I'mnotshy.Butyour
brotherwillkillmeifhefindsoutyousawmenaked."

There'satattooofaliononhischest.Thickblacklines.Thepatterncontinuesdownhisarm,all

thewaytohiswrist.

"IknowI'msexyashell,butyoushouldprobablystopstaring."
God,he'sright.I'mbeingallkindsofrude.There'snoexcuse."I'msorry.It'sjust—"
"Beenawhile?"
"Somethinglikethat."Mycheeksflush.It'sbeensixyearssinceI'vehadsex.SixyearssinceI've

feltahintofdesire.

"Ifeelyou,kid.I'munderstrictordersfrommypiercer:nosexforsixweeks."Helooksbackto

mewithaplayfulsmile."Can'tevenfuckmyself."

He's casual with that information. Hi, I'm Tom, my cock is pierced, I can't fuck anyone for three

moreweeks.Notevenmyself.

Tom gets dressed like it doesn't bother him that I'm gawking. Skinny jeans. Converse. V-neck.

Tightcottonhoodie.

Pictureperfect,effortlesslycoolrockstar.
Ipressmyhandsagainstmysidesandforcemyselftostareatthewall.Okay.We'vegotthismix

upsettled.NowIhavetofigureoutwhatthehellI'mgoingtosaytoDrewaboutwhyI'mhere.The

truthisn'tanoption.

Tom'svoicepullsmeoutofmythoughts.
"Hope I didn't scare you." He smirks and motions to his now clothed crotch. "I know it's a

monster."

Iclearmythroat."Iwasn'texpectinganakedmaninmyhotelroom."
"Youlookrattled."
"Surprised."
"Intrigued?"Heraisesabrow.
Mycheeksflush."I'veneverseena,uh,piercinglikethatbefore."IpressmylipstogetherbeforeI

shovemyfootintomymouth."Ihavealotonmymind.That'sall."

Hiseyespassoverme."Ifyouneedsomething—moneyaplacetostay–Icanarrangethat."
Istudyhisexpressionforacluetohisintentions.HeseemsearnestbutIdon'ttrustmyinstincts

whenitcomestomen."Nothanks.It'safamilything."

Tomraisesaneyebrow."Asyouwish."Hetapsafewnumbersintothehotelphone'skeypadand

bringsittohisear."Hey.Youtwofinished?Iranintoyoursisteratthefrontdesk.Youwantmeto
bringherover?"TomlaughsatwhateverDrewsays."Iknow.Iwouldn't.I'mtoobeautifultodie."He
setsthephonebackinthereceiver.Hiseyesmeetmine."He'sready.Room417."

Inod."Thankyou.Andsorry."
"Idon'tmind."Tomshrugs."Justkeepthisbetweenus."
"Sure."It'stoomortifyingtotellanyone."Goodnight."Igrabmybag,slingitovermyshoulder,

andreachforthedoor.

"Willow—"
"Yeah?"
"Thereareleakedpicsofmeonline.Ifyouneedtotakeanotherlook."

CHAPTERTWO

Drew's arms are folded over his chest. His dark brows are furrowed. His dark eyes are filled with
frustration.

"WhatwereyoudoinginTom'shotelroom?"Drewasks.
"Talking."Iplaywithmybag'sshoulderstrap."It'sgoodtoseeyoutoo."
"Yeah."Hepullsmeintoastiltedhug.Hiseyesfixonmine."Well,ifhetriestocrosstheline,let

meknowandI'llkickhisass."

Ikeepmyvoicecalm.ItmustbepossibletoreasonwithDrew.Intheory."Isn'tTomyourfriend?"
"Yeah,butyoucomefirst.He'saplayer.He'llhurtyou."
EvenIcanseethat."Considermewarned."
Drew stares at me, tearing apart my intentions. He softens. "What's wrong, Wil? You look

terrified."

Iswallowhard."Ineedaplacetostayforafewdays."
"Why?"
Thedoorbehindusopens.KaraKendrick,Drew'sgirlfriend,popsout.She'swearinghersweater

dressbackwardsandherusuallystraightbrownhairisamessytangle.

"Hey Willow! It's good to see you. It's been forever." She pulls me into a close hug. "You look

good.Yourhairlooksprettylong."

"Thanks."Irunahandthroughmythickbrownhair."It'sgettingalittlemuch."
"Youwouldlookcutewithlongbob.Orblack.Somethingdramatictocelebratebeingacollege

grad."SheslidesherarmaroundDrewwithawistfulsigh."OnemoremonthandI'llbefreetoo."

"Thentwoyearstogetyourteachingcredential,"Drewsays.
Shenudgeshim."Technicalities."
Drewclearshisthroatandmotionstothedoor."Kendrick.Alittleprivacy."
Shesqueezeshimtighter."No."
"Whatdoyoumeanno?"Drewasks.
She smiles, happy as a clam, and kisses Drew on the cheek. His frown fades away. Until he's...

smiling?That'sweird.Drewdoesn'treallysmile.

Buthe'sfreakingbeaming.
"Youlooklikeyou'regonnapopavein,baby.Nobodywantstotalktoyouwhenyou'repissed."

Sherunsherhandsthroughhishair."Yourpoorsisterisprobablyworriedyou'regonnahitsomeone
ifshetellsyouwhat'sup."

Drewpouts.
"Betyoualreadythreatenedtohitsomebody,"shesays.
"Notexactly."
Karalookstome."Didhe?"
Inod.
Shethrowshimasternlookandpullsherhandstohersides."Yougetintoafightandthat'sgoing

tobethelasttimeyoutouchanyoneforawhile."

Damn, I don't remember Kara being such a badass. I make a mental note to ask her for tips on

dealingwithdifficultmen.

Drewstaresintohereyes."You'rebluffing."
"Try me." Kara pulls him into the hotel room and motions for me to follow. "Couch is clean. I

swear."

Theroomisasuite,withabedroomandaseparatecoffeenook.Imoveintothelatterandplanton

thecouch.

Drewsitsnexttome."Whathappened?"
Itakeadeepbreath.Ican'texplainthatBradleymovedinnextdoor.There'snotellingwhatDrew

willdo."Ihaveanissuewithoneofmyneighbors.He'sreally...difficult.Icanfigureitout.Ijustneed
afewdaystothink."

Drewstaresbackatme."Ifsomeoneisgivingyoutrouble,I'lltalktothem.Takecareofit."
No.Drewtakescareofthingswithhisfists."It'snothing.JustthatIcan'tdealwithitrightnow.I'm

applying for this job at a studio in the city. It's mostly boudoir, people who want sexy photos of
themselvestoboosttheirconfidenceorasgiftsfortheirpartners."

Drewraisesabrow."Notabadgig."
It's an awesome gig, at the best studio in Northern California. But I still need ten photos, ten

sensualphotosofamodelinvariousstatesofundress,ifIwanttoapply.IneedanewmodelASAP
butthere'snowayI'maskingmybrotherorhisgirlfriendtoposeinlingerie.

IlookbacktoDrew."It'sagreatopportunity.Andtheapplicationisdueatnoon.So..."
"So?"Hestaresbackatme."Isthatsupposedtoconvincemetodropit?"
"Untilnoon.Please."Icrossmyfingers.There'salmostnochancethiswillwork.
Karastepsintotheroomwithtwoglassesofwater.ShehandsonetomeandtheothertoDrew.
Hegetsupandplantsakissonherlips."Giveusaminute,baby.Thisiskindapersonal."
She stares back at him. I know that look. It's the do I trust Drew not to threaten violence look.

Answermustbeyes,becauseshenodsandtakesherturnkissinghim.

Karalookstome."I'llwaitintheotherroom.IhavetocatchuponmyRussianliterature."
They'rehappy.Functional.Ineverthoughteitherofuswouldhaveanythinglikethat.
Drewrunshishandthroughhishair."Wil,tellmethetruth.Iknowyoudidn'thoponabusfor

five hours because your neighbor plays metal until three a.m." He leans closer. "I'm not seventeen
anymore.I'mnotgoingtojumpstraighttoviolence."

"Isthereanintermediarystepnow?"
Heleansback,notatallamused."Youstilldon'ttrustme."
"ThelasttimeIneededyourhelp,you..."Ipullmyarmsovermychest,unabletodoanythingbut

rememberhowthoroughlypanicswallowedmewholethatnight."Whatifhe'dhadaknifeoragun?
You'dbedeadrightnow."

Drewscoffslikehebelieveshecouldtakeaknifeand/orgun-wieldingguywithfiftypoundson

him.Drewisnoslouch,physically.ButBradleyisafootballplayer.He'staller,bigger,meaner.

"Do you have any idea how scared I was that something was going to happen to you?" I hug

myselftighter."Itwouldhavebeenallmyfault."

"No, it would have been my fault. I knew what I was risking. And I knew I could take him." He

looks me in the eyes. "What's wrong with protecting the people you love? The world would be a
betterplaceifBradleywasdead."Thenameispoisononhislips."ShouldakilledhimwhenIhadthe
chance."

"You'renotconvincingmethatyou'recapableofsettlingthingswithoutresortingtoviolence,"I

say.

Drewnods.Hemustseemypoint."I'msorryIscaredyoubackthen.Youhadenoughtodealwith.

Whateveritisthat'swrong,I'llhelp.Theanswerdoesn'thavetobemurder.Doesn'tevenhavetobe
aggravatedassault."

Maybe.Iwanttotellhim.Ireallydo.Butthere'ssomethingabouttheintensityofhisexpression.I

can'ttrusthimnottogethimselfhurt.

Drew'svoicedrops."IsitBradley?"

Isaynothing.
"Don'tyouhavearestrainingorder?"
"Itexpired."Ibitemylip."It'snothing.Ijust...Ineedsometimetofigureouteverything.Ifyou

don'twantmehere,that'sfine."

"OfcourseIwantyouhere."Drewlooksmeintheeyes."Promisemeyou'llbesafeontourwith

usandI'llletitgo."

"I'monlystayingafewdays."
"Wil,promiseorI'mhiringabodyguardtowatchyoutwentyfourseven."
Ican'tpromisethat.ButIcan'tletDrewknowBradleyistryingtoinserthimselfbackintomylife.

Ilookmybrotherintheeyes."I'llbefine.ButIshouldreallygettoshowering.Ihavetogetupearly
ifIwanttofinishtheapplicationintime."

IgotopushmyselfupbutDrewgrabsmyarm.
"Youneedmoney?"heasks.
"Ican'ttakeyourmoney.NotafteralltheshitMompulled."
"I'mnotlikeMom.I’mnotgoingtoattachstringstoit."
"Still. I don't want to fight. I need a place to stay for a few days. If that's not okay with you, I'll

figuresomethingelseout."Itakeadeepbreath."Youcanpayformyhotelroomifitmakesyoufeel
better."

Hesmilesashepullsouthiscreditcardandhandsittome."Itdoes."
"Thankyou."
Hisexpressiongetsoverprotective."Wait.Doesyourapplicationneedsexypictures?"
Okay.Timeforawhitelie."Anyportraitswilldo."
Ohno.He'sabouttovolunteer.
Atleastthispartistrue."Nooffense,Drew,butyoualwayslookpissedoffinpictures.I'llfinda

model.It'snobigdeal."

"Okay.Butyouhavetopromiseyou'llthinkaboutstayingtherestofthetourifyoudon'tgetthat

job.It'sonlyanothertwomonths.Itwillbefun.Wecancatchup."

Mystomachtwists.Realitysinksin.IfIdon'tgetthatjob,Idon'thaveabetteroptionthanstaying

withDrew.Evenso..."Twomonthsistoolongtoletmyphotographylapse."

"Considerit,"hesays."Kara'sflyingoutofPortland.Icantakeyoutotheairportwithheroryou

can leave out of any other city. Hell, Wil, you can come back home with us and crash in the spare
roomaslongasyouneed.TherearelotsofphotographerswhoneedassistantsinLosAngeles."

"I'llthinkaboutit."Itmightbemyonlyoption.Ipushmyselfoutofmyseat."Thanks,Drew.I'll

seeyouinthemorning."

"Tomwasn'tbuggingyou,washe?"
"No.Hewasagentleman."
Drewcocksabrow."Soundssuspect."
"Hewasfine."
"I'lltalktohim."Drew'sexpressiongetsserious.
Iknowthatlooktoo.Itmeansiftalkingdoesn'twork,I'llhithimuntilheunderstands.
"Thinkaboutstaying."Drewwalksmetothedoor."I'llfeelalotbetternotknowingwhat'sgoing

onifIcankeepaneyeonyou."

"Iwill.Thanks."
Hegivesmeahalf-hugandlooksbacktoKara,waitingonthekingbed.
She smiles and joins our awkward goodbye. "Hey, Willow. We're going to a theme park

tomorrow.Go-karts,mini-golf,lasertag.Youshouldcome.Itwillbefun."

"Ihavethisapplicationdueatnoon,"Isay.

"Wecanwait,"sheoffers.
Itrytoimaginesomeversionofrealitywherego-kartsandmini-golfdon'tinvolvemesittingon

abenchinthehotsun,waitingoutanotheractivity,butthevisionwon'tcome.It'snotthatI'magainst
fun. Just that I prefer to stick to the sidelines. It's safer. Less risk of getting hurt or embarrassing
yourselforfallinginlovewithaguywhohitsyou.

"Thanks,butI'mreallytired.Ineedsometimetothinktomorrow."Atleastthat'strue.
Shenods."Thenhowaboutwemeetforlunch?Afteryourapplicationisdue."ShenudgesDrew.
Helooksatherthenbacktome."Yeah.Meetyouinthelobbyatnoon."
Inod."Okay."
Heopensthedoorforme."Everythingisgoingtobeokay,Wil.Ipromise."

CHAPTERTHREE

I slump on the concrete bench outside the hotel. Cold, evening air sinks through my thin sweater.
Goosebumpsspreadovermyarms.

It'snotokay.There'saconventionintown—apparently,avalidexcuseforthefront-deskguytobe

anass—andeveryroomisbooked.

Myphoneisstilldead.Therearehalfadozenhotelsinwalkingdistance.Butfirst,Ineedtoclear

myhead.Itakeoutmycameraandadjusttheshutterspeedtoonemoreappropriateforthedarksky.
Myhandsareshaky.Thisisgoingtocomeoutblurry.Isnapafewshotsanyway.Theaquahotelpool
hidingbehindablackfence.Theyellowglowofthestreetlightfallingoverthesidewalk.Thecouple
walking towards me—too far away for any details besides the way the woman is holding onto the
manlikehe'saballoonstringandshe'safraidhe'llflyaway.

Waitasecond.
That'sTom.Andawomanwholooksalotlikeme.MustbeAlice.She'salittleshorterandalot

curvier.Lighterhair.Moremakeup.Muchsexieroutfit—tightdressandstilettos.

There'ssomethingaboutTom'sposture.Almostlikehe'snotinterested.
Izoomintohisfaceandsnapafewshots.Theevidenceisclear.Hehashisarmaroundherbut

there'snoenthusiasminhisexpression.

TheinsightdisappearswhenIsetmycameradown.Theworldmakesmoresensecapturedina

photograph.IseeallthethingsInormallymiss.

Tom'seyesconnectwithmine.Henodshello.Inodbackandattempttoavertmygazetoanything

else. My camera. Maybe there are some decent sexy pictures that will get me out of this desperate
situation.

Nothing.
It took me a month to work up the courage to arrange a shoot with an exceptionally friendly

model.HowamIgoingtoaskastranger?

Ahigh-pitchedsquealinterruptsmytrainofthough.
"What the fuck, Tom? You're going to make me share with some girl who looks just like me?"

ThegirlonTom'sarmglaresatmewithirritation.

"No.I'moverthreesomes."Tomkeepshiseyesonmeasheaddressesthewoman."Waitinside.

Now."

Shescoffsbutobliges,pushingthroughtheglassdoorsandthrowingherselfonthelobbycouch.

Herlegsspreadinaposemoredesperatethanenticing.

Helooksatherwithahintofregret."ThisiswhyIdon'tdorepeatsanymore.Toomanyfeelings."
"Repeats?"
Helaughs."Don'tthinkyou'reasinnocentasyouroutfitsuggests."
Isasweaterandjeansreallyinnocent?Thisishowmostpeopledress.
IstarebackatstilleffortlesslycoolTom.Itsinksin.Repeats."Youmeansleepingwiththesame

womanmorethanonce?"

Henods."Notworththetrouble."
Wow.That's...slutty.IclearmythroatandforcemyselftolookTomintheeyes.
Dammit,thatsamebuzzofelectricitypassesthroughme.Fromonefingertiptoanotherthenright

betweenmylegs.It'snotthegorgeousgreencolorthatgetsme.It'sthesparkofmischiefinthem.

Thelinesofhistattoopeekingoutfromhisv-neck.
God, he would look yummy in a photograph, pulling that v-neck halfway down his chest that I

knowyouwantmeexpressiononhisface.

"Eyesuphere."Hesmirks."Whereyougoingwithallyourshit?"
"Thehotel'sbooked."
"Youcantakemyroom.I'llsleepinthebus."
"No.You're..."Imotiontothewomansittinginthelobby."Busy."
His eyes drift to Alice then back to me. "I'm gonna let her down easy. I'm not in the mood

anymore."

He'snot?HeseemedprettyreadytopouncewhenhethoughtIwasAlice.
It's not as if she's lacking in any way. If anything, she's prettier than I am. She's certainly more

endowedintheT&Aregions.

"Youeatdinner?"heasks.
Mystomachgrowls.ThelastthingIatewasoatmealandraisinsandthatwasthismorning.Ishake

myhead,no.

"There'sastripmalldowntheblock.Acoupleplacesareopenallnight."
"WhataboutAlice?"
"She'llfeelevenmoredeprivedifwegetgoingandshedoesn'tgetherlipsaroundmycock."
Thereisn'tasinglehintofironyinhisvoice.He'ssoconfident,sosurethatwomenwillbeupset

overnotgettingthechancetoblowhim.

Itmustbeamazingtobethatsureofyourself.
"Here."Heslidesmybagoffmyshouldersandaroundhis.
"Okay."
He'salreadyhalfwaytothedoor,toofarawaytohearme.ItrynottogawkasTomtalkstothe

girl. Apparently, he hasn't mastered this whole letting her down easy thing, because she pouts and
stomps,throwingonehellofafit.

Sheglaresatmeonherwaytothestreet.Tomfollowsamomentlater.Hestopsnexttomeand

shrugs,notatallawareoftheeffecthehasonher.

***

TompullstheThairestaurant'sdooropen."Bestchickenandeggplantanywhere."

"I'mavegetarian,"Isay.
Hepointstoonehalfofthepapermenupastedtothedoor."Theyhaveavegetarianversion."
He presses his hand against my lower back and leads me to a corner booth. There are all these

clothesintheway,but,stillmybodyhumswithdesire.

We'retheyoungestpeopleherebytwentyyears.Thatdoesn'tspareTomfromfemaleattention.A

womaninasharpsuit,someCasinoexecutivetype,makeseyesathim.

"Givemeasec."Tompushesoutofhisseatandapproachesthewoman.
One second she's all business, the next she's gushing, pawing at his hoodie. He leans in close,

smiling and running his fingers over her wrist. Is the gesture sincere or a put on? I can't tell. Not
withoutmycamera.

Heslideshisarmaroundhersoshecantakeaselfiethenpullsamarkerfromhisjeansandsigns

thebackofhercellphonecase.

Heblowsherakissgoodbyeashemakeshiswaybacktome.
Icovermyjudgmentalexpressionwiththemenu."Ifyouwanttotakeherbacktoyourroom,I

won'tstopyou."

"Shewaswearingaweddingring."Tompressesmymenudownandlooksintomyeyes."Idon't

fucktakenwomen."

"It'snoneofmybusiness."

"Youwerewatching."
I bury my attention in the menu. The eggplant dish sounds good. Basil, soy sauce, red peppers,

garlic.ButIknowIlikepadthai."Iwasjustcurious."

"About?" He shifts back in his seat, gives the menu a once over, and looks back to me. "I don't

offendeasily.Youcanlayallthejudgmentyouwantonme."

"I'mnotinapositiontojudgeanyone'slovelife."
"Lovedoesn'thaveshittodowithit."
"Oranyone'ssexlife."
The waitress interrupts to drop off waters and take our order. I stick with the pad thai. It's safe.

Tomordersthespicybasileggplantdishherecommended.Thevegetarianversion.

"Youdidn'thavetodothat,"Isay.
"Iknow.Idon'tdoanythingunlessIwanttodoit."
Hiseyesboreintome,butI'mnotsurewhathe'stryingtofind.Withoutthemenu,there'snowhere

tohide.Ihavetosaysomething.

"WhydidyourejectthatAlicegirl?"Iask."Shewashot."
"Youlikegirls?"Heperksup."CanIwatch?"
"Youwantto?"
"Never seen two girls who were really into each other go at it before. Only women putting on

someshowformyamusement.IfIwantedtoseefakeorgasms,I'dwatchshittyporn."

"Asopposedto?"
"Amateurstuff."
Iclearmythroat.Notgoingthere."Ilikeguys."
"Youembarrassedaboutthat?"
"No.But...Icantellwhenawomanisattractive."
"Yeah.Aliceiscute.Wehookedupalongtimeago.Supposedtobeaone-timething,butsheknew

I'dbeinRenoandshecalled.Thoughtshewantedticketsorwantedtofuckmeagain."

"Whataboutthepiercing?"
"Idon'tmindgivingwithoutreceiving."Helaughs."Butthewayshewastalking...shewasgetting

feelings. Expectations. Maybe they were real. Maybe she's full of shit and wants to nab a rock star
boyfriend."Sadnessflaresinhiseyes."Doesn'tmatter.Idon'tdorelationships."

"Whynot?"
"Never felt that way." He studies my expression. "Come on. Lay the judgment on me. I know

you'renotscrewingadifferentguyeverynight."

Achuckleescapesmylips.
Heraisesabrow."Onlyonceaweek?"
Ilaughharder.Abigbellylaugh.
"Okay,okay,"hesays."Idon'twanttoinsultyourgame.Twiceaweek?"
Mywholebodygoeslight.AllthetensionofthedaymeltsasIburstintogiggles.Nooneteases

melikethis.Ishakemyhead."Idon'thaveanygame."

"Guysdon'tgocrazyforthatsweetandinnocentthing?"
"Idon'treallydate."
"Just pickup guys in bars and fuck them without learning their names." He shakes his head with

mockoutrage."Willow,Willow,Willow.Iexpectedbetterfromyou.Theyatleastdeservebreakfast
inthemorning."

"I'mnotamonster.Imakethemcoffee."
Hisinterestperks."Really?"

IholdapokerfaceforaslongasIcan(aboutfifteenseconds).AnotherlaughescapesmylipsasI

shakemyhead.

"Don'tevenmakecoffee.Sogreedy."
"Hey! I live around the corner from a Philz Coffee. I always offer them a few bucks to pick

somethingup."

"Soyoumakethemfeelcheaptoo?"Heshakeshishead."Whatdoyouscreamwhenyoucomeif

youdon'tknowtheirnames?'Baby'or'OhGod'or'Fuckyeah'?"

"Whatdoyouscreamoutwhenyoucome?"
"Onlyonewaytofindout."
Hecan'tbeserious.
Tomlaughs."Kidding.Youseemlikeanicekid,andIknowbetterthantogetbetweenDrewand

someonehewantstoprotect.YouandI...we'rejustfriends."

TomandIaregoingtobefriends.Icandothat.Inod.Justfriends.Noproblem.
I'llonlybearoundhimafewdaysifIgetthegig.
There'sabuzzontheothersideofthebench.That'saloudvibratealert.Tomattendstosomething

onhisphone.Ichecktherestofthepicturesonmycameraforanythingremotelyappropriateforthis
assignment.There'snothing.

The waitress interrupts our silence with a promise our food is almost ready. Once she's gone,

Tomslideshisphoneintohispocketandturnsallhisattentiontome.

"Howoftendoyougetlaid?"heasks.
"Thatisincrediblyclassified."
"Suityourself."
Okay.Twocanplaythisgame.Iteaseback."Ifyou'resuchaproudmanwhore,whydidyougeta

piercingrightbeforegoingontour?"

"There'snotimelikethepresent.Ifyouwantsomething,whywait?"
"Butyou'repermanentlychangingyourbody."
"I did my research. Read about the risks, found a piercer with experience. After that, there's no

reasontowastetimedeciding.Doitordon't."Heleanscloser."Whatdidyouthink?"

Think?It'snotpossibletothinkinthisstate.Thatpiercing,godthatpiercing.Whatwoulditfeel

likeinmyhands,mymouth,my—

"Youdolikeit."Helaughs."Myeyesareuphere,kid."
"Iknow."Ifinishmywater.HowcanIbethisattractedtoTom?Ihaven'twantedanyoneinyears.

He'shot,yes,buttherehavebeenotherhotguys.Igoondates.Kisseven.

Ineverfeelanythingthisintense.Hell,Ineverfeelanything.Period.
Thewaitressdropsoffourfoodandrefillsourwaters.ShefawnsoverTom,fetchinghimseveral

kindsofhotsauceandbrushingherhandagainsthiswristwithoutaskingpermission.

Whenshe'sdoneflirting,hescoopshisdishandafairhelpingofriceontoasideplateandpasses

ittome."Tryit."

"Youdon'thavetodothat."
"Ithoughtwecoveredthis.Idon'tdothingsunlessIwanttodothem."
"Okay.Thankyou."Itryabiteofeggplant.It'sgood.Tender.Spicy.AfterIswallow,Ilicktheoil

offmylips.

Hewatchesmewithacockysmile.HeknowsIlikeitbuthedoesn'tbragaboutit.
Iscoopaquarterofmynoodlesontoasideplateandofferthemtohim."Fairisfair."
Henods."Ilikeagenerouswoman."
Oh,god,he'stalkingaboutsexagain.Itakealongsipofwaterinthehopesofcoolingoff.
Itdoesn'thelp.

Weeatinsilence.Thefoodisgood.Especiallytheeggplantdish.WhenI'mstuffed,Ithankhim

fordinnerandattempttorelax.

Tomfinishesafewminuteslater.Hepushestheplatesasideandleanscloser."Youwanttotellme

whyyou'rehere?"

"Atthisrestaurant—"
"InReno.Drewdidn'tmentionyoucoming,soIknowitwaslastminute.Andthewayyou'vebeen

acting.You'rerunningfromsomething."

Iswallowhard.Ican'ttellTom.HemightrelaytheinformationtoDrew.Ishakemyhead.No.I'm

nottellinghim.

"Icanrewordtomakeitademand,"hesays.
"It'snotanyofyourbusiness."
Helooksupset.Butwhy?Tombarelyknowsme.Hedoesn'thaveanyrighttoexpectmetoshare

mysecrets.

Anideahitsme.Perfect.Itgetsmeoutofansweringwithouttellinghimtogofuckhimself.
IlookbackatTom."I'lltellyou.Ifyoudosomethingforme."
Hesitsup,intrigued."I'mlistening."
"IhaveanapplicationforaphotographyjobdueatnoontomorrowandIdon'thaveanypictures

forit."

Heshiftsbacktoteasing,shakinghisheadinmockoutrage."Procrastinatingonyourhomework.

Iexpectedbetterfromyou,Willow."

"Hey! You have any idea how hard it is to ask someone to get half naked so you can take sexy

picturesofthem?"

"Itcanbehard."
Oh.Iclearmythroat."Areyoufamiliarwithboudoir?"
Henods.
"Ineedamodel.Ihavetenphotosduetomorrow.Youwouldn'thavetogetnaked.Justunderwear."
"Sure.I'lldoit."
What?
"Try not to look so surprised." He smiles, the picture of confidence. "You want to use my hotel

roomoryouneedsomeplacesexier?"

Myheadisswimming.Tomisgoingtoposeforme.Itakeadeepbreath."No.Thehotelroomis

perfect."

ForTom.
Half-naked.
Infrontofmycamera.

CHAPTERFOUR

Iscantheroomtoassessthelightingsituation.Therearereadinglampsoneachsideofthekingbed.
There'sabrightfluorescentbulbabovethecouch.Thenthere'sthebathroom.

Myoptionsarelimited.ButIcanworkwiththat.Itakeafewpicturesoftheroomtoseehowit

looksonscreen.Toodark,nocontrast.IturnmycameratoTom.Helooksrightintothelens.

"Westartingalready?"heasks.
"Notyet."
Click.It'shardtomakeouthisexpression.Butonethingiscertain.
He'strouble.
Heplayswiththezipperofhishoodie,raisingabrow."Youneedmetostartstripping,Mistress

Photographer?"

Ohyeah.Trouble.
Ittakesgreatrestrainttostaycalmandprofessional."Notyet.We'llstartwithyoufullydressed."
I set my camera down and mess with the lights. With no way to angle them, my options are

limited. I arrange the lamps sans shades until the room is filled with an angelic glow. The soft
lightingwillbeaperfectcontrasttothemischievouslookinTom'seyes.

WhenI'mfinished,Iturnmyattentionbacktohim.
Deepbreath.I'maphotographer.IfIwantanychanceofworkingwithclients,Ineedtogetover

my shyness. Doesn't matter that my current model is smoking hot and about to strip. It's part of the
job.

IlookatTomlikehe'saprop.Okay.That'sit.Ipointtoaspotinfrontofthebed."Canyoustand

there?"

"Naked?"Heteases.
Mycheeksflush.He'saprop."No.Asyouare."
Hemoves.Hishandsgotothezipperofhishoodie.Heraisesabrow."DoIneedtomodel?"
"Ifyouwant."
Somethinginhisexpressionshifts,moreposedandmorerelaxedatonce.Heis modeling. And

he'sgoodatittoo.Hisexpressionisplayfulandsexy.It'sperfect.

Click,click,click.
"Teasethecamera."Imotiontohiszipper."Likeyou'reteasingme."
"Yousure?Don'twanttogetyouallworkedupandsendyouhomewanting."
My cheeks flush again. It's damn hot in here. I have to tease him back, make him think I'm as

comfortablewiththisasheis."It'sanoccupationalhazard."

"Shit.NeverthoughtI'dwanttobeanythingotherthanadrummer."Acockysmilespreadsover

hisfaceasheunzipshishoodie.Heraisesabrowasiftosaydoyouwantme?Iknowyoudo.

My, does he look good on film. Digital, technically. It takes great effort to stay professional.

Somehow,Imanage.Ican'tdomanythings,really.Icanswimforhours.Icancookadecentmeal.
AndIcantakeafantasticsetofphotographs.

Hopefully.
"Takeoffyourshirt."ItcomesoutmoredemandingthanImeanitto."Please."
"You're so polite, Mistress Photographer. Are you trying to butter me up to get me naked?" He

winks.

"WouldIhavetobutteryouup?"
"No.Butmyegoalwaysenjoysagoodstroking."
"You'retryingtomakemeblush,aren'tyou?"

Tomsmiles."I'dnever."
"Right.You'reaniceguy."
Henods."Thenicest."
Hespendsagespullinghisshirtuphisstomach,revealinginchafterinchofdefinedabs.Hehas

thosev-lines.Theymakeitnearlyimpossibletoconcentrate.

Tom doesn't wait for my order. He sits back on the bed and spreads his legs in a position that

invitessomeonebetweenthem.Me.Well,thecamera.

Prop.Ineedtothinkofhimasaprop.Evenifmypalmsaresweatingandmymouthisdry.
Okay.It'swaytoohotinhere.Isetthecameradownanddoawaywithmysweater.
"Didn'trealizeitwasthatkindofphotoshoot."Tomwinksandpatsthebednexttohim."Iwon't

bite.Unlessyouwantmeto."

"No.It'sjust—"
"WherehaveIseenthatbefore?"Hiseyesgotomychest.Well,thetattoojustabovemychest.
"Drew has one." It's quite dramatic. A shattered glass heart, broken and bloody. "His is on his

shoulder."

Tom'seyesfixonmychest."Can'tsayIfindhisnearlyappealingasyours."
"Thanks." I try to come up with some way to change the subject. There are way too many

memoriesattachedtothisthing.Awfulmemoriesthatwillgetinthewayofgettingthisdone.

"Doesitmeananythingspecial?"
I swallow hard. "I got it after I broke up with my ex. To remind myself... of something. That I

couldsurviveabrokenheart,Iguess."Ican'thandlethisconversation.It'stoorevealing.Ipointtothe
tattooonTom'schest."Whataboutyourlion?"

"LovedTheLionKingwhenIwasakid."
"Youdidnot."
"You're right." He spreads his legs wider. "My mom, adopted mom, is an anthropologist. She

alwayshadtribalartonthewalls."Hepointstoherchest."Thisisoneofherfavoritepaintings."

"Didyougetitforher?"Iask.
"Notexactly."
"Whataboutyourarm?"
"Likedthedesign."
"That'sit?"
Henods."Tellyouwhat.I'llthinkalittleharderaboutmynexttat."
"It'syourbody.Youshoulddowhateverpleasesyou."
"Oh,that'swhatyou'reafter."Hereachesforthebuttonofhisjeans.
OhGod.He'sabouttotakethemoff.
"No."Ibitemyliptokeepfromblushing.Okay.Ineedtogetbackbehindmycamera.Outofthe

fray. No chance of getting hurt. I line up another shot of Tom. That's better. "Lie on your back.
Please."

Hisbodystretcheslongasheleansback.That'syummy.IsnapmorephotosthanIcouldeveruse.

Thisangleisn'tquiteright.Itrygettingcloserbutthat'snotit.Theleftside.Yes.

Without instructions, Tom slides his hand down his torso. Like he's going to start touching

himself.

Deep breath. This is normal boudoir stuff. If I can't handle it, then I won't hack it with actual

clients.

God,he'ssexy.Anatural.Click,click,click.Hishandskimsthewaistbandofhisjeans.Click,click,

click.

Hishandisonthewaistbandofhisjeans.Thebutton.

Ican'ttakeitanymore.
IclearmythroatasIsetmycameradown."Maybetryafewsittingup."
He smirks, his eyes catching mine as he sits up straight. He knows how badly I want him. It's

writtenalloverhisface.

Still, he is an accommodating model. He messes around on the bed. Copies half a dozen men's

magazineglamourmodelposes.Kneeling.Onallfours.Stickinghisassintheair.

"Thatbetter?"heasks.
Ilaugh."You'rebetteratbeingsexy."
"AmI?"Hecocksabrow.
"Youknowyou'resexy.Don'tpretendotherwise."Thankgoodnessformycamera.Icouldnever,

in a million years, say anything this potentially embarrassing without the photography equipment
shieldingme."Givemeafewmore.Beyourself."

Hedoes.Heshiftsbackonthebed.Ohlord.Heunzipshisjeans.Slidesthemoffhiships.Tohis

knees.Hisfeet.Heleansback,overtheedgeofthebed.

Oh,shit."Tom,you'regoingtofall."
Hedoesfall.Withquitethethud.Ibitemylip,bracingmyselfforabadreaction.
Buthejumpstohisfeetandlaughsitoff.He'salittlescraped,butit'snobigdeal.
Isetmycameradown."Areyouokay?"
Henodstohisscrapedknee."Occupationalhazard."
He'seffortlessabouteverything.Itmustbenicetotakelifeinstride.Tobefearless.
IlookbackatTom."Thosearegreat.Ishouldhaveplenty."
"Letmesee."
"AfterIeditthem."Andafteracoldshower."You'reagoodmodel."
"Iknow."Hegetsbackintohisclothesandwalkstothedoor.Hisvoicegetsserious."Youcantell

metomorrow.Aboutwhatitisyou'rerunningfrom."

Oh.That.Inoddespitethedreadforminginmygut."Goodnight."
"Sweetdreams,kid."
Theheavydoorslamsintotheframe.
Iplugmycomputerintothewallandgettouploadingtheimages.Theslowprogressbargives

mythoughtstimetosinkin.They'reheavyenoughtoweighmedown.

My first priority is getting far away from Bradley. Done. For now. My second is getting this

applicationin.IfIgetthejob,I'llmoveintoanicebuildingwithsecurityandfrontgatesthatlock.IfI
don'tgetthejob,well,I'llfigureoutsomethinglessdepressingthancrashinginmybrother'sspare
roomuntiltheendoftime.

One day, when I'm good enough, I'll open my own studio. I'll get magazine assignments.

Editorials. Portraits. Beautiful photos that are packed with personality. I can fill in the gaps with
headshotsandboudoir.

Finally, the photos finish uploading. I go over them one by one. In every single shot, Tom is

relaxed,confident,hotasthemoltencenteroftheEarth.Itmustbenicebeingthatcomfortablewith
yourself,yoursexuality.Knowinghowbadlyeveryonewantsyou.

Heliveswithgusto.Itrytoimaginemyselfinoneofhisposes,confidentandsexyandseizingthe

fucking day, but the mental image won't come together. The Willow in my imagination is awkward
andstiff,afraidofwhatmighthappenifshesomuchastakesoffhertanktop,desperatetogetoutof
thespotlightandbehindthecamera.

Inarrowitdowntotenphotographs.There'snotimetogiveeachimagetheeditingitdeserves.

Betterbeasefficientaspossible.Exposure.Color.Contrast.

Myeyelidsgetheavy.Okay.It'snearlythreea.m.Icanfinishthisinthemorning.Igetreadyfor

bed,setthealarmclocktogivemeenoughtimetofinishediting,andsurrendertotheembraceofthe
comforter.

It'sbeensuchalongday.

***

The weight shifts as a man sits on the bed. "I've been thinking about you all night," he says. "Can't
sleep."

Thevoiceisfamiliar.Ineeditinmyears.Needhiminmybed.
Ishiftcloser,untiltheheatofhisbodywarmsmine.Thatelectricityagain.Thistimeit'snotahint.

I'mbuzzinglikeapowerline.

Hismouthgoestomyneck.Thendownmychest.Hepullsmytanktopaside.Histongueflicksover

mynipples.It'saggressiveandpreciseatonce.NothinglikewithBradley.Leaguesbetter.

His lips trail down my stomach. Below my belly button. His hands go to my hips. He pulls my

shortsdownaninch.Hislipspressintothenowrevealedskin.Hedoesitagain.Again.

Untilhe'salmostthere.
Whoishe?Ishouldknow,Ishouldcare.
Thenhismouthisonme,andmywholebodyisabuzz.Ithrashandtugathishair.
Mylipspartandasoundescapes.Amoan.
AndthenI'msayingsomething.
"Tom."
Hisname.
What,Tom?
There'snotellingwithhisfaceplantedbetweenmythighs.Hishairisabouttherightlength.The

rightcolor.

Pleasureoverwhelmsme.Hardtofocusonfiguringoutwhoheis.It'sjustadream.Whatdoesit

matter?Iarchmybackasmysexclenches.HowlonghasitbeensinceI'vecame?

Toolong.
Itugathishair.Almost.
Hislipspressagainstmythigh."Notsohard,kid."Helooksupatme."Saveitforroundtwo."
Thosemischievousgreeneyes.
Tom.
Histongueslidesovermyclit.
Oh,God,Tom.
Nothingelsematters.Nothingbutthepleasurespreadingallthewaytomylimbs.Mybodyshakes

asanorgasmovertakesme.

Ireachforhimandhecomescloser.Hisbodyisontopofmine,warmandheavyinjusttheright

way.Hard.He'shard—hisshoulders,hischest,hisabs.

Hiscock.
Islidesmyhandbelowhisbellybutton,overasofttuftofpubichair.Myfingersbrushhisshaft.

Histip.Thehardmetalofhispiercing.

"Ithoughtyouhadanotherthreeweeks."IgroanasIwrapmyhandaroundhim.
"Notforyou."
Hetakesmyhandandpressesitagainsthishardchest.Ispreadmylegsasheshiftsintoposition.
Almost.
Almost...

CHAPTERFIVE

That dream. God, that dream. I need a swimsuit and a pool and about a million laps. Something to
clearmyhead.SomethingtothinkaboutbesidestheanglesofTom'sbody.

Almost there. The cursor hovers over the Send button. I double-check the email. Cover letter

attached.Resumeattached.Teneditedphotosofsexy,boudoirperfectionattached.

Here goes nothing. I click Send. A second later, the message is sent. And just in time too. It's

fifteentillnoon.Ittakesforevertoeditwithatrackpad.

Mystill-damphairstickstomyskin.Theairconditioninginthelobbyiscrankeduphigh,butI'm

sweatyandflushed.Eventwentyminutesafterashower.

Coffee. I need coffee if I'm going to even fathom getting through today. I find a Thermos of

complimentary java and fill a paper cup to the brim. It's bitter. Stale. So much for rescue. A little
creamandalotofsugarhelptakeituptosemi-decent.

Isinkintooneofthecushychairsandhugmybagintomylap.Theroomcomesintofocus.It's

bright outside. The big glass windows mean the entire lobby is backlit. There are about a dozen
peoplehere.Mostarewaiting,sippingdrinks,staringatcellphones.Normalhotelstuff.

Crap.Tomiswalkingtowardsme.Icrossmyfingersthathehasn'tseenme.HowamIsupposed

tolookhimintheeyesafterthatdream?

Noluck.Henodshello.Amomentlater,heplopsnexttome.
Hetakesalongsipofablackicedcoffeeandholdsuptwopastrybags."Youeatbreakfast?"He

offersmeoneofthebags.

"SupposedtohaveitwithDrew."
"It'salmostnoon.Countthataslunch."
Itakethebag.There'sanegg,cheese,andavocadobagelinside.Doughycomfortfood.Perfect.I

takeagreedybite,chewingandswallowingtoofasttoactuallytasteit."Thankyou."

His eyes go to my complimentary coffee cup. "There's a Peet's down the street if you want

somethingdecent."Heholdsouthisicedcoffee,offeringittome.

Itakeasip.Damnthat'sgood.It'sblackbutthere'snobitterness.It'srichandchocolaty.
WhenItrytohanditback,Tomwavesmeaway.
"Keepit."Heopenstheotherbagandbitesintohisbagelsandwich."Youlooklikeyou'reaboutto

come."

"Idonot."
"Ilikeit."Hestealsmycomplimentarycupandtakesasip."Nowonder.That'stotalshit.Whatdo

younormallydrinkinthemornings?"

"Icangetmyownbeverages."
"Youwanttofightoverit,oryouwanttotellme?"Hetakesanothersip,stickingouthistongue

withdistaste."I'vegotthingstodo,butI'llwait."

Heseemsearnestaboutit.Demandingactually.Okay,ifhewantstogetmecoffee,I'mnotgoing

toturnitdown.

"Darkroast,"Isay."Orcoldbrewicedcoffeeifit'sahotday.Ilikeitsweetandcreamy.Almond

milkifit'savailable.Halfandhalfifit'snot."

"Pickyallofasudden."
"Sorry."
"Don'tbe.Ilikeagirlwhoknowswhatshewants."Hesmiles."Evenifshe'sbossyaboutit."
Oh.He'stalkingaboutsex.Mycheeksflush."Areyou...bossy?"
"IknowwhatIlike."

"Oh."MyheadfillswithdeliciousmentalimagesofTombackonthatbed,unzippinghisjeans,

issuingallsortsofillicitdemands.

"Youlookfuckingadorablewhenyoublush."Hepushesoutofhisseat."GoodthingImadethat

ruleaboutusbeingplatonicorImightgetideas."

"Whatkindsofideas?"
Hecocksabrow."Don'tgothinkingaboutmelikethat,kid.I'mnotthekindofguyyouwanttobe

involvedwith."

InodtoTom."Yeah.Sure.We'rejustfriends."
"Good."Hesmiles."Youhaveaphone?"
I dig my now charged phone out of my purse and hand it to him. He taps a few things into it.

Addinghisnumber,nodoubt.Hiscellbuzzesinthefrontpocketofhisjeans.Ah,hetextedhimself.

Hehandsbackmyphone."Myeyesareuphere."
"Oh yeah. Sorry." It's still too embarrassing to make eye contact. I pretend as if beige wall

oppositeusisfascinatingsoIwon'tturneveryshadeofred.

"I'lltextyouwhattimewe'releavingwhenIknow."
"Thanks."
"Bettergetoutofhere.Gotalotofshittodo."
Itrynottogawkathisassashewalksaway.
Ifail.

***

DrewandKaratakemetoacoffeeshopdownthestreet.Wespendanhourcatchingup.Despitetheir
insistencethatIjointheirfungroupouting,Idecline.

Whentheyfinallyacceptmynoastheendofit,Istreamoneofmyfavoritemovies,BringingUp

Baby,inthehopesoflaughingawaythesexualtensionplaguingmybody.

Myphonebuzzeswithatextmessage.FromTom.HeaddedhimselftomyphoneasTom Steele,

Irresistible.

Tom:Hasyourcomputermeltedfromtheheatofmyphotosyet?
Willow:Almost.SendmeyouremailandI'llsendthemtoyou.
Hedoes.SoIdo.Amomentlater,myphonebuzzeswithanothertext.
Tom:Damn,kid.Itdoesn'ttakealotofworktomakemelooksexyasfuck,butthesearegood.
Willow:Isthatacompliment?
Tom:Yeah.Theseareawesome.
Willow:Thankyou.
Tom:Guessingyou'renotatthethemepark.
Willow:No.Itdidn'tsoundlikemything.Whydidn'tyougo?
Tom:Hadshittodo.Ihaveapropositionforyou.Whatareyoudoing?
I'mnotdoingmuchofanythingbesidessoakingintheairconditioning,butapropositionfrom

TomsoundslikemorethanIcanhandle.

Really, I need to start putting my life in order, one thing at a time. Okay. That isn't the most

excitingactivitybutit'snecessary.

IcheckYelpformyoptions.Onlineappointments,shortwalkfromhere.Done.
Willow:YouthinkasaloncalledACutAboveisanygood?
Tom:Doubtful.
Willow:Ihopeyou'rewrong.Ihaveanappointmentinhalfanhour.I'llseeyoulater.

***

Tomissittingonthesaloncouch,legsspreadinthatrelaxedpositionconfidentguysalwaystake.The
onethatsaysyou'reluckytohavethechancetodroptoyourkneesandblowme.

NotthatI'mwonderingwhatthatmetalstudwouldfeellikeagainstmytongue.
Dammit.SincewhendoIfantasizeaboutgivinghead?
"Hey,kid.What'sup?"Tomsmilesandpatsthespotnexttohim.
Thegirlatthecounterlooksathimwithlust.She'spretty.Shortblackhairandplentyofboobto

filloutherlow-cutblouse.

Tomshootsherafriendlynod.Shebitesherlip,gripsthecounterlikeshe'sgonnapeehertight

blackpants.

"DidDrewaskyoutokeepaneyeonme?"Iask.
Tom nods. "Want to tell me why? Since you owe me an explanation for what you're running

from."

"JustDrewbeingDrew."
"Uh-huh."Heshiftsup,bringinghiskneesabitclosertogether."You'refullofshit."
"Idon'tneedaneyekeptonme."
"Course." He takes a long sip of his iced coffee. "But Miles and Drew are with their girls and

Pete'snotinterestedincompany.So,asmynew,platonicfriend,youhavetokeepmeentertained."

"Thatdoesn'tsoundlikethegiveandtakeofahealthyfriendship."
Tompointstohismostlyfulldrink."I'llletyousharemyicedcoffee."
Thewayhe'slaughing,Imustbedrooling.
"You want me to leave, say the word. I'll find someone to do." His gaze goes to the eager

receptionist.Helooksatherlikehe'sconsideringthepossibilityoffuckingher,fingeringher,eating
herout,something.

"No.Youcanstay."Itakeaseatnexttohim."Youlooklikeyouspendalotoftimeonyourhair."
"You calling me vain?" He runs a hand through his wavy, dark blond hair. Shakes his head in

mockoffense."Sorude,Willow.Gonnakickmeoutofbedwithoutbreakfasttoo?"

"Notexactlyvain.Butyouknowyou'rehandsome."
LikeayoungBradPitt,really.
Fuck,I'mgawking.
"You keep staring, you're gonna give me a complex." He smiles wide. "Willow, Willow, sitting

there,whoisthefairestofthemall?"

"Shutup.Youknowyou'rebeautiful.I'veseenyouinmagazines.Yousoakitin."
"Haveyou?"Heraisesabrow."Whichones?WasInaked?"
"Someofthetime.Buttherewasneveranythingshowing."Mycheeksflush."Ibuyanythingabout

SinfulSerenade.TosupportDrew,youknow?IfI'meverAnnieLeibovitzfamous,hecanbuyallmy
stuff."

Hiskneepressesagainstmine.Thankfullyortragically,we'rebothwearingjeans.Thatmakesthe

heatspreadingthroughmybodytolerable.

Yes.Platonicfriends.Icandothat.
Igrabastackofhairstylebookstokeepmyselfoccupied.
Tom leans closer, watching everything I'm doing. His chest presses against my back. His chin

restsonmyshoulder."Yougoingforanythinginparticular?"

"Something less... well, less." My long hair is heavy against my neck and back. I flip through a

dozenpagesofsimilarlonghaircuts,thekindofsafethingInormallydo.

"Goingshorter?"heasks.

"Yeah."
Tomdragshisfingertipsovermyshoulders."Here?"Hisfingersgrazemyneck."Orhere?"They

moveuptomychin,tracingthelineofmyjawbone,allthewaytomyear."Ormaybehere."

Ashiverrunsdownmyspine.Goddamn,thosefingersonmybody...There'snodoubtaboutit.

Mysexdriveisnotonlyawake.It'sraringandreadytogo.

Iswallowthegaspthatrisesinmythroat."I'mnotsure."
IneedtoconcentrateonsomethingbeforeImelt.Idevoteallmyenergytothestylebook.MaybeI

canworkupthecouragetodosomethingshorter.It'sjusthair.Itshouldn'tbeabigdeal.

Tomtapsmeontheshoulder."Thatone'salotlessinnocent."
Itis.Chinlength,choppy,andstreakedwithbrightblue.
"I'mnotinnocent,"Isay.
"Ofcoursenot.Howmanyguyshaveyousleptwith?"
"Howisthatyourbusiness?Howmanygirlshaveyousleptwith?"
"Ilosttrackaftertwohundred."
That'sso...
Ican'teven.
"Ooo,thejudgmentallookagain."Heshiftstotheleft,grabshiscoffee,andreturnshiskneestoa

blowme,pleaseposition."You'recutejudgmental."

"I'mnotjudgmental.Justsurprised."
Hestaresbackatme,challengingme.
"Ifyouweregoingtoballparkit..."
"Fourhundred.Maybefive."
Myjawrefusestostayinplace.
"I'malwayssafe.Evenwithoral."
"I'mnotjudging."
"Gettestedeverythreemonths."
Inod."That'sveryresponsibleofyou."
"Alwaysbeenclean."
"That'sgreat."
"You'reblushing."
"No,I'mnot."
"Yeah,youare."Helaughs."It'scute."
Istarebackatthehairstyle."It'stoomuch.I'lllooksilly."
"You'lllookhot."Hisfingertipsbrushmyshoulder."Butdowhatevermakesyouhappy."
He thinks I'll look hot. I press my eyelids together, attempting to imagine myself as the kind of

womanwhocouldpulloffsuchaboldstyle.

Tom runs his hand through my hair, pulling it back to approximate the length of the cut. "You

shoulddopink.Tomatchyourcheeks."Heshifts,lookingmeintheeyes."Doyouwanttodoit?"

Ido.Iwanttodosomethingdifferent.
Tom brushes a stray hair behind my ear. His fingers linger on my cheek. "Then what are you

waitingfor?Doit."

He makes it sound easy. I'm sure, for Tom, it is that easy. He wants something, he takes it. No

hesitation.Nosecondguessing.Nodoubt.

"Willow!"Ahairdresserwithamessypixiecutandasleekblackdresscallsmyname.
Salvation.IstandandnodgoodbyetoTom.
"I'llbehere,"Tomsays.

"Whataniceboyfriend,waitingforyou.Wishmyhusbandwoulddothesame."Shesmiles."I'm

Gina."

Weshakehands.Idon'tcorrecther.
"Youknowwhatyouwant?"sheasks.
MygazegoestoTom.He'shalflookingathisphone,halflookingatme.Thosegreeneyes,that

smileonhisface,thelinesofthetattoopeekingoutfromhisv-neck...

Yeah.IknowwhatIwant.
Andit'sdifferent.
It'sreallyfuckingdifferent.

CHAPTERSIX

Myhairisshort,justpastmychin,andthetipsarepink.

It'sperfect.
I'mnotthatnaivegirlwhodidn'tknowbetter.I'mdangerous,sexy.Thekindofgirlwhodemands

whatshewants.Anedgyphotographerwhodoesn'ttakeshitfromanyone.

Ithankthestylistasshepullsbackthecape.Ittakesmeafullminutetoregainmysenses.
Tom is at the counter, not quite flirting with the receptionist, but certainly soaking up her

admiration.

"Oh my Gosh. That song... what's it called? No Way in Hell. That one's my favorite. The beat is

amazing.Evenmyfriendswhoonlylistentodubsteplikeit."

"Thanks,honey."Heleanscloser,smilingather.
"Andthelyrics...OhmyGosh.Sweet.Isitreallytruethat...what'shisname?Yoursinger.Didhe

reallywritethatabouthisgirlfriend?"

"Yeah.He'scrazyabouther."
"Whataboutyou?Crazyaboutanyone?"
"Nah,Idon'tdothatkindofthing."
Shegiggles."What'sthelyricinthesong?"Shestartshumming."Noway,notme,Idon'tdothis

kindofthing?"

"That'sit.
Tomsmilesbutthere'sahintofirritationinhisexpression.Hemustbetiredofhearingthisover

andoveragain.

Shehandsbackhiscreditcard.
Whatthehellishiscreditcarddoingout?
Hesignsthereceiptandhandsitbacktoher."Thanksalot,honey.I'llpassthecomplimenton."
"Sure." The smiles falls off her face as she looks at me. She leans in closer, to whisper. "Is that

yourgirlfriend?"

"No.Justarealgoodfriend.Thanksfortakingsuchgoodcareofher."
"ItwasallGina."Shegiggles."ButGinaonlylistenstocountry.Idoubtsherecognizesyou."
"Whatareyoudoingpayingforme?"Iask.
"It'snobigdeal."
"It'sabigdealtome."Ilookattheflirtyreceptionist."Howmuchwasit?"
Tomgrabsmywristashemakespuppydogeyesather."Don'ttellher.She'srealdemanding."
Shenods,attentive,readytofollowanyorderhehas."Ofcoursenot.Bye,Tom!"
Heshootsheraflirtywaveashepullsmeoutofthestore.
Hishandsgotomywaist.Heholdsmeinplace,mybodypressedagainsthis.
Dammit.I'mnotgoingtoletlustdistractmefrommypoint.Iswallowthesighrisinginmythroat.

"TomSteele,howmuchwasthat?"

"Abouttwohundreddollars."
"What?"
"Itippedwell."Herunshishandthroughmynowchin-lengthhair."Youlookgreat.Badassand

sexy."

Ilookbadassandsexy.
Deepbreath."Okay.IwillpayyoubackassoonasIgetajob."
"Aboutthat."
"Yeah?"

"Let's talk over lunch. There's a Thai place around the corner. Or would you prefer something

different?"

"Idon'twanttotalkoverlunch.Iwanttopayyouback."
"Youwill.Later.Itrustyouforit."
"Fine. Thai is good." My stomach growls at the thought of that spicy eggplant dish. "But I'm

paying."

"Whateveryouwant."
"It'ssupercheap,isn'tit?"
Henods.

***

Afterweorder—theeggplantdishforme,shrimpcurryforTom—Icheckmyemailonmyphone.

Oh, God. It's here. A reply to my application. I take a deep breath. That was too fast. It's either

greatnewsorterriblenews.

Heregoesnothing.
DearWillow,
Thankyouforapplying.Youshowgreatpromise.Unfortunately,we'veselectedanothercandidate

withmoreexperience.

Bestofluck
No.
No,no,no.
Idropmyphoneonthetableandlooktowardsthefloor.WhatthehellamIgoingtodonow?
"Hey.Youokay?"Tom
No."Ididn'tgetthephotographyjob."
"Sorry,kid."
I need to clear my head before I think about this. There must be something I can do, something

betterthanplayingDrew'sshadowindefinitely.

Igrabmycameraandlineupafewshots.Theneatlyarrangedhotsauce.Thesteamcomingoffa

bowlofnoodles.

AndTom,staringatmewithanexpectantexpression.
"Yousurewecan'tdonudesthistime?"heasks.
Mycheeksflush.I'mnervousenoughthattherejectiononlybarelystings.Tomisquitethesubject.

Imesswiththeblindsuntilthelightingisjustrightandsnaphalfadozenshots.

"What'sthepointofthese?"Hesetshiselbowonthetable,leansagainsthispalm,bored.
Impatient, demanding Tom. He looks great on the screen. The pictures are bursting with

personalityandhe'sbarelydoinganything.

"Practice for me." I line up the condiments and take another few shots. "You owe me for that

payingformebullshit."

"HowcanIoweyouforpayingforyou?Thatdoesn'tmakesense."
"Youknowitdoes."
He smirks. There. Photographic evidence that he knows he's wrong! Ha. My triumph is over

quickly.Tomgrabsthecamerafrommyhandsandtapsafewbuttonsonit.

Itrytograbitbackbuthestandsandholdsitup.
"Don'tlookatthose,"Isay.
"Youtakenakedself-portraits?"
"No."

"Thenwhynot?"
Istruggletocomeupwithanexplanation.Mypicturesarepersonal,butIneedtogetoverthatif

I'mevergoingtobeaprofessional."Nevermind.It'sfine."

"These are good too." He hands back the camera. "I have a proposition for you. We have a

photographerforourshows.Hazel.She'sbeentalkingabouttakingonanassistantforthetour.Would
youbeinterested?"

"HazelasinHazelAlexander?"She'salegendofportraitphotography.
"Yeah,that'sit."
God,yes.Ialmostbitemytongue.Ialmostforgethowtobreathe."Yes.Ofcourse."
"Cool.I'llcallherafterweeat."
"Callhernow."
Hecocksabrow."Demandingagain."
"Callhernow,please."
"Maybe...notsurewhatIgetoutofit."Hesmiles."Maybeifyoumakeitworthmywhile."
"Anything."
"Thoughtyou'dsaythat."
God,hislookissmug.Iwanttoslaphimandkisshimatthesametime.
Tom shifts back, slides his knees open to that blow me position. "I need to do a little work

rehabbingmyimage.Sincemy—"Hemotionstohiscrotch."Haven'tbeengoinghomewithlingerie
modelsonmyarm.Tabloidsareforgettinghowmuchtheyloveme."

"So,what,youneedtogototheclubsanddancewithothercelebrities?"Iask.
"AndIneedsomeonetocaptureit."Hepointstome."Someonewhowilllooknaturalonmyarm."

Hiseyesscanmybody."Nooffense.Causeyoulookgoodinthattightsweater.ButthewomenIhave
onmyarmstendtodressabitmore—"

"Slutty?"
"Tsk.Tsk."Heshakeshisheadinmockoutrage."Sojudgmentalofwomenwhoshowofftheirtits

andass."

"I'mnotjudging.IfIhadany,I'dshowoff."
Tom'seyesgostraighttomychest.Hedoesn'tevenpretendhe'snotstaring.
"Youhavesome."Desirespreadsoverhisface."Betyoulookdamngoodnaked.Washopingto

getyouthatwaywhenIsawyouinmyroom."

My cheeks flush. I look for a sign he's joking, but there's none. "You do realize that platonic

friendsdon'thavethesekindsofconversations?"

"Whocareswhatpeopleusuallydo?Ourfriendship,ourrules."
Thatmakessense.Kindof.
"Ifitbugsyou,I'llstop."Hemakeseyecontact."Youwantmetostop?"
Mycheeksflush.
Tomsmiles."Didn'tthinkso."
"Iwouldlikeyoutogettothepoint.Please."
Hisgazegoestomychestforalongmomentthenit'sbacktomyeyes."Ineedhelpmaintaining

therockandrollimage.Shouldonlybeonceeverycoupleweeks."

"Okay."
"You'rejudgingagain."
Ishakemyhead."Justcurious."
"Things go better if the press is talking about me taking home a lingerie model than if they're

askingwhywecanceledoursecondtourorlookingformybiologicalmomorrealizingMileswas
MIAforthreemonths."

"Oh."
"Yeah.Theotherguys,theydon'twantattentionunlessit'sabouttheirmusicaltalents.Miles,when

he was single, he didn't mind so much—the playboy thing. But it's better if people don't look too
close.Theyseethecracks."

"You'rekeepingtheattentiononyoursluttywayssonoonebothersyourbandmates?"
Henods.
It'ssweetinastrangeway.
Tommaybeabadboy,he'sahellofagreatguy.
"I want the pictures you sent me. For my Instagram." He smiles. "There are gonna be a lot of

vibratorsrunningoutofbatterytonight."

He'seffortlesswiththatclaim.Hey,I'mTom.Womenaregoingtomasturbatetomyphotographs

tonight.Nobigdeal.

Wait.HethinkswomenaregoingtomasturbatetophotographsItook?I'mnotsureifIshouldbe

flatteredoroffended.

"Howdoyouwantmetocredityou?"heasks."Doyouuseyourrealnameorastagename?"
I can't use my real name. Bradley might look me up. Okay. Might as well do like Drew and

channelthedarkknight."HowaboutWillowWayne?"

Helaughs."LikeBatman?"
"Isthataproblem?"
"No.Justdidn'tthinkyouwereintorichguyswhobeatpeopleup."Hepullsouthisphone.
"Areyougoingtopayme?"
"Sure.Let'ssay,Igetyouforfivesessions.Athousandbuckseachsession."
I can't have heard that right. A thousand dollars per session. That's insane. I can afford a new

camera,newlenses,newlights.I'llbehalfwaytostartupcostsformyownstudio.Andthat'sbefore
whateversalaryIgetfromHazel.

Inod."Yes.God,yes."
"You'regonnaneedsomedifferentclothes.Forwhenwegoout."
"Sure.Anything."
"Youshouldn'tletmeknowhowbadyouwantit."Heleanscloser."IfIwaslessscrupulous,I'd

takeadvantageofthat."

Mybreathcatchesinmythroat."You'renotscrupulous."
"True."Hisgazegoestomychest."AndIdon'thavetoblackmailmywayintogettinglaid."
"Ofcourse."
"Butstill.You'vegotalottolearnaboutnegotiating."
Inod.Sure.I'lllearnaboutnegotiating.AnythingaslongasIcanhavethisjob."CanwecallHazel

now?"

"It'skindafunmakingyouwait."
"Please."
"Ibetyoulookgoodbeggingonyourknees."
Lord help me, I'm more than willing to beg on my knees for the chance to work with Hazel

Alexander."Don'ttemptme.I'lldoit."

"Don't.Ifyougetonyourknees,I'llgetideas."
Yes.
So.
Many.
Ideas.
Tomdialshisphoneandholdsittohisear.

Damn.Voicemail.
I'mstillwaitingtofigureoutwhatthehellmyfutureholds.

CHAPTERSEVEN

The mall is bright, clean, totally void of personality. Dark tile floor, high ceilings, big windows
lettinginthedesertsun.

My eyes stay glued to Tom's jeans, to the pocket where he keeps his phone. Hard to remember

whatwe'redoinghere.Hazelstillhasn'treturnedhiscall.

Sheneedstosayyes.
IhavenocluewhatI'lldoifshedoesn'tsayyes.
Theairconditioningsendsgoosebumpsovermyflesh.Irubmybicepswithmypalmstofighta

shiver.Itdoesn'thelp.Abrrrescapesmylips.

Tomslideshisarmaroundmywaist,pullsmybodyintohis.
It'snotcoldanymore.
It'sscorching.
Thisisnotatallappropriateforplatonicfriends,butGodknowsI'mnotabouttopointthatout.

Hisbodyfeelsgood.

Toogood.Mymindgoesblankexceptforthisloudvoicescreamingmore.
I step aside. It's the only way to keep my wits about me. We're ten feet from a chain department

store.Iguesswe'rehereforclothes.SoIcanlookliketheproperkindofhit-the-clubswomanwho
belongsonTom'sarm.

Mygazegoesbacktothefrontpocketofhisjeans.
"Willow.Hello."Hewaveshishandinfrontofmyface."What'sinterestinginmypants?Besides

theobvious."

Isaynothing.
"Ifyouwantmetowhipitout,youshouldask.Staringwon'tgetyouanywhere."
Whipitout?Seriously?ThemanisderangedifhethinksI'dactuallyaskthat.
"Youokay?"
Ishakemyhead."WhatifHazelsaysno?"
"Shewon't."
"Howdoyouknowthat?"
"Youwantmetocallheragain?"
"Ofcourse."
"Hmm...Idon'tknow.What'sinitforme?"
"Please."
Heletsoutasoftgroanbutsaysnothingaboutit.
"Please."Ipressmypalmstogether.Self-respectismuchlessimportantthanworkingwithHazel

Alexander."I'llbeg."

"Don't beg. I'll get ideas." He slides his arm around my lower back and holds me in place. His

otherhandgoestohisphone.Hedialsandbringsthethingtohisear."Hey,Hazel.It'sTom."

Success!Icanjustbarelyhearherontheotherline.
She's no-nonsense. "Yes... if you know she's dependable... Lot of grunt work... Look forward to

meetingWillowtomorrow."

"Later." Tom hangs up his phone and slides it into his pocket. He releases his grip around my

waistthenlooksathisarmlikehe'snotsurehowitgotthere.

"Shesaidyes?"Iask.
Hestaresbackatmewithawidesmile,clearlyenjoyingtormentingme."Didshe?"
"You'rekillingme."

"Yes,shesaidyes.She'slookingforwardtomeetingyou."
I throw my arms around him and squeeze tight. Tom steps back, surprised, then he moves

forward.Hugsmeback.

Hefeelsgood.Hard.Safe.
"Youthatexcited?"Hisvoiceisapprehensive.
"Yeah."Ipullmyarmstomysides."Sorry.Ishouldn'thavejumpedatyoulikethat."
"It'sallright.Justsurprising."
Itis?Buthe'sexperienced."You'vesleptwith500differentwomen."
"Don'treallystoptocuddle."Herunsahandthroughhishair."Ijust...uh."Heshoveshishands

intohispockets."You'regoingtostaythroughthetour?"

Fuckyes.I'llstayanywheretoworkwithHazelAlexander.Inod.
"Then you'll need clothes. You only have that." He nods to my messenger bag. "You need help

pickingoutstuffforclubsoryouhavethatcovered?"

"Icanmanage."Probably.
"Just,uh,makesureyoupickoutsomelingerie."
Say what? I stare back into Tom's eyes but it doesn't help me figure out what he's getting at.

"Why?"

Hepullsouthiswalletandcountsoutathousanddollarsinhundreds."It'sasurprise."
Heisincrediblyobviousabouthandingmethemoney.
Ishoveitinmypursebeforeanyonecangetideasaboutmuggingme."Whatisthis?"
"Anadvanceonyoursalary.We'regoingtotakeourfirstsetofpicturestoday.Geteverythingyou

needfortherestofthetour.Plusatleastonesetofmatchinglingerie."

Iraiseaneyebrow.Hejustsmilesandnodstoabenchoutsidethedepartmentstore."I'llbehere."

***

Ittakestwolong,exhaustinghoursofshoppingtogeteverythingIneed.AfterIfinish,Tomleadsme
to the parking garage, back to his flashy red convertible. It's a bright contrast against the beige
concretewallsandthedustyasphalt.

Tomunlocksthetrunk,stuffsmybagsinside.Somethinginhisexpressionchanges.Thesoftness

inhiseyesisdisarming.

Heleansagainstthecarnexttome."Listen,kid.IhatetoriskruiningthemoodbutIneedtoknow

whatitisyou'rerunningfrom."

"Why?"
"Adealisadeal."
It'strue.Adealisadeal.Itakeadeepbreath.Theairsmellsofgasoline.It'squiet.Icanhearmy

heartbeat.

"You'renotokay,"hesays.
"Yes,Iam."
"You'rerunningfromsomethingbad,huh?"
"No.Just..."Ipullmyhandsintomylap."Justthenormalstuff."
"Normal.Isthatwhyyou'recringing?"
"I'mnot."
"Yeah,youare.Whateveritis,it'snotnormal."
Iturntofacehim."It'sverynormal."
"Bullshit.YouwantmetocallHazelandtellheryou'realiar?"
"Wouldyoureallydothat?"

"Imight."Hestaresintomyeyes."BeenknowntodowhateverittakestogetwhatIwant."
"Youswearyouwon'ttellDrew?"
"Whyshoulditmatterif—"
"SwearorI'mnottellingyou."
Henods.
Panic fills my stomach. I stare back at Tom. There's something earnest about him, something

trustworthy.Butthat'snotenough.Ineedtobesure.

"Seriously,"Isay."IfyoutellDrew,everythingisgoingtobefucked.Youhavetopromise."
"Iwon'ttellhim.We'refriends.Anysecretofyoursisjustbetweenus.Samegoesforanysecret

ofmine."

"Okay."
Hisshoulderpressesagainstmine.He'swarm.
"I live in an apartment in Berkley. A little studio in a six unit building. Mom didn't take me

changingmymajortophotographytoowell.Imovedoutbeforeshehadthechancetokickmeout.
The place is a great deal and about all I can afford. I don't really have a choice about moving. Not
withoutsomeseriouscash."

Hestaresbackatme."Igetthat."
"Myex-boyfriendshowedupasmynewnextdoorneighbor.Convincedmylandlordthathe'sa

nice,dependableguyIguess."

"Hehurtyou?"
"Someonealwaysgetshurtwhenarelationshipends."
"Hehityou?"
Ican’tanswerthat."Idon'twanttobearoundhim.That'sall."
"Yeah,sure."
Hisfingertipsbrushmywrist.Thetouchissoftanddelicate.Howcansomeonewhocomesinlike

aGoddamnwreckingballhavesuchadelicatetouch?

I say nothing. He responds with silence. We lean against the car, him looking at me, me trying

hardnottonoticehowhe'sstaring.

Minutes pass. My heartbeat, my breath—both slow to something normal. Until the only thing

mixingmeupishowbadlyIwantthecomfortofTom'sarmaroundmeagain.

Istepsideways,adjustmyclothes,anythingtokeepmyhandsbusyandmymindoccupied.
"Youhaveapictureorsomething?"Tomasks."Forourheadofsecurity.I'llmakesurehekeepsit

fromDrew."

I nod. There are lots of pictures of him online, from his college football days. I pick the most

recentone.

"Thanks."Tomborrowsmyphoneforaminutethenhandsitback."It'sokay.I'llmakesurehe's

notaround."

"It'snothing."
"Yeah.Ofcourse."
Inod.Ofcourseit'snothing.ButI'mnotsellingthatstory.Notevenalittlebit.
Tomstudiesme.HemustdecideI'mokay,becausetheseriouslookdropsoffhisface.
He slides his arm around my waist. "You're probably caffeine deprived. Let's get a coffee or

something."

***

Afteranalmondmilklatteandaone-sidedconversationabouthorrormovies,Iamover-caffeinated
andsufficientlydistracted.It'sclearwhyTomrunsaroundlikeamonkeyoncocaine.Themandrinks
anungodlyamountoficedcoffee.

Hisfingertipsskimmypalm.He'sbacktohisusualbouncyself.Nocracks,nosoftness,nosigns

he'severbeenhurt.

Helooksmeintheeyes."Youfeelingproperlyenergized?"
"Yeah."
"Good.Ihaveanidea.Wanttoindulgeme?"
"Dependsonwhatyourideais."
"Thetabloidsneedtoknowaboutmynewfuckbuddy,"hesays.
I'mnotfollowing."Youdon'thaveafuckbuddy."
"SureIdo."Henodstome."She'samysterygirlwithanedgyhairstyleandgreattasteinmen."
Hemeansme.Okay.Thismightwork.
"You'regame?"Heasks.
Maybe.Inodanyway.
"Thenlet'stakeapictureofusfucking."

CHAPTEREIGHT

Let'stakeapictureofusfucking.

Hasbreathingalwaysbeenthisdifficult?
"Thehairreallydoesmatchyourcheeks,"Tomsays.
"Areyououtofyourdamnmind?"
"AndyouthinkIwouldbefuckbuddieswithsomeonesoshy."Tomshakeshishead.Hepointsto

thedepartmentstoreacrossfromus."We'regoingtotakeapictureinthatdressingroomandyou're
goingtoleakittoacelebnewssite."

"We'regoingtotakeapictureofusfuckinginthatdressingroom?"Iblinkwaymorethanany

personshould."Youdon'tmean..."

"OfcourseIdon'tmean...We'llcheatit.Don'ttellmeyoudon'tknowhowtocheatashot."
Mybodyrespondswithgusto.Heartracing,heatbuildingbetweenmylegs.Ittakesmyheadafew

momentstocatchup.Theassignmentisunorthodox,butIcandoit."WhatifDrewseesit?"

"Hewon't."
"Yousureaboutthat?"
"If you even say the words TMZ around Drew, he glares at you and threatens to hit someone."

Tomnods."Ifhedoesseeit,I'llexplainwhatwe'redoing.Hewon'tlikeit,butfuckhim.Youwantto
spendyourlifemakingdecisionsbecauseyou'reworriedyourbrotherisgoingtohitsomeone?"

"That'snotit,exactly."
"Willow,it'syourlife.Ifyoudon'twanttodoit,tellme.Butifyoudowanttodoit,thenfucking

goforit.Don'tletanythingstopyoufromtakingwhatyouwant."

"I'dbemorereceptivetoyourmessageifIdidn'tthinkyouweretryingtomanipulateme."
"I don't need to manipulate women into pressing themselves against me. If you aren't game, I'll

findanothermodel."Hescansthecoffeeshop,hisgazefixingonatallwomanwithlighthair."ButI'd
rathernotleadheron."

No.Idon'twanthimpressedagainstthatotherwoman.
Helooksatme."Areyouinorout?"
Itakeadeepbreath,cultivatingthegoforitconfidencespreadoverTom'sface.Icandothattoo.I

canbethekindofpersonwhosaysyestolifeinsteadofhidingbehindmycamera.

Intheory.
Enoughhesitation.I'llfigureoutwhatkindofpersonIwanttobelater.Rightnow,Ineedtoplease

myclient.Imakeeyecontact."I'min."

"Thenlet'sgo."

***

TomtearsthetagsofftheblacklacebraandpantysetIboughtatthedepartmentstore."Ilikeyour
taste.Classy."

Mycheeksflush.Itrymybesttoshiftintoprofessionalmode.We'reinthehandicappedstallofa

dressingroom,notastudio,butIcandothis.

"Is the goal something we're taking for our depraved pleasure or something that belongs on

Instagram?"Iask.

"Eitherway."
"They'redifferent.Theformerwillbemessy,moreaboutthephysicalandlessaboutthepropsor

anything.Butyou'veseenpicturesonsocialmedia.Peopleposethem,gettheirlattearrangednextto
theirbook,nexttotheirplateofgrapes.Noonereallysitsthatneatly.Youknow?"

Henods."Prettyandsmart.Pickedagoodfakefuckbuddy."
He'sthinksI'mprettyandsmart.I'mnotsurewhichismoreflattering.Iclearmythroattokeep

desirefromswallowingmewhole.

"Iwantittolooklikeyouleakedthispicture.It'suptoyou."
"Then I don't need this." I point to my camera, return it to my purse, and fish out my cell. "It

should look heat of the moment. Like we were so desperate to fuck that we nearly ripped off our
clothes."

"ThisiswhyIneedyou,kid."Hepullshist-shirtoverhisheadanddropsitonthefloor."Good?"
Mygazegoestohischest,hisstomach,thesofttuftofhairsbelowhisbellybutton.Verygood.

Great.Amazing.

Iunlockmyphone,openthecameraapp."Maybeafewlikethis.Sorta...youstrippingforme."
Hecocksabrow."You'reenjoyingthis,aren'tyou?"
"Awomanshouldenjoyherwork."
Tomlaughs.Hemotionstothewaistbandofhisjeans."Thesetoo."
"Not yet." I snap a few shots of him, waist up. God, he's yummy. Unbearably yummy. It's

practicallyobjective.

Igrabthebraandpantiesandtossthemaside.Timetothinklikeaphotographer.Ifweweregoing

tofuckinhere,we'dhaveafewgoodoptions.There'stheseat.Bigenoughformetoclimbontopof
him.Orhecouldliftmeandpushmeagainstthewall.Orturnmearoundandtakemefrombehind.

Aflushspreadsovermycheeksanddownmychest.
Ipullmysweaterovermyheadandtossitontheground.
Tom's eyes go to my exposed skin. My shoulders, my neck, my chest. His cheeks flush. He's

checkingmeout.

Hewantsme.
But he made it clear we're only friends. I'm keeping this professional. Well, as professional as

pretendingtofuckinadressingroomcanget.

Ipressmycelltomychest."Comeon.Let'sgetposing.Grabmeandpressmeagainstthewall."
"Bossyallofasudden."
"Justdoit."
"As you wish, Mistress Photographer." Tom slides his arms under my ass and lifts me. "Wrap

yourlegsaroundme."

I do. It puts us in quite the compromising position. He shifts, holding me against the wall. His

crotchpressesintomine.

"Not sure if this will come out well." I hold my phone over my head, press my cheek against

Tom'stoshieldmyfacefromthecamera,andtakehalfadozenphotos.

"Can'tcomplainabouttheworkingconditions."Heshiftshisbodyintomine,pressingmeharder

againstthewall.

God,thatfeelsgood.ItakeadeepbreathsoIwon'tbetotallyred."Canyousetmedown?"
Hedoes.Ifocusallmyattentiononthepictures.Mostofthemaregarbage—awhiffofhairora

strangeangleonthefloor—butafewareintherightdirection.Theyfocusonthetattoospanninghis
shoulderblades,hisarmsaroundthemysterygirlwithshortpink-tippedhair.

IshowTomthewinners.
Hepointstosomethingontheimage."Yourstrapsareshowing."
Istarebackathim,unblinking.
"Keepyourtopon,kid.Butpushthestrapstoyourshouldersorsomething."
"Youbetterhopeyou'rerightaboutDrewnotseeingthese."

"I'mnotworriedaboutDrew.Pushcomestoshove,Icantakehim."Hemotionsformetoadjust

mytop.

I pull my tank and bra straps off my arms. They hang under my armpits. It's unflattering from

straighton,butitshouldworkfromoverhead.

"Okay.Pressmeagainstthewall."Ibracemyselffortheslightimpact.
"Mmm,sobossy."Heslideshisarmsaroundmeandpullsusintoposition.
Somehow,we'recloserthistime.Icanfeelhisheartbeatingagainstmychest,hisbreathagainst

myneck.

Hislipsbrushmyskin.Hisfingersdigintothefabricofmyjeans.
I shift, trying to get comfortable, trying to focus on taking pictures. Click, click, click. Then

anotherangleandafewmoreforgoodmeasure.

"Wllllw."Tom'svoiceismuffled."Yrrrtttsrrrprsssdtooomyyyfaaaa."
"Huh."
Hebringshishandtomyshouldersandadjustsmyposition."Yourtitsarepressedintomyface."
"Oh."
"Notcomplaining.Justmeans...shit."Hisgriparoundmetightens.Heblushes.
WhyisTomblushing?
Isqueezehisshoulders,tryingandfailingnottoslip.
Oh.
He'shard.
Hiserectionispressedagainstmycrotch.Lotsofdeniminbetweenusbutthere'snodenyingit.
Tomishard.
Mybrainrefusestofocusonanythingelse.
"Guessthisishowactorsfeelwhentheyshootsexscenes."Tomblushes.Heliftsmehigher,sowe

aren'tpressedquiteascloselytogether."Youwantdown?"

"No."Itakeadeepbreath."Twomore."
He motions to my chest. "Be careful with those things. I can't exactly get my rocks off with the

salesgirlwhowascheckingmeout."

"No?Whyisthat?"
"It's not nice to tease a man who isn't allowed to masturbate." He smiles, confident, but still

blushing.

"Youlookreallycutewithyourcheekspink,"Isay.
"You'reblushingtoo."Hegrabsmyhipsandholdsmeagainstthewall."Youknow,themallwill

closeeventually."

Ibringmyphoneovermyheadandsnapanothersetofpictures.ThenItryafewfromtheside.

"Okay.Letmedown."

Tom keeps me pressed against the wall as he shifts back, breaking the contact of our bodies. I

slidedownthewall,settingmefeetdownoneatatime.

He'sstillhard.Ionlybarelymanagetoavoidgawking.It'sreallyamarvelofdenimtechnology

thathisjeanscontainhim.

Tomisnotatallshyaboutrestinghischinagainstmyshouldertocheckoutthepictures.It'snot

as if he's intentionally rubbing against me. Just that he's not avoiding me. Not at all awkward. It's
remarkablehowcomfortableheiswithhisbody.

Igothroughthepictures,pointingoutthewinnersanddeletingtheothers.Whenwe'refinished,

hehelpsmegetmystrapsbackintopositionandsendsthephotostohimself.

"I'lltakecareofleakingthese."Heshiftsintohisclothes."Youokay,kid?"
"Yeah.Great."

"Gottasay,thatwasthefirsttimeIeverpaidtogethard."
That only makes the blushing situation worse. "I... uh... well, that's not really... exactly what you

werepayingfor."

Tomsmiles."You'recute."
"Uh...thanks."
"Comeon."Heslideshisarmaroundmywaist."Let'sgetoutofherebeforeIgetanyideasthat

willgetmeintotrouble."

CHAPTERNINE

We grab Mexican food on the way back to the hotel. There's a sleek black bus parked behind the
building.It'sunmarked.

"It'snotbadonceyougetusedtoit."Tomnodshellotoatall,burlymaninablackpoloshirtand

blackslacks."Ourheadofsecurity,Xander."

Heintroducesme,andXanderopensthedoorsforus.
"Afteryou."Tomhelpsmeontothesteps.
"Thanks."Iclimbintothemysteriousvehicle.It'snotquiteasdarkontheinside.It'snice,actually.

Clean,welllit,huge.

Therearetwopeoplesittingonacouchinthefront.Aleggywomanwithdramaticfeaturessitsin

thelapofatallblue-eyedman.She'saboutmyage.He'safewyearsolder.

"Hey,"hesays."YoumustbeWillow.I'mMilesWebb."Hepointstohimself."Vocals,lyrics,sex

appeal."

"I'mMegSmart,"shechimesin."DoIgetasnappyintroduction?"
Hesqueezesher."MegSmart.Wit.Beauty.Medicalservices."Mileslaughs."Okay,Icanadmitthat

needssomework.Howabout—Wit.Beauty.JurassicParkreferences?"

Sheattemptsone."MegSmart.FutureDoctor.Ifshecaneverescapeherboyfriend'simmensesex

appealandactuallycrackopenabook."

He grabs her and pulls her into an especially deep kiss. When they're done necking (it takes

severalminutes),wegothrougharoundofhandshakes,andtheyturntheirattentionbacktotheTV.
They'replayingaStarWarsvideogame.She'swinning.

Tomgivesmethegrandtourofthebus.Fromfronttoback,itgoes:TVarea,kitchenette/table,

bunkbeds,andprivatebedroom.Whenthebandisn'tspendingthenightinseparatehotelrooms,they
taketurnsinthebedroom.Mostlyit'sforsex.

"Yes!IknewI'dgetyou."Thewomansqueals."Miles...Istillwon,evenifyou're..."
"Mhmm."Hepresseshislipsagainstherneck.Hishandsslidearoundherwaist.
A moment later, they're making out like no one is watching. She pulls herself away with great

effort.

"You'reDrew'ssister,right?"Shewavestome.
"Yeah."
ShelooksupatTom."Youanglingforanotherblackeye?Youmesswithmynewfriend,Willow,

andI'llbetheonetogiveittoyou."

"Whyyoucomplainsomuch?Shitworkedforyou.ShitworkedoutforKara,"Tomsays.
Megnodsreluctantly.
"YoushouldacceptthatI'mafuckinggenius,"Tomsays.
"Next time you meddle, can you skip the part where my heart is broken and I barely manage to

findtheenergytostudyforfinals?"Megasks.

"Where'sthefuninthat?"Tomteases.
Mileschuckles.He'stheSinfulSerenadesinger.Hisvoiceisjustassexyinperson.Ireplayoneof

theirmorepopulartracksinmyhead.It'sbreathy,tortured.He'stallerthanTom.Alittlelessbuiltbut
certainlynoslouch.

Gorgeousblueeyes.
Chiseledfeatures.
He'sanyone'sdefinitionofhandsome.
Iwillmybodytoreact,towanthimandnotTom.Yes,hehasagirlfriend,butit'sonlyatest.

Istareathisstrong,tattooedchest.He'ssexybutmybodyisapathetic.
MeglooksatTomcuriously."Hey.HowcomeIhaven'tseenyouwithanygirlslately?"
Tom'shandplopsonmyshoulder,andmyGoddamnbodyfloodswithelectricity.Iswallowthe

sighrisinginmythroat.

"Thisisagirl,"Tomsays.
MileswhisperssomethinginMeg'sear.Herjawdrops.Hercheeksgored.
ShelooksatTom."Youdidnot."SheturnsbacktoMiles."WhywouldTomgethiscockpierced?"
"Babe,youshouldaskhimthat."Herunshishandthroughherhair."Unlessyou'rerequesting—"
"NotifIhavetogosixweekswithouthearingyoucome."Hercheeksturnred."Oh,God.Sorry.I

forgotyouguyswerethere."

"Please,"Tomsays."YoutwoarelouderthanPete.Wherethefuckishe?"
Milesnodstothebedroom."Sleepingoffhishangover."
"Howdoyouknow?"Tom'svoiceissharp.
"Talkedtohim.Somethingpeopledoinsteadoftryingtoruneachother'slives.Youshouldtryit

sometime," Miles says. "The man is going batshit over that girl. He needs to get the break up over
withandgettoworkongettingoverherthefunway."

"That'shisbrother."MegswatsMilesplayfully."Isthatwhatyou'lldoifIdumpyou?"
"Why? You have plans to dump me?" He repositions her, so she's straddling to him. "Better

convinceyoutoreconsider."

"Miles..."
"Mhmm."He'sbackatherneck,suckingonherskinwithgreatconcentration.
Iclearmythroat.Itdoesnothing.Okay.They'rewaytoointoeachothertocare.
Hepullsdownhisshirtandpointstoatattooonhischest.
Shesighswithpleasureanddragsherhandsoverhisexposedskin.It'shardtotellfromthisangle,

butit'sentirelyplausiblethathishandisunderherskirt.

Tomrollshiseyes."Yes,you'reinloveandyoucan'tkeepyourhandsoffeachother.We'vegot

thepoint."

Mileslaughs."God,Ican'timaginetheblueballs.Howlonghasitbeen,Tom?"
"Threeweeks."
Mileslooksathisgirlfriend."Hecan'tevenmasturbateforthreemoreweeks."
"Thefreepornshowsyoutwoputonreallyhelp,"Tomsays.
"Aw,poorTomlikeswatchingusmakeouttoomuch."Shefeignspity.
"Yeah,youstopatmakingout..."
Sheblushes."Ithoughtyouwereasleep."
"Thenwhywereyouscreaming?"Tomasks.
Meg blushes. "Sorry. I was trying to keep it down." She pushes herself off her boyfriend and

makeseyecontactwithme."Comeon.Ifwewaituntilthey'redonewiththepissingcontesttoeatwe'll
dieofstarvation."

***

I must be the band pet. Everyone takes their turn sitting with me, making conversation about work,
school,ormusic.Drewstaresintentlyatmynewhairstylebuthekeepsanycommentarytohimself.

"Tomgiveyouahardtimeoranything?"heasks.
Technically,yes.Butthat'snotthequestion."No,he'sbeengreat.HetalkedtoHazelabouthiring

measherassistant."

Drewbeams."You'regonnastay?"

Inod."Yeah."
Drew's still posture softens. "I'm glad you're here, Wil. If you need anything, let me know.

Anything."

Okay.He'scalmenoughIcantease."WhatifIneedcondoms?"
Drewthrowsmeacomeonlook.Hemustbeinagoodmood.It'susuallyprettyeasytogetarise

outofhim.

"Ihopethatjokemeansyoutrustme,"hesays.
"Enough."
"Good.I'vemissedyou.I'mnotgonnafuckthisup."HenodsgoodnightthenjoinsKarainoneof

thebunkbeds.

Thosethingsaretiny.Thetwoofthembarelyfit.
IfinishBringingupBabybymyself.WhenIlookupandturnmycomputeroff,MegandMiles

areontheirwaytobed.Theyshareabunkforawhilebuteventuallyretiretoseparatespaces.

Thegigglesandmumblesoflatenightconversationturntothesoftbreathingofsleep.Thebusis

quiet.Tomisonthecouch,watchingamoviewithheadphones.Iguesstheband'sbassist,Pete,isstill
intheprivateroom,sleepingorbroodingorsurreptitiouslyengaginginsexualactivities.

That leaves me and Tom as good as alone. I try to stay busy color correcting portraits of my

friendCassandra.They'rethekindofthingHazelshootsbutnotnearlyasgood.Ionlymanagetostay
busyforhalfanhourbeforethecouchbeckonsme.

Iturnoffmycomputer,putitwithmythings,andjoinTom.
He's close. Really close. His shoulder presses against mine. The outside of his knee presses

againstmine.Icanfeelallthewarmthofhisbody.Icanhearhisinhaleandexhale.

"Here."Hepullsanearbudfromoneearandhandsittome.
It'sbeenagessinceI'vesharedheadphoneswithsomeone.It'ssweet.Intimate.
Thesoundsofthefilmfillsmyear.Softrustlingofthewind.Avoiceinaforeignlanguage.The

imagesonscreenarebleakbluescenery.Snowandtheemptysky.

Thecabletugs.It'snotmeantfortwopeople.
"ThisisLetTheRightOneIn.Haveyouseenit?"Hescootscloser,togivetheheadphonesslack.
"No.Whathappenedsofar?"
"I'llrestartit."Hereachesoverme.Hishandbrushesmystomachonitswaytotheremote.
"Youdon'thavetodothat."It'sawaste,really.Iwon'tbeabletopayattentionwithTominsuch

closeproximity.

"It'snobigdeal."Herestartsthefilmandsettlesintoaspotonthecouchnexttome.
Hemovescloser,closer,untilI'mpracticallyinhislap.
Itrytofocusonthestarkimagesoftheopeningcredits.Themovieisbeautifullyshot.
Hepatshischest."Youcanlaydown.Youmustbetired."
"I'mnottired.Someonekeptgivingmecaffeine."
"Blamingmeforyourlackofself-control?Sotacky.I'mdisappointedinyou,Willow."
The screen flashes with a snow covered school. It looks cold. It looks cold but Tom's body is

warm.

Iclearmythroat."Whereisyourcar?"
"Roadiestaketurnsdrivingit.Givesthemsometimealone.Youdon'tgetmanychancestohear

yourselfthinkontour."

"Don'tyougetsickofthat?"
"I'dputupwithalotworseforthechancetogetonstageeveryothernight."
"Plusallthemoney."
"Yeah."Helaughs."There'sthat."

"Andthewomen."
"Don'tneedtobearockstartogetwomen."
"Doesn'tseemtohurtyou."
"It'stooeasynow.Imissthechallenge."HeturnsmesoI'mfacingtheTV."You'regonnamissthe

goodpart."

Itrytokeepmyeyesonthescreen,butIfail.This—watchingthelightflickeronTom'sface—is

thegoodpart.

***

"Whatareyou..."Myeyesblinkopen.Mysurroundingscomeintofocusslowly.Where'smybed?My
RomanHolidayposter?

There'sanarmundermyass.
"Nowyouwakeup."
Tom.I'minhisarms,pressedagainsthischest.He'scarryingmesomewhere.Tomybed.Onlyit's

notmybed,it'sabunkonatourbus,becauseinthelasttwodaysmylifehasturnedupsidedown.

"Youcouldhaveleftmeonthecouch."Islingmyarmaroundhisneckforsupport.
"Icouldhavedonealotofthings."Heleans,settingmeonabottombunk."Thiswillbeyoursfor

awhile.Youcantakemynextturnwiththeprivatebedroom."

"Thanks,Tom."Islideontothemattress.I'mtangledinablanketbutIfeelcold.
"Takeoffyourpants."
"What?"Imustbehearingthings.
"Yourjeans.Shouldn'tsleepinthem."
IlookbacktoTom,buthe'sgone.Ishiftunderthecoverstostriptomytanktopandpanties.
Thebunkhasasmallprivacycurtain,likethebunkonatrain.Igotopullmineclosed,butTomis

back.

Hesetsapairofboxersandat-shirtonmybunk.They'rehis.
Hekneelsnexttome."There'sanextratoothbrushinthebathroom."
Inod."Thanks."
"Sweetdreams,kid."
"Yeah,youtoo."
Underthecovers,Ichangeintothetemporarypajamas.Theysmelllikehim.Itshouldbotherme,

smellinglikeastrangemanIbarelyknow,butit'sutterlyintoxicating.

Iclimboutofbed,brushmyteethandwashmyface.He'sbackonthecouch,strippeddowntohis

boxers,watchingsomething.

Helookslonelyallbyhimself.
MaybeI'mprojecting.Manic,bossy,knowitallTomcannailanysinglewomaninatwentymile

radius.Herevelsinhismanwhorestatus,makesapointofavoidingrelationships.

Buthe'shuman.Hemustgetlonely.
Hiseyesmeetmine.Hemotionstomybunkgotosleep.
Inodofcourse,climbintomybunk,andpullthecurtainclosed.
Butsleepisn'thappening.Mymindisracing.Andmybody—it'swaytookeyeduptosleep.
Whatwasithesaid?Therearegonnabealotofvibratorsrunningoutofbatterytonight.That'sthe

onlywayI'mgoingtorelaxenoughfordecentsleep.

Ican'tmasturbateonthebus.Maybeintheprivateroom.Butnothere.
Ipressmylidstogetherandtakedeepbreaths.Theydon'thelp.I'mflushed,needy.
ButI'mnotboldenoughtodoanythingtoeasethesituation.

CHAPTERTEN

Lighthitsmyface.It'sbrightenoughthatit'swellpastmorning.Irolloutofbed,expectingmyfeetto
hitthehardwoodfloorsofmybedroom.Butthat'snothappening.I'mnevergoingbackthere.

It'squietonthebus.Imustbealone.Ibrushmyteeth,getdressed,findmyphone.
I've got half a dozen texts from Drew—updates on where he is, the hotel's address, that kind of

thing.ThenafewfromTom.

Tom:Yourfantasyiswaitingforyou.
There'sapicturemessageattached.Anicedcoffee.
Tom:Betyouwereexpectingsomethingelse.
Tom:Yougottacleanupthatdirtymind,kid.
Tom:GetheresoonorI'llhavetofindsomeotherwaytooccupymytime.
There'sanaddress.Acoffeeshop.Igetdressedandgetoffthebus.Xander,thesecurityguy,isthe

onlypersonaround.

He nods hello. "Good afternoon, Ms. Denton. Your brother went to someplace called Voodoo

Donuts.It'safewblocksaway."

"Thanks,butI'mnotlookingforDrew."
Hesmiles."Tomisatacoffeeshoparoundthecorner.Youneedhelpfindingit?"
Mycheeksflush."Yes,please."
Xandergivesmedirectionsandmimeszippinghislipsinanoursecretmotion.Ithankhimand

makemywaythroughdowntownPortland.

The coffee shop is hipsterville. It's white and clean with uncomfortable looking silver chairs.

Industrialmetalblaresthroughthespeakers.It'sonvinyl,ofcourse.

A barista stares at me with judgment in his eyes. That you know nothing about coffee, you fool

thing.Ah,thesameasSanFranciscoproper.That'sonethingIwon'tmissabouthome.

Tomissittinginthebackcorner,gazegluedtohisphone.
Whatthehelldoeshedoonthatthingallday?
Iignorethetoo-cool-for-schoolemployeesandmakemywaytoTom.Hegreetsmewithanod.
"Hey,sleepingbeauty."Hepointstoanemptyglass."Drankyourcoffee."
"Whathappenedtomyfantasy?"
Helooksupatmewithmockoutrage."AreyoutryingtotellmethatI'mnotyourfantasy?"
Inod.
"Ah,Isee.Toomanyclothesforyourfantasy."Hepullshiszippertomid-stomach."Thisbetter?"
"It'sastart."
Tomlaughs."It'sallyou'regetting.Doyouhaveanycashleftoverfromshopping?"
"It'sinmysuitcaseonthebus."
He fishes his wallet from his skinny jeans and pulls out a ten. "Treat yourself to a pastry." He

winks.

Tomrunshishandthroughmyhair,mussingit.Andthereitis.Coffeeisnolongernecessary.I'm

awake.Wideawake.

Somethingaboutittickles.Ilaugh."Stopit."
"Looksbetternow."
IreachforhishairandmesswhatIcangrab."Thatlooksbetter."
"Oh,you'reafterawar,huh?"Hereachesformyhair.
Iduckandreachbackforhim.He'satleastfiveorsixinchestallerthanIam,andhe'sfast.Ijump

at him, reaching high, laughing as my fingers dig through his bangs. He reaches back effortlessly

slidinghishandthroughmyhairandflippingitineverydirection.

"Thattickles,"Igasp.Thenlaugh.
Hedoesn'tstop.SoIdon'tstop.Okay.Heregoesnothing.Irisetomytiptoesandjump.
Shit.Ithrowmyarmsinfrontofmetocatchmyfall.ButIdon'thittheground.Tomcatchesme,

holdingmeagainsthischest.

Hisarmsslidearoundmywaist,holdingmeup,holdingmeagainsthim.
God,hesmellsgood.
The room is dead quiet. Everyone is staring at us. We're making a commotion in the cool,

peacefulcoffeeshop.Howuncouth.IpressmyfaceintoTom'schestinanattempttohide.

Onlymybodydoesn'tgetthehidingmessage.Mybodygetsanentirelydifferentmessage.Hard

musclesundersoftcotton.Hishandpressesintothesmallofmyback.Hismouthhoversovermyear.

"You're knocking this whole 'land on a gossip blog' thing outta the park." His voice is light,

joking.

"DowhatIcan."
Heshifts,slidinghishandintomybackpocketinawe'reacouplegesture.Henodstosomeone.A

knowing,yeahIamthatguykindofnod.

Imotiontotheexit.
Tomstaysput."Youneedyourcoffee,kid."
"I'llgetonesomewhereelse."
"Promiseisapromise."Hereleaseshisgriparoundmywaistandmovesintotheline.
It's even more awkward feeling the stares without him to deflect the attention. That's one good

thingaboutagorgeousrockstarfriend.Everyonelooksathim.

IslidenexttoTom,hangingascloseasIcan.Todeflecttheattention.Notbecausethewarmthof

hisbodyistotallyintoxicating.

He orders two more iced coffees, his black, mine with almond milk. I sweeten my drink with

simplesyrupandmovetothegreystreet.It'sdrizzlingbutIpreferalittlemisttoalotofstares.

Tom is a few paces behind. He takes in my expression with an amused smile. "Not big on

attention,areyou?"

"Notreally.I'dratherbebehindthecamerathaninfrontofit."
Hisvoicedropstoawhisper."Let'sgosomewherequiet.Justyouandme."

***

Wepickuplunchatasandwichshop,findTom'scararoundthecorner,anddrivethroughclean,tree-
lineddowntownPortland.Tomnavigatestheone-waystreetsexpertly.Wecrossafreeway,andallof
asuddenwe'redonewithbigbuildingsandwidestreets.We'reinaneighborhoodonthehill.Rowsof
perfectly imperfect houses pass by. I snap half a dozen photos, but they come out blurry. We're
movingtoofast.

It's beautiful here. Even better as we make our way into Washington Park. It's a massive thing,

twice the size of Golden Gate Park, and surrounded in tall pine trees. Everywhere I look is a deep
shadeofgreen.

We park at the rose garden. Tom slides his arm around my waist. Totally inappropriate for

platonicfriends,butpointingthatoutwillonlyleadtohimnottouchingme.

Ifollowhisleadaswemakeourwaydownasetofconcretesteps.It'sstillrainingbutit'slight,

moreofamist,andthesunispeekingoutfrombehindthegreyclouds.

Wow. It's beautiful here. There must be a hundred different kinds of roses. The air is crisp and

clean.Itevensmellsofflowers.

IshiftawayfromTom'sgraspsomyeyescanleadme.There'saperfectredrose.Deepcrimson

andflushwithpetals.Awhiterose,aspureassnow.They'reallbeautifulandalive.

Tompresseshispurpleconversecladfootagainstthegrass,testingformud."Nofreshaironthe

damnbus."

"You must be used to that, living in Los Angeles." I follow Tom along a stone-lined path. "You

seemlikeyou'dfitinthere."

"Fuckyouverymuch,too."
That'saninsult?"Ididn'tmean—"
"It'sokay.Idoseemlikethat.I'mvain,Igotoclubs,Isleepwithmodelsandactresses.I'myour

typicalLosAngelesB-listcelebritydouchebag."Hepresseshispalmsagainstaconcreterailing."It's
whateverybodythinksofme."

I'msureit'snotthemostopportunetime,butIhavetocapturehisexpression.Ipulloutmycamera

andtakeafewphotosofTom.

Helooksaway,attheground.
Thepicturesarebeautiful.Thesoftlighting,thetranquilscene,thehintofpaininhiseyes—but

theydon'ttellmewhyhe'supset.

Iputthecameradownandmovecloser.
The concrete is cold against my skin. I stare out at the next level of the garden. It's flush with

roses,butit'sthedeepgreenpetalsandthornsthatdominatethepicture.

"What'sinaccurateaboutthatimage?"Iask.
"Nothing."Helooksupatthesky."I'mshallow.Don'tknowwhentomindmyownbusiness.Only

careaboutmoney.Onlyinitforthepussy."

"I'veseenyouturndownthreeorfourwomen."
"OnlycauseIcan'tcome."
"Idon'tbelieveyou."
Heshrugs."Guesswe'llseein—"
"Nineteendays?"
"Don'tcount.Itwillgivemeideas."
"Oh."
"Fuckthisseriousshit."Hisfingerscurlaroundtherailing."There'snothingIcandonow."
"Areyouokay?"
"Willbe."
Imovealittlecloser."Whathappened?"
"Nothing."He'squietforawhile,hisgazeontheflowersbelowus.
Ibreakthesilence."You'renotatypicalB-listcelebritydouche-bag."
Hesaysnothing.
"MorelikeC-list."
Thatelicitsasmile."Wouldyouprefersomeonemorefamous?"
"No." I move closer. Until we're touching. My heartbeat picks up. A flutter builds below my

stomach.Moveslower.Lower."AndIdon'tthinkthatthefamematterstoyou,whateveryouwantto
claim."

"Ofcourseitdoes.I'manattentionwhore."
"Ifyouinsist."
Heturns,leansagainsttheconcretebanister.Hisposturescreamsleavemealone but there's this

sadnessinhiseyes.Ican'tgoanywhere.Itfeelswrong.

Istareattheflowersfromafar.They'rebeautifulbutinfinitelylessinterestingthanTomis.
Ilineupanotherpicture.Thecompositionisperfect.It'smoody,raw,authentic.

Yet, I don't want to click. I don't want to be behind the camera. I want to be here, with him.

Whateverthatmeans.

IsetmycameraonthesoftgroundandturnbacktoTom.Afterafewmoreminutesofstaringout

atthesky,hespeaks.

"Mymom,adoptedmom,Ophelia.Shelovesroses."
"Yeah?"
"FirstdayIgottoherplace,shehadthisbigbouquetofrosesonherdiningtable.Butnoring.No

sign of a boyfriend. Nothing. I lived to piss people off, so I looked at her and asked 'who the fuck
boughtyoutheroses,lady?'PrettysureIaddedafewthingsaboutherbeingugly."

Imovecloser.UntilIcanfeelalltheheatfromhisbody.
"Shelookedmeintheeyes,andshetoldmesheboughtthemforherself.Ofcourse,beingalittle

asshole,Istaredbackatherandcalledheraloser."

"Youdidn't."
"Idid."Hisgazeshiftstome."Shedidn'tblink.Shestaredatmewithallthisloveandpatience,and

shesaid,‘youcan'twaitforpeopletogiveyouthingsyouwant.Youhavetoaskforthem.’"

"Smart."
"Tookmeawhiletofigureoutwhatshemeant."Hekicksthegrass,muddyinghisshoe.
"Didsomethinghappentoher?"
Tomdoesn'tanswer.Hepusheshimselfawayfromtherailingandmakeshiswaydownthenext

setofconcretesteps.

He stops in front of a peach rose bush and stares intently at the flowers. "She always had roses.

Everyweekortwo,shegotanewbouquet."

"That'sreallysweet."
Heholdsupourtakeoutbagandpointstoanamphitheatertoourleft."Food'sgettingcold."
He shakes his head, shaking off his bad mood. I follow him to the empty stage and sit cross-

leggedonthestill-dampgrass.Thebuttofmyjeansisgoingtobewet.Atthemoment,it'shardto
care.

Tom plops next to me. He eats quickly, then lies on his back and stares up at the sky. It's not

raininganymore.It'smostlyblueandbrightandbeautiful.

Butnoneofthatreallymatterstome.TheonlythingIcanseeisthepaininTom'sgorgeousgreen

eyes.

Ihavetogethimoutofhismood.Ilineupapictureofhimlyingonthegrass.
Helooksupatme,raisesabrow."Youhavetodothatnow?"
"Youcanhavetheseforfree.Somethingsoulfulandpensivetogetallyourfansthinkingyou're

sensitive."

"Don'tneedthemthinkingI'msensitive."Helooksbackatthesky.
Okay.Heregoesnothing.Imovecloser.UntilI'mkneelingnexttohim.Buttheangleisn'tquite

right.Islingmykneeoverhislegs,straddlinghim.

"Whatthehell,kid?"Heswatsthecameraaway.
Isnapanotherpicture.Hestilllookssad.
Tompushesthecameraaside.Hebringshishandstomyshoulders,pushingmyarmstowardsthe

ground.Iletthecamerafallintothesoftgrass.

He pulls my body onto his, but not to hold me. He wrestles me onto my back, keeps me pinned

withhiskneesplantedoutsidemythighs,hishandsplantedoutsidemyshoulders.

We're lined up perfectly for some tighter version of missionary position. If only we weren't

wearingalltheseclothes.Andinapublicplace.

Isinkintothedampgrass.Hisbodyishard,warm.Heavyinthisdeliciousway.

"Not now." He shifts off me and plops back on his back. "If you pick up that camera again, I'm

breakingit."

"Youwouldn'tdothat."
"I'llbuyyouabetterone.GuessI'mencouragingyoutokeepshootingpicsbyadmittingthat."
"Notifit'supsettingyou."Istareatthesky.Therearebig,whiteclouds.Oneisrabbit-shaped."If

youeverwanttotalkoranything.Idon'tknowalotaboutrelationships,don'thavealotoffriends,
butIcanalwayslisten."

"It'snothing."
"That'snottrue."
Hisvoicedrops."Neitherwaswhatyousaidyesterday."
Iswallowhard.
"Ididn'tcallyouonthatbullshitaboutyourex.Ifyoucan'ttellmethetruth,whyshouldItellyou

shit?"

He'sright.It'snotpersonal.Idon'ttellanyoneanything.
Butthatispersonal,isn'tit?IputTominthatsameIcan'ttrustyoucategoryaseveryoneelse.
It's exhausting, never trusting anyone. I wiggle my fingers reaching for Tom's hand. But I can't

findit.

He lets out a heavy sigh but says nothing. For minutes. When I can't take the silence or the wet

grassonmybackanylonger,Igetupandfinishmygrilledvegetablesandwich.Iscrunchthewrapper
intoatinyballandtossitintoourtakeoutbag.

Thereareadozenotherpeopleinthegarden,butthere'snoonewithintwentyfeetofus.
AposteronstageannouncesaShakespeareintheParkshowingofAMidsummerNight'sDreamin

threeweeks.

WhatwasitTomdidyesterday,whenIwasobviouslyabouttoloseit?Hechangedthesubjectand

filledmewithcaffeine.Ihaven'tgotanycoffee,soI'llhavetostickwiththeformer.

Ipointattheposter."YoureadanyShakespeareinschool?"
"Didn'treallydomyassignments."
"Oh."
Heshiftssowe'reeyetoeye,aknowinglookonhisface."Youtoldmeasecretyesterday.Partof

one.I'lltellyouasecretinexchange,butyouhavetopromisenottotellasoul."

Imakethemylipsaresealedgesture.
"IwouldhavefailedoutofschoolifIhadn'tneededtomaintainmyGPA."
"Wereyouonthewaterpoloteamorsomething?"
"Youenjoythinkingaboutmewet,huh?"Hesmiles,ahintofsadnessfallingoffhisface.
"Drippingwetpreferably,"Isay.
Heshiftsbackintohisgoodmood.Mostly.Heleanscloser,raisinganeyebrowsuggestively.
Iteaseback."Iwasontheswimteamallthroughhighschoolandcollege."
"Ifyoutalkabouthowwetyouwere,I'llgetideas."
Iclearmythroat."Youpromisedmeasecret."
"Iwasinthemarchingband."
"Youwerenot."
Henods."Ondrumline."
IstareatTomwithdisbelief.Henods,stillthepictureofconfidence.
"Butyou'resocoolnow,"Isay.
"Drumlineisthecoolestpartofband.WhodoyouthinknailedallthegirlsinColorGuard?"
"You?"
Henods."Andhalfthecheerleaders."

"Charming."
He's quiet for a moment. His eyes find mine. He stares at me, picking me apart. Or maybe he's

pickinghimselfapart.Ican'tplacehisexpression.

Acloudpassesoverus,turningthebrightlighttoasoftglow.
Tommovesincloser,andbringshismouthtomyear."Thanks,"hewhispers.
Andthenhegetsup,movesaway,andallthepaininhiseyesisgone.He'sthesamebouncyguy,

nocracks,nosignsanythinghaseverhurthim.

CHAPTERELEVEN

Wearriveatthesoundcheckjustintime.Hazelishere.

ShelooksjustlikethepictureonherWikipediapage.Roundglassesstraightoutofthe70s,loose

men'sclothes,shortgreyhair.She'sshorterthanalltheguysinthebandbyatleastsixinches,butshe
commandstheirattention.

Talkingceasesasshemakesherwayintotheroom.
"If you don't get back to making trouble, I won't have anything to photograph." She smiles,

friendlybutnononsense,andlooksmedeadintheeyes."YoumustbeWillow.Whatwasit,Willow
Wayne?"

Inod.
"Let'sstickwithWillow.I'mHazelAlexander."Sheoffersherhandtoshake.
Itakeit."ButstickwithHazel?"
Shenods,releasingmyhand.Shelooksbacktotheband.They'remostlyshootingtheshit,waiting

aroundasroadiessetupinstruments.TomandDrewtaketurnsglancinginourdirection.

Herattentionturnstome.Thefocusinhereyesisoverwhelming.
"Let'sseewhatyou'vegot,"shesays.
Here goes nothing. I pull out my cell and show off my edited portraits. Hazel stares at them

intently.Shelooksuptome,backtotheportrait,swipestothenextpicture,backtome,backtothe
portrait.

"These are very nice, sweetheart, but that's all they are. You can make a lot of money shooting

niceheadshotsforactors.Youcantravelaroundthecountrytakingsimplecorporateheadshotsand
makeaniceliving.There'snoshameinaniceliving."Shehandsbackmycellphone."Butyou'retoo
youngtogiveuponworkthatinterestsyou."

I nod, soaking in her advice the best I can. The pictures are nice. Only nice. Why would Hazel

Alexanderwantnice?She'saphotographygoddess.

"Don'tworry,sweetheart.IwashighuntilIwastwenty-five.You'reaheadofthecurve.ButI'llbe

honest.Idon'tdonice.Idon'tdocomfortable.I'mmorethanhappytopayyoutofetchmycoffeeand
changemylenses,butI'mnotgoingtogiveyoufeedbackonanymorenicepictures."

Iworkedhardonthesepictures,spentforevereditingthem.
Nice.
It'sanuglyword.Asgoodasboringorbland.
"They'regoodpictures,butthey'reempty.Theydon'tsayanythingaboutthisgirl.Theydon'tsay

anythingaboutyou."Hergazeshiftstotheband."Youhaveacamera,sweetheart?"

Inodfrantically,pullmycamerafrommybag,andhandittoHazel.
She looks it over gently. "This will be fine for now." She points to the power button. "Mind if I

playaroundwithit?"

"Of course not." I nearly bite my tongue getting the words out. This is a million times more

nerve-wrackingthanTomlookingatmyphotos.Herfeedbackhasthepowertotearmeinhalf.

She turns on the camera and looks intently at the screen. "I'll have you do some coverage once

you get settled. First few shows, stick with me, get a feel for it. Live concerts get old, but the label
mademeanofferIcouldn'trefuse."

"Isitbetterthannice?"
"Betterenough."Shesmiles."Editorialworkfillsmysoul,butmysouldoesn'tsignthealimony

checksIsendtomyex-husband.I'llneedyourhelponanyeditorialassignmentsIcansqueezeintothe

tour schedule." She looks back to the camera, holding up her hand as if to say shush. "Now this is
something."Shetapsthescreen."Thissayssomething."

Hazelmotionscomehere.Ido.She'slookingataphotographofTom,oneItookearliertoday.
"Willow,sweetheart,whywereyouholdingoutonme?Thisisadamnfineportrait."Sheshuffles

throughadozenphotosofTom,stopsonanother."Doesheinterestyou?"

Istarebackather.Shecan'tbeaskingifheinterestsme.Iclearmythroat."Heaskedmetohelp

himoutwithhisbadboyrockstarimage."

"Yes,hewould."ShelooksoveratTom,makeseyecontact."He'sahandful."
"Yes."
"Charming."
"Ishe?"
"Funny."
"Ihadn'tnoticed."
"Yes, you had." She shuffles through the pictures until she finds one from the restaurant where

Tomismidjokeandfulloflife."Theevidencespeaksforitself."

Shescansfurtherback.Oh,God.AllthewaytothepicturesItookinhishotelroom.
"My." Hazel looks up at me. "Willow, sweetheart. You lied just a minute ago." She points to a

pictureofTomleaningbackonthebed,hisbodylongandlean."It'sclearheinterestsyou."

"Hewashelpingmeoutwithajobapplication.Foraboudoirstudio."
"Hmmm."Hazelpoursoverthepictures."Youhaveaknackforit,sweetheart.Theseareexcellent.

Granted, you have a perfect practice model here. Most of boudoir is helping your client get
comfortable.Isthatsomethingyouwanttodo?"

"Maybe.Itwasnerve-wrackingbut—"
HazelholdsupaparticularlysexyimageofTomslidinghishanddownhistorso."Yes,Iimagine

Tomdidn'tmakeiteasy."

It's like Tom can tell we're talking about him. He nods to Hazel. When she turns back to me

withoutresponding,hemakeshiswaytowardsus.

Hazellooksatmeandraisesaneyebrowinawatchthisgesture."Ofcourse,onceyou'remetone

famousperson,you'vemetthemall.Thesizeoftheegoonsomeofthem—worstpartofthejob."She
turnstofaceTom."Thomas,sweetheart.Wewerejusttalkingaboutyou."

Heslideshisarmaroundhershoulder."Yes,Iknow.OnceyoumeetTomSteele,everyonepales

incomparison.I'veheardthatfromalotofdifferentwomen.Ohwait,that'sonceyou'vefuckedTom
Steeleeveryoneelsepalesincomparison."Hewinksatme.

"Thomas, don't sexually harass my assistant. It's bad enough you have her running around

photographing you." She removes his arm from her shoulder. "Can't you take your own Instagram
photoslikeanormalcelebrity?"

"WhysettlefornormalwhenIcouldhavethebest?"Tomasks.
Hazellooksbacktome."You'reluckyyou'retalentedoryouregowouldbeunbearable."
"Hazel,youwoundme.PromiseI'myourfavorite."
"IpreferPete."
"Ouch. Not even her favorite band member. Not even her favorite Steele brother." Tom smiles,

revelingintheirsparring."WhatdoesPetehavethatIdon't?"

"Anauraofmystery."
"Whatgoodismystery?"
"Hehasathightattoo"
"Thightattoo?Thatdoesn'tsoundverymysterious,Ms.Alexander.Haveyoubeensneakinginto

Pete'sroomtowatchhimshower?"

"I'msorrydarling,butIloveamanwithasteadyhandandaquietdisposition,"shesays.
"Shethinksyou'retooloud,"Iexplain.
"Pete has a rhythm. Thomas, you forget how many times I've seen you pound on those poor

drumsofyours.Awomanmyagedoesn'tlikeitthatfastandrough."

"Hazel,baby,youknowI'llgoanyspeedyouwant,"Tomsays.
"Sorry.MyheartissetonPete."
"Damn,thisisthefirsttimeIeverlostawomantoPete."Tomshiftshisweight."Youknowhehas

agirl,right?"

"Yes, and you've told me twenty times that he won't have a girl for long. You don't make it this

long in my line of work without patience." Hazel smiles. "You'll always be my favorite Sinful
Serenadedrummer."

Tommimesbeingstabbedinthegut.
Hazelchuckles."Getbacktowork,sweetheart."
"Don'ttellmeyoualsoaskPetetomodelforyournudes,"hesays.
"Hashefinallyagreed?"Hazelteases.
"I'llputinagoodwordforyou."Hewinksonhiswaybacktotheband.
OnceTomisoutofearshot,Hazelturnstome."He'sveryhandsome."
There'snosenseindenyingthatpoint.Inod.
"Butyoucan'tsleepwiththetalent.Thatkindofthingisn'tdoneanymore."
"I'mnot."
"You'rethinkingaboutit."
Imustbeblushing,becauseshenods,affirminghersuspicions.
"Lookallyouwant,"shesays."Butkeepitinyourpants."

***

Therearealmostfourhoursbetweenthesoundcheckandtheopeningband.Ispendeveryminuteof
themlearningfromHazel.Shetakesmethroughhundredsofconcerttourphotographs.Thepictures
shetakesaregreat.Fulloflifeandenergyandpassion.They'recrisp,infocus,notatallstaged.

Igetlostinherdirections.Oncewegetgoing,she'lltakeonesideofthestage.Dependingonthe

night,I'lltakethepressbox,thevenue'sareaforphotographers,ortheothersideofthestage.Today,
I'mgoingtoactashershadow.AllIhavetodoisfollowcommands.

Wemakeourwaytothepressareainthemiddleoftheopeningband'sset.Ourviewisalittletoo

angled,butotherwiseit'sperfect.Inoticenothingabouttheband.Iwatchherwork.Thewayshewaits
fortheperfectmomentthenlinesupashotintheblinkofaneye.Everyfewminutes,sheasksfora
differentlens.Adeflector.Acoffee.Awater.Something.

I'msolostinherinstructions,thatIbarelynoticeSinfulSerenadecomeon.
Shechucklesandpointstothestage."Yourmuse."
Tomisstandingbehindhisdrumkit,teasingtheaudiencebypullinghisshirtuphisstomach.One

inch.Thentwo.Three.Four.Thenit'soverhischest,hishead.Aheapontheground.

Womenscream.Atleastfivehundred.Maybeathousand.
Hazelmotionstomycamera."Takeafewofhim."
IwatchTomthroughmycameraastheguysstartthesong.Inaninstant,he'slostinthemusic.His

arms and wrists are strong and precise as bangs his sticks against the drums, the cymbals. His foot
taps out a beat on the bass drum. He moves so fast he's a blur on my screen. Sweat drips down his
neckandtorso.Hishairstickstohisskin.

God,he'sfuckingsexy.

Asasubject.
I'monlydoingmyjobhere.

***

Afterathirtyminutepost-gamewithHazel,Iflashmybackstagepasstothesecurityguardandgoin
searchoftheband.MytextmessagesannouncethatDrewandMilesarealreadyontheirwaytothe
airporttosendofftheirgirlfriends.

Leaving me as the lone woman in a group of depraved men. If Mom knew, she'd be livid. I'm

temptedtocallherjusttorubitin.

Ibumpintosomeone.Oneoftheguysfromtheopeningband.Iforgethisname.He'sridiculously

tallandbroad.Helooksdownatmewithinterest.

"Hey.Youbusytonight..."Hestaresatmelikehe'stryingtoremembermyname.
He's attractive. Okay, body, let's do this. Look at the attractive man and want him. He's tall. He's

broad.He'sbuff.Hehasafullsleevetattoo,colorfulkoifish.

He'shot.
Mybodyrefusestocooperate.Nothing.IcopyTom'splayermoveandbrushmyfingersagainst

hiswrist.Stronghands.Butnothing.

Absolutelynothing.
"It'sWillow.I'mDrew'ssister."
"Oh.Right."Hestepsback,nodoubtawareofDrew'sreputationforbeatingpeopleup."Seeyou

later."

It's a good thing my body doesn't care about him or I'd be offended. No matter. I step into the

dressingroom.It'sthesizeofahotelroom,andit'spacked.

Tomissittingonacouch,twoeagerwomenoneachsideofhim.Hetellsastorywithananimated

expression.His gestures arebig and loud.But he's not reallyengaging with thewomen. He's in his
ownworld,thesamewayhewaswhenhewasplaying.

Thewomen take turnstrying to touchhim. Mostly, they keepit above thewaist, grabbing at his

shoulder or reaching for his hair. He doesn't react to their affection. Not really. He just shifts to
anothergirlandcontinueshisperformance.

He'sstillonstage,really.
"Hey.Willow,right?"Adeep,patientvoiceasks.
It's not Drew or Miles. Must be Pete. I spin. Sure enough, it's the fit, dark haired bassist. I know

HazelwasteasingTom,butthereissomethingappealingabouthisreserveddisposition.There'sthis
hintofpaininhiseyes,likethere'sanoceanofdepthunderneathhiscalmsurface.

"Yeah,Drew'slittlesister."Ishakehishand.
"You should introduce yourself as Hazel's assistant. Unless you're trying to scare off guys who

aren'tmybrother."HenodsatTom.

He'sreallyTom'sbrother?TomwaseffortlesswiththatinformationwithHazelbuttheguysdon't

lookalikebeyondbothofthembeingfitandhandsome.

"We'refosterbrothers.Notbloodrelatives."Helooksmeintheeyes."Incaseyouweretryingto

figureoutwhyI'msomuchsexierthanheis."

"Thatclearsthingsup."
IgivePeteaonceover,willingmybodytoreacttohisthewayitreactstoTom's.He'sdressedin

allblack,fromthethickeyelinertothedarkconverse.Hisclothesaretight.

He'ssexy.
He'sintense.

But...nothing.
IlookbacktoTom,surroundedbyhisgaggleoffangirls.Angerbuildsinmystomach.Hejust

letsthemtouchhim,flirtwithhim.Probably,he'lltakeoneofthemhome,throwheronthebed,rip
offtheridiculouslyshortskirtshe'swearing—

"He'sawfullytacky,isn'the?"PetenodstoTom.
"Isn'tthatthepointofbeingarockstar?"
"Itgetsoldprettyfast."
"Apparentlynot."Let'sdiscussanythingbesidesTom'sflirting."You'rereallygoodonthebass."
Hislipscurlintotheworld'stiniestsmile."Thatthebestyoucando?Comeon.Atleastaskmy

favoritemovieorsomething."

"What'syourfavoritemovie?"
"Imostlywatchdocs.YoueverseeDevil'sPlayground?"
Ishakemyhead.
"Nevermind.Domeafavor."
"Okay."
"Followmylead."
PetemakeseyecontactwithTomandnodsgoodbye.Thenheslideshisarmaroundmywaistand

pullsmeclose.

Heleadsmetowardsthedoor.
"Whatareyoudoing?"Iask.
"You've got this look in your eyes, the same one your brother had whenever any guy talked to

Kara.Likeyou'rejealousenoughtohitsomeone."

"I'mnotjealous."
Heoffershishand."Ifyouinsist.ButfiftybuckssaysthisgetsTomtocomerunning."
"Oh."
"Unlessyou'dratherwatchhimflirt."
"Okay.You'reright.Let's...wherearewegoing?"
"Doesn'tmatter."
He leads me through the now crowded backstage area. Mostly, it's the opening band and their

entourage.AlmosteveryonestopsPetetosayhellooraskforanautograph.Ittakesfiveminutesto
gotenfeet.

I'mabouttoslipthroughthecrowdwhenanarmslidesaroundmywaist.Itfeelsright,thatarm.

It'sexactlywhereitbelongs.

"Hey,kid.Wheredoyouthinkyou'regoing?"Tomasks.
Damn.Thatworkedfast.SoPeteisn'tjusthandsome.He'ssmarttoo.
Unfortunately,mybodyinsistsonTom.He'sallthatwilldo.God,doeshefeelgoodwithhischest

againstmyback,allthatwarmthofhistorsosinkingintomyskin.

"It'salmostmidnight,"Isay."I'mgoingtosleep."
"Don'tthinkso.I'vegotanimagetomaintain."
Tompullsmetoasidedoor.Hemotionsforhisbrothertofollow.
We step outside. There's a perimeter set up around the club but there are a dozen fans waiting

outsideit.WhentheyspotTom,theyscreamwithexcitement.

Tomleansinclosetowhisperinmyear."Icanconvinceyou."
"How?"
Heslideshisfingertipsundermyt-shirtandpresseshispalmagainstthesmallofmyback."Like

this."

CHAPTERTWELVE

Theworldgoessilent.Norushingwind.Noscreamingfans.NothingbutmylungsemptyingasIfail
tofightmysigh.

Tomispressedagainstme.Hisfingertipsgrazetheexposedskinonmylowerback.Hisheartbeat

poundsagainstmychest.Helooksmeintheeyes,hisexpressionpuremayhem.

TheboyistroublewithacapitalT.
"Getyourmindoutofthegutter,kid.We'regoingdancing.It's90snight."Hestepsbackreleasing

me.

Thedoorswingsopenandslamsshut.Pete.Hesurveysthesceneandfrowns.
"This isn't going to make you feel better." Pete pulls his hood over his head and looks at the

womenwaitingoutsidethebarricade."I'lldothehonors."

Tomstopshim."Youshouldcomeoutwithus."
Peteshakeshishead.Hewalksawaywithoutofferinganexplanation.Butthere'snoconfusionon

Tom'sface.Whateverisgoingon,it'ssomethingtheyshare.

Tomwasupsetearlier,thinkingabouthismom.Itmustbeabouther.
"He'llchangehismind."Thereisn'tahintofdoubtinTom'svoice.
Cockinessorfamilialinstincts?HardtosaywithTom.
Hetakesmyhandandleadsmearoundthecorner,awayfromtheaction.Fromhereit'sonlyafew

blockstoourhotel.It'sdarkenoughthatwe'renotimmediatelyrecognizable.

Tomwrapshisarmaroundmywaist."Youmakeaniceshield."
"You'reluckyyou'reashot,rich,andfamousasyouare,becauseyoucanbearealasshole."
Hestopsataredlight,checksthetraffic,andpullsmeintothecrosswalk."YouthinkI'mhot?"
"Youknowyou'rehot."Ifollowhimalongthesidewalk.
"MaybeIdon't.MaybeyouandHazelwoundedmyfragileego."
"There'snothingfragileaboutyourego."
Hefeignsoffense,tuggingathist-shirtlikehecan'tstandhowhotheis.Itrisesabovehisbelly

button,revealinginchesofdefinedabs.Heplayedmostoftheshowshirtlessbutthatwasdifferent.He
wasinhisownworld,lostinthemusic.

Rightnow,he'shere.
It'snotlikewhenhewastalkingtothosewomenbackstage.He'snotperforming.He'sreallyhere,

inthismoment.

Tomdropshisshirt."Youkeeplookingatmelikethatandyou'llgivemeideas."
Okay.I'mgawking.Buthe'steasingme.He'stryingtocausethisreaction.Ikeepmygazefocused

onwhat'sinfrontofme.There'sthehotel.Ameretwoblocksaway.Buttherearepeopleinfrontofit.
Women.They'rewaitingfortheband.

Inodatthecrowd.
"Feelingshy?"heasks.
"You'refreetosoakinmoreadoration."
"Whydoesthatsoundlikeaninsult?"
Becausewatchingthosewomenpawathimmakesmewanttothrowup.Iclearmythroat."It'snot.

Youenjoyyourfame.Goodforyou."

"Stillsoundinglikeaninsult."Henodstotheleftandstepsintoaclearcrosswalk.
I follow him. "I'm tired and you're threatening to drag me to a 90s club to what—capture you

grindingwithaVictoria'sSecretmodel?We'reinPortland,notHollywood.Therearenocelebrities
here."

"Idon'tdiscriminate.Anybeautifulwomanwilldo."
"Well, there are half a dozen women right there." I point to the women waiting in front of the

hotel.We'refiveblocksawaynow,toofartoseeifanyofthewomenareuptoTom'sstandards.But,
hey,hedoesn'tdiscriminate.Itshouldbefine."Bringoneuptoyourroom.I'llgettheshot."

Tomstopsdeadinhistracks."Whatthefuckisyourproblem?"
"I'mtired."
"Well,I'mgoingout,andIwantyoutogowithme."
"Why?"
"Becauseyouneedtohavesomefun."Hisexpressionintensifiesashestaresintomyeyes.
No,I'mtired.Ipracticethewordsinmyhead,buttheyrefusetomakeitallthewaytomymouth.

It'swhatIalwayssaytoinvitations.I'mtired.Physically,mentally,andemotionallytired.Ialwayssay
no.Ialwayswanttosayno.

Butnotthistime.Iwanttosayyes.Iwanttoscreamyesandaddpressyourbodyagainstmineall

night.Fuckthedancing,let'sgobacktoyourroom.

"Willow.Hello?"
Thewordsarestillstuckinmythroat.
"You don't want to go, fine. I don't need an entourage to have a good time. I've never had a

problemfindingadancepartnerbefore."

Acidchurnsinmystomach.Okay.I'mjealous.Andworse,I'mjealousofahypotheticalperson.

I'vegotitbad.

Ishakemyhead."I'llgowithyou."
"Knewyou'dchangeyourmind."

***

Despitehisarrogance,Tomdoesthegentlemanlythingandwalksmetomyroom.

"Thanks."Islidethekeyintothedoorandnodgoodbye.
"Youknowwhatyou'rewearing?"
"Adressandheels?"There'snoconfidenceinmyvoice.Securitywassupposedtomovemystuff

totheroom.AslongasIhavemysuitcase,Ishouldbeabletofigureitout.Ipushthedooropen."I'll
wearclothes.Itwillbefine."

"Allright.I'mgonnashower.Bebackinten.Unless."Henodstotheclosedbathroomdoor."You

wanttotryandtakeapeekagain?"

"You'renotgoingtoletmelivethatdown,areyou?"
"Absolutelynot."
"Are you wearing that?" I point to his jeans and t-shirt. He looks fine. Sexy, actually. A little

sweaty,butthat'sonlyenhancinghisappeal.

"No,Iamnotwearingthis.ButI'mgladtoknowyourfeelingsonthematter."Heshakeshishead

inmockoutrage."Sojudgmental."

Donotengage.Donotengage!
InodbacktoTom."Seeyouintenminutes."
Hekissesmeonthecheek."Untilthen."
Okay.Friendskissonthecheek.InEurope.AndmaybeinLosAngelestoo.Certainlynoneofmy

friendsdoit.Butit'splausiblethatit'sTom'sthing.

Ofcourse,Ihaven’tseenhimkissanyofhisotherfriends.
Hell,Ihaven’tseenhimhuganyone.

Onlynineminutestogo.Itakeacoolshowerinthehopesofconvincingmybodyitdoesn'twant

Tom. No good. I'm still flushed and wanting. It's all right. We're staying the night in Portland. I'm
aloneinthisroom.

I can take care of this need on my own. It's not as if I'll be thinking about him the entire time.

Imaginingthosestronghandsonmyhips,thatcockymouthonmy—

Fuck.Onlythreeminutestogo.Idigthroughmysuitcase.Organizationisn'toneofmystrengths.

Itosstwopairsofjeans,threetops,andeveryGoddamnpairofunderwearIownasidebeforeIfind
asingledress.It'sblackandshort.That'swhatpeopleweardancing.Moreorless.

Only two minutes to decide. I slide into the dress. Matching heels are nowhere to be found. But

brightsneakersarevery90s.IslipintomyhotpinkKedsandlinemyeyesinpurple.

Aknockonthedoordisruptsmyalreadyunsteadyhand.Shit.That'samess."Justaminute."Iwipe

myeyelinercleanwithawettissueandanswerthedoor.

Tomlooksmeover.HecopiesthetoneIusedearlier."That'swhatyou'rewearing?"
"Istheresomethingwrongwithit?"
"It's90snight.Youneedcolor.Comeon."Hestepsintotheroomandcrouchesoverthesuitcase,

pawing through my stuff. He tosses a navy mini skirt and a pink crop top on the bed. "That will be
better."

Thatwillcertainlybeless.Thetopisminusculeandtheskirtisbarelylongenoughtocovermy

ass."Idon'tthinkso."

"Tryit."
Ishakemyhead.
Hereachesforthebottomofmydress."Don'tforcemetoremoveyourclothes."
Myheartbeatpicksup.
"Youhavefiveseconds.Four."Helooksmeintheeyes,daringme."Three."
Istepbackwards."Okay.I'lltryit.Waitinthebathroom."
"Asyouwish."Hedoesashe'sasked.
The room feels different without his presence. Colder. Less inviting. I change into the skimpy

outfitasquicklyaspossible.

"Okay.Youcancomeback."IpressmyhandsovermystomachasIcheckmyreflection.Ican't

wearthis.It'snothing.

Tomlooksmeupanddown.Allthatsmugnessfallsofhisface.Hiseyesgowide.Hislipspart.

"That'snogood."Hepullsmyhandstomysides,hisfingersbrushingmyexposedskin.

"Why?"
Tomtracestheexposedskinonmyside,fromthetopofmyskirttothebottomofmycroptop.

"Justchangeback."

"Why."
Hischeeksflush."It'stoosexy."
He'snervous.
"Change.Now."Heshiftstowardsthebathroom,hisbodybrushingagainstmine.
He's still close. Still warm. I reach for him, get the back pocket of his jeans. I need to say

something.ThatIcanbesexyifIwant.Thatitdoesn'tmatterwhatTomthinks.

Onlyitdoes.IwanthimtothinkI'msexy.
"Tom." My hand brushes against his hip. "I... I want to look sexy. You do. You always look

desirable.Whycan'tIdothesame?"

Igotostepbackintosomebold,confidentpose,butmyfootcatchesonthebedspread.Shit.Islip

andfallbackwards.Myasshitsthebed.Thenslidesdowntothefloor.Bam.I'monmyback,mylegs
spread.Ipressmyhandsintothegroundtopushmyselfup.

Tom'sgazepassesoverme.Itstopsbetweenmylegs.
"Uh..."Hiseyescloudwithdesire.
HewatchesmewithraptattentionasIrisetomyfeet.Atmythighs,myhips,mystomach.Bythe

timeheworkshiswaytomyeyes,I'mbuzzinglikeapowerline.

Touchme,please.
Throwmeonthatbed.
Kissme.
Something.
I try to speak but my mouth is sticky. My hands are clammy. I wipe them on the skirt. Damn

polyesterthingfailstoabsorbthesweat.

Tom moves past me again, reaching for my suitcase. I'm too nervous to balance. I cling to his

shirtandtugatittostayupright.Hesmellsgood.Icanfeelhishardmusclesthroughthesoftfabric.
Goddamn,Ireallyhatehisstupidshirtatthemoment.

Ipressmylipstogether.Iwanttorespecthiswishes.Justfriends.Icandothat.
Intheory.
ButIneedtotouchhim.Atleasthisarm.Something.Itrytopullhimcloser.Helooksatme,this

strangemixoflustandconfusioninhiseyes.

Heshiftsforward.Itknocksmeoffbalance,andIfallbackonthebed.
He'sontopofmeasecondlater.Anaccidentoronpurpose?
His hands plant just outside my shoulders. His body lines up perfectly with mine. His chest, his

crotch,histhighs—they'reallpressedagainstmine.

Hislipsarethreeinchesfrommine.
Hesmellslikemint.
Theroomissilent.
Hestaresintomyeyes.Istareback.
Hishandgoestothebackofmythigh.Hepushesmeup,allthewayontothebed.Buthedoesn't

moveoffme.

My lungs refuse to cooperate with me. Am I breathing? Is it even possible to breathe? There. I

inhale.Exhale.

He'shard.
Forme.
Electricitycollectsbelowmybellybutton.We'reclosetosomethingperfect.
Thenthere'saknockonthedoor.
Andeverythingiswrong.
Tom practically jumps off the bed. He moves to the other side of the room, his back pressed

againstthewall.

Hewantsme.Headjustshisclothesbutthatdoesnothingtohidetheevidence.
Anotherknock.
"Youconvincedme."Pete'svoiceboomsthroughthedoor.
"I'mglad."Tomyellsback.
Damn.Cunt-blockedbyPeteofallpeople.GiventheexpressiononTom'sface,I'mguessingthis

isforthebest.He'snotenticedorexcitedordrippingwithdesire.

Helooksuncomfortable,supremelyuncomfortable.
Butstillhard.
"Why is he coming to my room?" I pull the blanket around my shoulders in the hopes of

disappearing.

No good. I'm still here. The room is still warm with fluorescent yellow light. And Tom is still

lookingatmelikeI'mthelastpersonintheworldhewantstosee.

"ToldhimI'dbehere."Tomrunshishandthroughhishair.Hisexpressionshifts.Allthewayback

tonormal.

Buthe'sstillhard.
Hiseyesmeetmine."Getdressed.I'llwaitoutside."
"Tom...I..."
Hisexpressionscreamsdon't.
Nosenseinembarrassingmyselfanyfurther.Inodmybesteverythingisnormalnod."Ishouldbe

aboutfiveminutes."

"Sure."
"Great."
"Great."Hestepsoutsidethedoor.
Really,reallygreat.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

It's difficult to concentrate with the sting of rejection spreading to my limbs. It's not as if we're
anything,asifIhaveanyrighttoexpectations.Tomissexy,rich,famous,adored.Hehashispickof
women,doesn'thaveanyinterestinarelationship.It'snotgoingtohappen.

Istayinmyskimpyoutfit.Hopefully,somemaleattentionwillnursemywoundedego.Maybemy

bodywillwantoneoftheguysattheclub.MaybeI'llfinallybreakmydrystreakandrealizethatsex
isloadsoffun.

Anythingispossible.
The mood in the hallway is tense. Whatever Pete and Tom are discussing must be awful. They

silenceimmediately.Petenodsahello.Tomslideshisarmaroundmywaistthenpullsitbacktohis
side.

"Sorry,"hemumblesthennodstothestairway."Cab’swaitinginback."
Pete looks from me to Tom for a second. His expression is doubtful but he remains silent. I'm

likingthissilencething.Savesmefrommakingafoolofmyselfagain.

WefollowTomdownthenarrowstaircaseandoutthebackdoor.Therainisnolongeramist.It's

pouring. Within moments, my thin cotton top is soaked. The fabric clings to my skin. Picked the
wrongdaytoskipabra.AtleastthiswillbeaspainfulforTomasitisforme.

Hetakesoneoftheendseats.
Petenodstothemiddle."YouwanttotakethatoryouwantmetositonTom'slap?"
Hisattempttodefusethetensionfailsmiserably.Mystomachtenses.Tomfrowns,turningtoface

thewindowoppositeus.

"I'lltakeit,"Isay."Iwouldn'twantHazeltogetjealous."
"Anydaynow."Tomtapshisfingersimpatiently.
Islideintothemiddleseat.It'satightfit.Mythighpressesagainsthis.There'snowaytoarrange

myarmssotheyaren'ttouchingTom.IadjustmyskirtandtopsoI'mascoveredaspossible.Itmakes
littledifference.

Petetakeshisseatandslamsthedoorshut.Hegivestheaddresstothefriendlycabdriver.Then

we'reoff.

A bump sends me halfway out of my seat. The belt tugs against my lap. I grab onto the nearest

thingtokeepmybalance.Turnsoutthat'sthethighsoneithersideofme.NowI'mgropingtwomenat
once.MaybeIcangettworejectionsatonce.Thatwillmakethisdayevenbetter.

Tomgrowls.HestaresdaggersatPete'sthigh.He'ssilent,ofcourse.It'snotlikeI'mtryingtostart

athreesomebackhere.

Ipullmyhandsbacktomylap.ButthatdoesnothingtoeasethetensioninTom'storso.He'sstill

clenched, angry. I remind myself that his bad mood isn't my problem, that we are friends, and that
friends communicate with each other instead of growling incoherently and pretending they didn't
almostkiss.

"Howlonghaveyoubeenaphotographer,Willow?"Petebreaksthesilence.
Adistraction.Thankgoodness.Tomshrugshisshoulders,shiftinghisgazeinmydirection.
"Itookitupinhighschool,butIdidn'tgetseriousuntilcollege."Iplaywithmycamera."Itwas

mymajor."

"Wheredidyougotoschool?"
"Berkley.IgraduatedinDecember.Asemesterearly."
"Congrats.Can'tdomuchbetterthanworkingunderHazelAlexander."
"Thanks.She'samazingsofar."ImakeeyecontactwithPete."Ithinkshehasacrushonyou."

"Can'tblameher.EveryoneknowsI'mthesexiestguyinSinfulSerenade."
"Whatareyoubasingthaton?"Iask.
"Don'ttellmeyouprefersomeoneelse,"Peteteases.
Tomjumpsin."Don'tflirtwithWillow."
PetestaresbackatTom.It'sthekindoflookthatsaysvolumes.It'snotsayinganyofthevolumes

tome,butitmustcommunicatesomethingtothem,becausealltalkingceases.Bothmenpresstheir
backsintotheirseatsinsilence.

Thelasttwominutesoftheridepassatanagonizingrate.Mercifully,wearrive.
Tomreachesforthedoor,butPetestopshim.
"Tom,aword."Petelooksatme."Ifyou'llexcuseus."
"Yeah,sure."Idon'twaitforTomtomove.Iclimboverhimonmywayoutthedoor.
Heletsoutasoftgroanasmyassmakescontactwithhiscrotch.Themanhasgonethreeweeks

withoutcoming.It'sjustphysical.Notpersonal.

Istandundertheclub'sawningtoavoidtherain.Theplacelooksnice.Ornatedoors,cleanwalls,

dimlightingthatmakesithardtoseeinside.

I play with my camera to pass the time. The Whole Foods across the street isn't the most

interestingsubject,buttherainaddsalottotheshots.IbarelynoticeTomandPetegetoutofthecab.

Tomgrabsmywrist."Comeon.Let'sdance."
"Uh."Ifollowhiminsidetheclub."Okay."
WeshowourIDstothebouncersthenmakeourwayupthestairs,tothemainarea.
Theceilingsarehigh,thewindowsarewide,andtheroomispackedwithpeopleinbrightcolors.

BritneySpearsboomsfromthespeakers.

Tomdances,mostlybyhimself.Iattempttocopyhismovementsbutthere'snowaymymotions

qualifyasanythingmorethanerraticswaying.

Islow."I'mnotaverygooddancer."
"It'seasy.Comehere.
HegrabsmyhipsandguidesmeuntilI'mmovingintimewiththerhythm.Myposturesoftens.
Hishandsslidetomywaist.Mylowerback.Theskinonskincontactsendsabuzzofelectricity

straighttomycore.Iwanthimandbadly.Withoutallthesedamnclothesintheway.

Hepullsmybodytowardshis,leadingwithhiships.
Damn, he's a good dancer. Precise and rhythmic and seamless with his movements. My eyelids

fluttertogether.Isoakinthemusic,thefeelingofhisbodyagainstmine.

Thesongchangesandhemoveshisbodyaway.Notfar,onlysixorseveninches,butit'senough

thatIgocold.Mymusclestense.Mygazegoestothehighceilings.

Tom's fingertips graze my lower back. Up, up, up, all the way to the bottom of my t-shirt. He

movescloser.Leansintowhisperinmyear.

Buthesaysnothing.
Hepullsback,releasinghistouch."Youwantadrink?"
"Nothanks."
He'salreadygone.Halfwaytothebar.Itrytopushoutanyfeelingbesidesthemusic.ThisShakira

songusedtobemyfavorite.Ithrowmyarmsovermyhead.Imakecircleswithmyhips.

Abeardedguyinat-shirt,thickarmsdottedwithtattoos,comesuptome."Wanttodance?"
OkayIcandothat."Sure."
Heplaceshishandsonmyhipsbutkeepshisdistance.Hisgazegoestomychest.Firstmybreasts

thenthetattooabovethem."Niceink."

"Thanks."Iclampmylipstogether,moveclosersowewon'thavetotalkanymore.I'msurethis

guyisnice,butIdon'tdiscussmytattoowithstrangers.It'stoopersonal.

My body presses against his. Nothing. He's an attractive man. Friendly brown eyes. Short dark

hair.Hischestissculpted.Hisshouldersarebroad.

I bring my hands to said shoulders. Nothing. He slides his hands to my lower back. Nothing.

DancingwithhimisfinebutIfeelnothing.

"Excuse me." Tom bursts between us without another word. He raises his hands to show off the

shotsofamberliquid."Whiskey."Hepushesoneoftheglassesintomyhand.

"Idon'tdrink."
Tomlookstothebeardedman."Nicetomeetyou,butmyfriendandIhavesomeshotstotake."
"Doesn'tsoundlikeshe'sinterested,"hesays.
"Allright,uptoyou,kid.Stayanddancewiththislumberjackifthat'swhatyouwant."Tomslams

hisshotandstepsaside.

"Excuseme."InodgoodbyetothebeardedguyandfollowTomtoanalmostemptycornerofthe

room.

Heoffersmethedrink."Stillyoursifyouwantit."
"No,thankyou."
"Suityourself."Heslamstheshotthensetstheemptyglassesaside.Hishandsgotomyhipsand

hepullsmebacktothedancefloor."Youcatchonprettyfast."

"Huh?"
"Yourdancing.You'vegotthehangofit."
Hekeepshisdistancethistime.It'sstillcloseenoughthatmyheartisthuddingagainstmychest.
After a few songs, I relax into the rhythm. A long time ago, I loved dancing. It's not quite as

freeingwithmybodykeyedupoverTom'sproximity,butit'sstilllotsoffun.

Songaftersong,Ilosetrackofeverythingbutthemusicandhisbodyagainstmine.Wedancefor

thebetterpartofanhour,ourbodiesswayingtogether,beforewehitaslowjam.

IslidemyarmsaroundTom'sneckandlookupathim.There'sallthisstraininhisexpression,

likehe'sdesperatetobethinkingaboutsomethingotherthanwhat'sonhismind.

"Youokay?"Iask.
"Yeah."Hepullsback."Justneedanotherdrink.Youwantsomething?"
"Water."
He nods and makes his way to the bar. I scan the room for Pete. He's on a couch in the corner,

brooding.Whatisitthesetwoguysaregoingthrough?

Itrytokeepmymindonthemusic,butit'shardtoslowdancebyyourself.Tomisbackquickly.

Withawaterandtwodouble-shotsofwhiskey.HefollowsmygazetoPeteandnodslet'sgo.

Tom takes my hand and leads me through the crowd. I guess it's dark enough that no one

recognizeshim.Ormaybeit'sthekindofplacewherenoonecares.Afterall,we'retrappedinthe90s.
Nosenseingettinghunguponamoderndaycelebrity.

HeplopsonthecouchnexttoPeteandhandshisbrotheradrink."Mopingwon'tmakeyoufeel

better."

"Neitherwillgettingwasted."
Tomglares.Heslamshisdrinkanddropstheemptyglassonasidetable.
Itakecarefulsipsofmywater.
TomholdsuphisdrinktoPete.Nothing.Tome.Ishakemyhead.
Tomtakesaswig."Whythefuckiseveryoneglumallthetime?"
"Don'tstart,"Petesays.
"Don'tdowhateverthefuckthisis."Tomfinisheshisdrinkanddropsitonthetable."Youthink

thisisgoingtochangethings?"

"Youthinkforgettingyournameisgonnachangethings?"

"Everyonealreadyknowsmyfuckingname."
"Goddamn,you'reanobnoxiousdrunk."
Tomlooksatmewithpuppydogeyes."Youthinksotoo,kid?YouthinkI'mobnoxious?"
"I'mnotgettinginvolved,"Isay.
"Youwon'thurtmyfeelings."Heraiseshiseyebrows."Ihaveamassiveego."
"SoI'veseen,"Isay.
Pete'sjawdrops."Sticks,pleasetellmeyoudidn't—"
"I didn't. Damn. You really think I'd be stupid enough to fuck Guitar Prince's baby sister? We're

justfriends.Realgoodfriends."Tomlooksmeintheeyes."Right,kid?"

I'msilent.
"You'remakingafoolofyourself,"Petesays.
"Don'tIalways?"Tomturnstome,ignoringhisbrother."Youlookedmiserablebefore.Ihateto

disappoint."

"Excuseme."Inodtothedancefloor."Iuh...Ireallylovethissong."
Petemakeseyecontact."Youwantmetohithim?"
Ishakemyhead."It'sfine.I'vegotitundercontrol."
"Ifyoudon't—"Petepointstothecouch.“I’llbehere.”
"We'vegotachaperone.Fun."Tommotionsformetofollowhim."GuessI'mnottrustworthy."
IgrabontoTom'swristsandrefusetoletgo."He'sright.Whateveryou'rerunningfromisgoing

tocatchyou."

"I'm aware." He shakes off my hands then takes them and places them around his shoulders. "If

youdon'twanttodancewithme,don't.I'mnotlackingforinterestedpartners."

"That'scharming."
"Justsaying."Heslideshishandstomyhips."Ifyou'regonnadosomethingdoitright."
Hishandsmakeacompellingargument.Itightenmygriponhisshouldersandswayintimewith

themusic.

Westaycloseforafewsongs.Nowords.Justthemusicandourbreath.
Thenthesongshiftstosomethingslow.
With his hands on my hips, Tom leads. He pulls me closer. Closer. His thigh shifts between my

legs.Thenhisthighisagainstmysex,thefabricofhisjeanscreatingfrictioninmycottonpanties.

Mybreathcatchesinmythroat.Nodoubtmycheeksareaspinkasmyhair.God,thatfeelsgood.I

grabathisshoulders.Stareupintohiseyes.He'swatchingme,intently,studyingmyreaction.Inod
thebestyesIcanmuster.Whateverthisis,yes.

Herespondsbypullingmecloser.Thefrictionisenoughtosendpleasuretoeverynerveinmy

body.

Tombringshismouthtomyears."DoyourealizehowmuchyoulightupwhenItouchyou?"
Isaynothing.
His fingers skim the waist of my skirt then settle on my lower back. It's completely appropriate

for dancing. Normal. But my body doesn't feel normal. My body is buzzing, desperate to get those
handsundermyskirt.

Onehandtracesitswayupmyback,allthewaytothebottomofmystillcroptop.Thenunderit.

Hisfingertipsgracemybareskin.I'mnotwearingabra.He'ssoclosetotouchingmeproperly.

Whyisn'thetouchingmeproperly?
Mybodythrobswithneed.IstareintoTom'seyes.There'snoclueinthem.Noexplanation.He's

beenclearaboutusbeingfriends.Thisisn'twhatfriendsdo.Friendsdon'tdancelikethis.

Don'tleadeachotheron.
"Excuseme."Istepback."I'mgoingtosittherestoftheseout."

Thesongshiftstosomethingfaster.
"Willow,don't.I'llstop."Hisfingersgrazemywrist."Don'tbroodwithPete.It'snofun."
I will myself to push Tom away, but his body feels too fucking good. Okay. I need to focus on

something else. On whatever it is that's upsetting him. "Yeah. But you can't run away from your
feelings.Youhavetoletthepainsinkinsometimes."

"Notinterestedinpain.Ipreferpleasure."
Istarebackathim.It'shardtotellifhe'sserious,especiallywiththelimitedlighting."Whatdoes

thatmean?"

"I'mnottryingtobeoblique,kid.ButI'mmorethanhappytoexplainindetailifthat'swhatgets

youoff."

Okay.Heismockingme.That'senough."Stopit."
"Stopwhat?"
"Teasingme.Igetthatyou'reaslut.Igetthatyoucannailanywomanyouwant.Igetthatyoucan

tellI'mattractedtoyou,thatitamusesyouthatsomeonelikemewouldwantsomeonelikeyou.Stop
rubbingitinmyGoddamnface."

"Doesn'tamuseme."
"Yesitdoes."
"Itdoesn't.I...Forgetit."
"Juststopteasingme.Idon'tcarehowlongit'sbeenorhowmanydaysyouhaveleftuntilyoucan

finallynailthefirstgirlwhomeetsyourstringentcriteria."Itakeastepbackwards."Ihaven'thadsex
insixyears,andyoudon'tseemetorturingmyfriendstopassthetime."

Tom'sjawdrops.
Icontinuebeforehesayssomethingtomakemeevenmoreangry."I'vegotthemessage.Youcan

dobetter.We'refriends.Platonic.Thatwasyouredict,notmine."

"Sixyears?"
"Yes."
"That'snotpossible."
Iignorehiscommentary.Ineedtostayfocusedonmakingitoutofthisalive."Stopflirtingwith

me.Please."

"Stoplookingatmelikeyou'rethinkingaboutmenaked."
"Fine."
"Great."
Ispinandheadforthecouch.
Petehasthatsamecalmexpressiononhisface.Heleansincloseenoughtowhisper."Youcango.

I'llkeepaneyeonTom."

"No,I'mgreat.Havingalotoffun."
IttakesTomthebriefestofmomentstofindadancepartner.Hepicksablondewomenwithlong

hairandashortskirt.Hishandsgotoherhips,inchesfromherass.Shewhisperssomethinginhis
earandclingstohisshoulderslikehe'sabuoyandshe'slostatsea.

"Hewon'tfuckher,"Petesays.
"Causehecan'tfuckanyone."
"True."Petewatchestheaction."Buthewon'ttakeherhome."
"IfI'mreallyluckythey'llstartnecking."
"Theywon't.Hedoesn'tkissonthelips."
Istarebackathimasiftoaskreally.
"Youlearnwaytoomuchaboutaperson'ssexualhabitsontour.NotthatIcantalk."
Ilookathimcuriously.

"Phonesex.Igetcarriedaway.OrIdid.Longstory,notveryinteresting."Peteturnstome."You

likehim?"

Nosenseindenyingsomethingthisobvious."Yeah."
"Tom'sneverthoughtaboutanyonethatway.Notsurethathebelievesanyonewilleverlovehim."
That'ssad.Theacidinmystomachsettlesdown.It'shardtostayangryatsomeonewhoseemsso

lost.He'sdancingwiththegirl,yeah,buthe'snothere.Notreally.

Petepushesoffthecouchandoffershishand."Comeon.Let'sgo.Hewon'tkeepmakingafoolof

himselfwithoutanaudience."

Tom is already on to a new dance partner. She paws at him. She's clearly not interested in Tom

Steele,humanbeing.Shestaresathimlikehe'sashinycelebritytrophytoshowallherfriends.

InodayestoPeteandfollowhimoutoftheclub.

***

Backatthehotel,Ibrushmyteethandcollapseinbed.Screwpajamas.Istriptomypantiesandhide
underthecovers.

Mymindisracing.Almostthreea.m.andI'mnowherenearsleep.Itossandturnforasolidhour,

tryingtothinkaboutanythingbuthowgoodTom'shandsfeltagainstmyskin.

Hewasdrunk.
Didn'tmeananything.
Iwillmyselftostopthinkingabouthim,butthat'sacompletelyuselessgoal.Fine.Iguessthere's

onlyonewaytosatisfymydesire.

Ipullthecoversovermyheadandslidemyhanddownmytorso.It'sbeenawhilesinceI'vedone

this.Haven'tfeltanyinclination.Myfingertipsskimthewaistofmypanties.Already,Icantellitwon't
beenough.Won'thelpthesituationany.

There'salightknockonthedoor.
No.Whoeverthatis,no.Islinkunderthecovers.
Theyknockagain.
"Willow,hey."
Tom.
Hasn'thetorturedmeenough?

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

"Youup?"Heasks."Ihavetosaysomethingtoyou."

"Comebackwhenyou'resober."
"I'msoberenough."Hetapsonthedoor."Please."
Iwanttoknowwhatitisthat'ssoimportantitcan'twaitforadecenthourofthemorning.ButI'm

notgoingtomakethiseasyforhim.

I pull a thin white tank top over my head and check my reflection in the mirror. It's practically

transparent.Perfect.

Iopenthedoor."Yeah?"
Hiseyespassovermeslowly.Theylingeronmythighs,mycrotch,mybreasts.
"Eyesuphere,Tom."Icopyhistone.
"CanIcomein?"
Probablybestnottomakenoiseinthehallwayatfoura.m.Inod,yes,andplantonmybed.Tom

closesthedoorbehindhim.

Hesitsnexttome,hiskneepressingagainstmine."Youwereright.Ishouldn'tbeteasingyou."
It'safarcryfromI'msorry,Willow.Letmemakeituptoyouinorgasms.Oneforeveryasshole

thingIsaid.Shouldbeasolideight,thenI'llsatisfyyouwithmysolideightbutit'ssomething."Okay."

"Yeah.Just.Ineverhadagirlfriendbefore.Don'texactlyknowtheprotocol."
"Prettysureyouknowitdoesn'tinvolvegrinding."
"Idon'tmeantoflirtthathard.Can'thelpmyself."Herunsahandthroughhishair."Noexcuses.

I'llcutitout."

"Great."Idigmytoesintothecarpet.It'srough,scratchy."Howwas...thatgirl?"
"Subtle."
"Itry."
"Didn'ttakeherhome."
"Whynot?"
"Didn't feel like it..." He shifts, uncomfortable. "I'm gonna wait the whole two and a half weeks.

Toofrustratingotherwise."

"Whathappenedtogivingwithoutreceiving?"
"My cock isn't getting the message." He looks me in the eyes. "You've really gone six years

withoutfuckinganybody?"

"Yeah."
"Yougetfingeredoreatenoutoranything?"
"Idon'tthinkthisisappropriateplatonicfriendsconversation."
"Okay.CanIaskonething?"Hisexpressionisearnest,concerned.
Inod."Onething."
"Howfuckinghornyareyouallthetime?"
"Honestly?"
"Yeah."
"Ididn'treallythinkaboutsexatall.Untilrecently."
"Howrecently."
"UntilIwalkedinonyounaked."
"That'snotpersonal.Justthatit'sbeenyears.It'snotlikeyouwerepracticingyourphotography

takingnudesofhotmalemodels,right?"

"True."

"You appreciate an attractive naked man. Nothing wrong with that. As soon as you see another

guy,getlaid,you'llrealizeI'mnotspecial."

"Iappreciateyouwritingoffmydesire.Maybeyoushouldgetanewplatonicfemalefriend,so

youcanrealizeI'mnotspecial."

"Didn'tmeanthat."Hepullstheblanketaside,makingroomformetogetunderit."Gobackto

bed."

"Idon'tneedtobetuckedin."
"Youwantmetoleave,saytheword."
Isaynothing.Instead,ImakeapointofstretchinglongasIlieonmyback.Myshirtpullsupmy

stomach,almostallthewaytomychest.

Tom'sgazegoestomyexposedskin."Yousleepinthat?"
Inod.
Hisfingersgrazetheedgeofmytanktop.Hestartstopullitdown.Slowly.Tooslowly.Heatraces

throughmybody.Ibitemylip,squeezemytoesintothesheet.

Tomlooksintomyeyes.It'sjustlikeintheclub.He'saskingforpermission.Halfofmewantsto

tellhimtogofuckhimselfwithhismixedsignals.Theotherhalfwantstobeghimtogetintothisbed
andtogetmeoutoftheseclothes.

There.Theshirtisbackinplace.Hisfingersgrazethewaistofmypanties.Theystaythere.
Irockmyhipsforward,halfaninch.
Hisfingersstayinplace.Notmovingcloser.Notpullingaway.
Justthere.Teasingme.Fillingmewithanticipation.
Ipressmyeyelidstogether.Mylipspartwithasigh.Yes.Please.Now.
Hedoesn'tmove.
Ican'ttakethisanymore.Ihavetoknowwhatthisissupposedtomean.
"Tom,I..."Asighbreaksupmywords.
Helooksaway."Youshouldgettobed."
What?He'sleaving.Hecan'tleavenow.I'monfire.
Heshiftsoffthebed."I...I'llseeyoutomorrow."
He opens the door and steps into the hallway. He's half lit, half in darkness. It would look

gorgeous on film, but it's hard to appreciate anything at the moment. He spent the whole night
workingmeupandnowhe'sleaving.

"Goodnight,kid.Sweetdreams."Hepullsthedoorclosed.

***

I wake up flushed and wanting. Nothing helps. Not swimming laps. Not a cold shower. Not an egg
sandwichandamassivecupofdarkroastcoffee.Evenavoidingthebandisahollowvictory.

When I can't come up with an excuse for why I, the lowly photographer's assistant, am the one

holdingupthedrivetoSeattle,Igetmyasstothebus.

OnlyI'mnotholdingupanything.Tomistheonlyonehere.
Hiseyesconnectwithmine."Wherethefuckhaveyoubeen?"
"Out."
"I called you ten times." He folds his arms over his chest. "Next time try picking up your God

damnphone."

"Why?It'snotlikeyouwereworried."
"WhosaysIwasn't?"
"Ifoundapoolandwentswimming."

"Just tell me next time." He pulls his hoodie over his head and closes his eyes. "God damn, it's

brightinhere."

Someonestepsontothebus.Miles.
"Pretty sure that's called a hangover." He looks at Tom with a smug expression. "Thought you

wereabovehangovers,Sticks."

"Fuckoff,"Tomgrowls.
"Thoughtthathangoverswereasignyoucouldn'thandleyourshit.Thatyouwereoutofcontrol,"

Milessays.

"Youwanttodothisnow?"TomglaresatMiles."CauseI'vegotafuckinglaundrylisttobackup

mycase.It'sstartswithAtivanandendswithEcstasy."

"Ecstasydoesn'tstartwithanX."Milesnodshello."Howareyoudoing,Willow?"
"Fine." I glance at Tom. "Xanax starts with an X. But those are both prescription anti-anxiety

meds." I swallow hard. The therapist at my boarding school was particularly aggressive with
medication.I'msurethedrugshelpotherpeople,butIhatedfeelinglikeIwaslivingunderacloud.

"SweetofyoutohelpTommakehisargument."Mileslooksmeintheeyes."Bringanybodyback

to your place last night or stuck hanging with Tom and Pete? Although... Wouldn't be a bad man
sandwichifyou'reintothatkindathing.AtleastifyoucangetmostofitfromPeteandnotTom."

"Amansand—"OhGod,hemeansathreesome.
"Wouldn'tthatbeagirlsandwich?"Tomasks."Thegirlisinthemiddle.Youdon'tcallapastrami

onryearyesandwich."

Milesnods,acceptinghispoint."YouandPeteevertagteamagirl?"
"Fuckoff."
LightfloodsthebusasMilesflipsopentheblinds.Tomglaresdaggersathim.
"Didn'trealizeitwasasoresubject."Mileslaughs."Moresorefortheluckylady."
Godhelpme,there'ssomethingappealingabouttheideaofthetwoofthematonce.MaybeIfell

onmyheadandwokeupasexmaniac.Thatwouldexplainthesuddeninfluxoflustinmyveins.

"Pete?Seriously.He'sonlyeverbeenwithCindy,"Tomssays."Anddon'ttalkabouthimlikethat."
"Youeverlistentothemangoatitonthephone?Theshitthatcomesoutofhismouthmakesme

blush.Bethecangetagirloffwithouteventouchingher."

"Isn'tthatthepointofphonesex?"
"Butwithouthertouchingherself."
"That'smybrother,asshole."
"Notbiologically."Milesshrugs.
"Youeverhaveathreesomewithanotherguy?"Tomasks.
"Onceortwice.WhenIwasusing,fuckifIremember."
"Who?"
"Nobodyyouknow."
"Drew?"Tomasks.
Mileslaughssohardhecries."Fuck,Sticks,that'sagoodone."
"Icouldseeit."
Thelaughtercontinues."Okay.Sure.WhowouldDrewtapin?You?"
"No.Somebodyhedoesn'twanttopunchintheface."
"So, nobody." Miles shakes his head, apology in his eyes. "Sorry about the mental images." He

looksbacktoTom."Whothefuckdidyoutapin?"

"Itwasinhighschool,"Tomsays.
"Wewenttothesamehighschool."
"Youweretwogradesaboveme."

"Who?"
"ItwasafteryoumovedtoMalibu."
"Mhmm."
Tombreaks.Hefeignsshyness."Alan'sgirlfriendhadafantasy.Itwasherbirthdaywish."
Miles laughs. "You've always been giving." He looks back to me. "You ever have a threesome,

Willow?"

"No. I don't really sleep around." I try to change the subject before my mind gives up on

productivity and moves to the gutter. My birthday is coming up. If Tom just goes around granting
women'sbirthdaywishes—

"I'll be your wingman if you want to change that." Miles steps past Tom, pointing me to the

kitchenette."Youhaveahangover?Don'tmindtorturingTomwiththecoffeegrinderbutyouseem
likeanicegirl."

"It'sanillusion.I'mactuallyaheinousbitch,"Isay.
Miles laughs. He pulls out a coffee grinder and fills it with fresh beans. It turns on with a loud

whir.

Tomcringes.Heletsoutthisloudgroanthatsoundsequalpartsanguishedandturnedon.
Mycheeksflush.
Yes.Again.
Milesiswatchingme.Smiling.Hetapsthesideofthegrinderandturnsitback.Whir.
Tom'sgroanislouderandevenmoreanguished."Fuck.Youhavetodothatnow?"
"Dowhat?"Milesgrinsaway.
Whir.Whir.Whir.
"Fuckingasshole."Tomgrabstwopillowsandcovershisears.
Mileslaughs.Heturnsbacktome."Whatkindofguysdoyoulike?"
Fuckit.I'mtoofrustratedtokeepthistomyself."Guyswhoareclearabouttheirintentions.Who

don'tblowhotandcold."

IcanfeelTom'seyesonme.Sureenough,he'sstaringwiththishurtlookonhisface.
Milesclearshisthroat."Ah,dealingwithacunt-teaseisnogood.Kickthatguytothecurb."
Tomlooksatme."Maybehehasanexplanation.Hewasdrunkandlethiscockdothethinkingfor

him.Maybetheguyrealizedhewascrossingtheline."Hiseyesgotothefloor."Andittookevery
fuckingounceofwillpowerhehadtodotherightthing."

MilesstaresatTomwithalookthatdemandsexplanation.
Tomshoveshishandsintohispockets."Youmakingcoffeeoryoujustgivingmeaheadache?"
"Damn,"Milessays."Neverseenyouthispissy,Sticks.Thoseblueballsaregettingtoyou."
"Fuckoff,"Tomgrowls.
"You'reprovingmypoint."

***

IthankMilesforthecoffeeandsipinsilence,countingdownthesecondsuntilIwillnolongerbein
thesamespaceasTom.

AgespasswhilewewaitforPeteandDrewtoarrive.Oncewe'reallsettledin,thebustakesoff.
I hide behind my laptop, pretending I'm busy editing photos. There's nothing worth editing on

herebesidesthepicturesofTomhalfnakedandGodknowsthat'snotgoingtohelpmysituationany.

A groan breaks my concentration. From the way heat is building between my legs, it must be

Tom's.Sureenough,he'sonthecouchnexttoMiles,losingatashootervideogame.They'reteasing
eachother,caughtupinthecompetition.

WhenTom'seyescatchmine,hisexpressionchanges.Confused.Regretfuleven.There'ssomuch

tensionbetweenus.EvenwhenIlookaway,Icanfeelitspreadingthroughtheair.

Itrytothinkaboutmyfuture.Afterthistour,I'llhaveenoughsavingstoopenastudio,butIneeda

focus. Don't get me wrong—I'll take whatever work I can get—but no one is going to hire a
photographerwhoisokayateverything.Ineedtobeamazingatonething.

Headshotsarefine.Alittletoonice.Editorialworkwouldbeamazing,butit'shardtocomeby,

anditdoesn'tpaywell.Ineedsomethingsteadyenoughtosupportmyself.There'snowayI'mtaking
moneyfrommyparents.EvenfromDrew.

Boudoirhaspotential.There'sanappealingrawnesstoit.Asexuality.Toomuch,really.HowamI

ever going to convince shy clients to feel comfortable when I'm utterly lost in the sex and love
department?

When we arrive in Seattle, I get set up in my hotel room and pour myself into collecting

photographic inspiration. I don't stop until my stomach growls. Okay. It's about dinnertime. I need
somethingtodoafterIeat,somethingthatwillkeepmefromthinkingaboutTom.Isurfthenetfor
inspiration.

There.Perfect.FightClubisplayingatahiptheaterdowntown.Shirtless,sexy,alphamaleBrad

Pitt is sure to replace Tom as my fantasy man. And the other great stuff about the movie.
Cinematography,snappydialogue...

Othersexyshirtlessmen.
I grab a sandwich at the coffee shop outside the hotel and take a cab to the movie theater. It's a

beautifulnight.Crispair.Darksky.Everythingisshadesofblueandgreen.Eventhetheater.Itsyellow
marqueestandsoutagainstitssoftblueexterior.

It's twenty minutes to show time. Perfect. I can grab a snack and a drink and relax before the

movie.

Onlythere'snohopeofrelaxing.
Tomishere.
Andthere'sawomanonhisarm.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

A pretty twenty-something woman paws at Tom's shoulder. She follows his gaze to me and scowls.
Doesheknowanywomenwhotalkordoesheonlyhangoutwithsilentscowlers?

Tomnodsahello.Heintroducesus."Anna,thisismyfriendWillow."
"Nice to meet you." She stares daggers at me, then flips her long, purple-red hair over her

shoulders.ShewhisperssomethinginTom'sear.

Hechuckles."Nottoday,honey."
"Whynot?"Shedrawsacircleonhisexposedforearm."Don'tyouwantto?"
The look on her face is desperate and hungry. So she wants to fuck him. Channel Alanis

Morissetteandgodownonhim...duringthefeature.

Ishakemyhead.Hardtoblameher,butI'mnotgoingtowatchthemnegotiatewhattheyareand

aren'tdoing.

Anger dances in my stomach. So much for Tom laying off any sexual activity until he's at full

power. He might as well make her come during the film. The movie is packed with gasps and the
poundingoffleshonflesh.Itwillbehardtonoticeanyextranoise.

Mycheeksareburning."Enjoytheshow."IpushpastTomandhisfloozyofthenight.It'snotnice

thinkingsuchvilethingsaboutaperfectlyinnocentwoman,butIdon'thaveitinmetothinkanything
else.

Ibuymyticketandhideoutinthebathroom.Lightbouncesoffthewhitetilefloorsandthestark

white walls. I wash my hands for the hell of it then practice scrunching paper towels into tiny little
ballsandtossingthemintothetrashcan.

Tom's on a date. Or with a particularly grabby friend. Maybe that's why he has no sense of

boundaries—he'ssurroundedbywomenwhodon'tbothertoaskbeforetheytouch.

Notthathecrossedaline.
NotthatIwantedhimtostoptouchingme.
Iattempttopeptalkthegirlinthemirrorstaringbackatme."Putuporshutup,Wil.Goforhim

orgetoverit.Ifyouwanttheman,tellhimthisfriendsthingisn'tworkingout."

Shestaresbackatme,confusedandlost.I'mHazelAlexander'sassistantphotographer.Thisisa

damnopportunity.Nothingisgoingtoruinthatforme.CertainlynothowbadlyIwantTom.

I buy a box of chocolate covered raisins at the concession stand and make my way inside the

theater.Thelightsarestillon.There'saguyinfrontdoingtriviaforswag.T-shirtsandDVDsandall
that.

Tom's date is easy to find. Her burgundy hair matches the seats. She's pretty. Really pretty. And

curvy.Ifeelevenmorelikealittlegirlnexttoher.

Anyhintofconfidencefadesaway.Mystomachisamessofacid.Ipopahandfulofcandyinmy

mouthtochaseawaythebittertaste.Chewy,sweet,delicious.

ThegirlrunsherhandthroughTom'shair,andthebittertasteisback.
There'snowayI'llenjoyFightClubwiththisinfrontofme.IclearmythroatasIwalkpastTom

andhisdateandtakeanaisleseatthreerowsup.

ItrymyhandattriviabutIhaven'tgotacluewhatanyoftheanswersare.Oh,well.Thedie-hard

fanswillappreciatetheprizesmorethanIwould.

Theemceeannouncesfiveminutestoshowtimeandwalksoutofthetheater.
Iplayagameonmyphonetokeepmymindoccupied.Someonecomesuptomyaisleandpoints

totheseatnexttomine.

There are two-dozen empty seats here. Why pick this one? Not my issue. Maybe the guy is hot,

and I'll be the one making Tom jealous. Anything is possible. I pull my knees into my chest so the
jean-cladmancanpass.

Hetakestheseatnexttomine.Ikeepmyeyesonmyphone,doingmybesttoignorehim.There's

somethingfamiliarabouthispresence.Hesmellsgood.Hehasstronghands.Exposedforearms.And
atattooonhis—

Fuck.
That'sTom.He'ssittingnexttome,sansdate.
"Wehaddifferentideasaboutwhatwe'ddoduringtheflick."Heraiseshiseyebrowssuggestively.
"Youreallycock-blockedyourselfwiththatpiercing,didn'tyou?"
Hechuckles."Sometimesit'sfunnotgettingeverythingyouwant."
Notformeatthemoment.Islidemyphoneintomypurseanddirectmyattentiontothemovie

screen."ShouldIguesshowyourfriendwantedtospendthefeature?"

"Ifthoughtsofmegettingblowninamovietheaterpleaseyou."
Only if it's by me. The flush in my cheeks spreads to my chest. "You really have girls that

desperatetodroptotheirknees?"

Henods.
"Whynotripoffherpantiesandfingerfuckherwhenthelightsgoout?"
"Fingerfuck?"Hescrunchesuphisface."Youreallyhaven'thadsexinyears."
"Thanksforthereminder."
"Ilikethismovie.I'mnotinterestedinadistraction."
"You'dtakeFightCluboverablowjob?"
"Notinthemood."Heshrugs."Icansnapmyfingersandagetawomanonherknees."Helooks

aroundtheroom,counting."Atleastfourhere."

Idomyowncount.Thereareabouttenwomeninattendancebuthalfofthemarecuddledupwith

maledates.

"Ienvyyourconfidence,"Isay.
"Youcangetatleastfiveguysheretofuckyou."
"Isthatso?"
"Yeah, sure." He points to the twenty something glasses wearing guy sitting in the row across

fromus."HewascheckingyououtbeforeItookthisseat."

"I'msureyou'retryingtohelp—"
"Yeah.Youneedtobreakyourdryspell.Getoutofyourhead.Havesomefun.NotsayingthatMr.

PlaidShirtoverthereistherightchoice,butsomebody.Trustme.Onceyoucomeafewtimes,you'll
see...sexisnobigdeal.You'llbeattractedtoguysleftandright."

"You'reofferingtogetmelaid?"
Henods."Asyourwingman.UnlessyoupreferMiles."
No,theproblemisthatIdon'tpreferMiles.Idon'tpreferPete.Idon'tpreferMr.PlaidShirt.Hell,I

don'tevenpreferBradPittplayingTylerDurden.

Tom'selbowbumpsagainstmine.Hemotionstothearmrest."Youcanhaveit."
"I'mgoodatsharing."
"Howaboutwegooutafterthis?There'salocalbandIknowplayingalateshow.Shouldbealot

ofguysthere.Drummerseven."

"Idon'thaveathingfordrummers."
"Sureyoudo.Weplayhard,wefuckhard.We'reanimals."
MyheadfillswiththementalimageofTompoundingintotheredheaduntilshe'sscreaminghis

nameoverandoverandoveragain.

Damnphotographer'smindistooimaginative.
"Shit.Sorry.That'snothelpingyoucooldown,huh?"Hisfingersbrushagainstmine."Thiswhole

movieisshirtlessdudesgrabbingateachother.You'regonnabebeggingforitbythetimeit'sover."

"Tom,Iknowyou'retryingbut—"
"Comewithmetotheshow.Iwantyourcompany."
"As...?"
"Agoodfriend."
Great.I'mhisgoodfriend.Icanlivewiththat.Aslongashe'sdoneblowinghot."Okay."
He offers me his soda. "Anna didn't get to drinking it. She had her heart set on getting her lips

aroundsomethingelse."

Goddamn,he'scasualandconfidentwiththatinformation.
Hetakesasip,testingtheflavor."Dietcherrycoke."
Itakealongsip.Nothinglikeartificialcherryflavoring.Tasteslikecoughsyrup.LikethedaysI

stayedhomefromschoolsickwhenIwasakid,beforeMomandDadsplit,beforeMomwroteme
offthewayshewroteoffDadandDrew.

"Thankyou."Itakethesodaanddrinkgreedily.Icandosharing.IofferTommyboxofchocolate

coveredraisins.

Hetakesoneandpopsitinhismouth.Chews.Swallows.There'sthishintofchocolateonhislips.
"You'vegotalittle."Imotiontothespot."Icangetit."
"Alright."
HeblinksasIrunmyfingeroverthecornerofhismouth.Thepadbrusheshislip.Soft.I'mclose

enoughIcansmellhisbreath.Nohintofalcoholtoday.

Iwipethehintofchocolateoffhislipsandsuckitoffmyfingers.Now,I'mtheonegettingideas.

Please,brain,thinkofsomethingbesideshowTomwouldfeelinmymouth.

Iclearmythroat."How'syourhangover?"
"Greasy burger did the trick." He takes another chocolate covered raisin. "How long have you

beenavegetarian?"

"SinceIwasakid.Wewenttoapettingzoointhirdgrade.Afieldtrip,takethecitykidstothe

country kind of thing. I was enamored with this adorable goat. She had a big pink bow, just like a
stuffedanimal.Icouldn'teatmeatafterthat."

"It'scommendable,livingbyyourprinciples."
"Iguessso.It'sprettyeasyinBerkley.Idon'treallythinkaboutit."
"Yougoondates?"Heasks."Normally?"
"Everyonceinawhile."
"Howoftendoguysaskifyoueat—"Heleansinclose,loweringhisvoiceasifhe'sscandalized.

"Otherkindsofmeat?"

"Toooften."
"Whatdoyousay?"
"Thissoundslikeawaytoaskwithoutasking."
"I'mnot."Heleansbackintohisseat."Alreadyknowtheanswer."
"Howdoyouknowtheanswer?"
Tom raises his brows. "You want to look me in the eyes and tell me you haven't been thinking

aboutsuckingmeoff?"

MyGoddamnbodybuzzeslikeapowerline.
"Don'tlie.It'sunbecoming."Hetakesalongsipofthesoda."Iwon'tgiveyouahardtimeaboutit.

Got a little carried away last night. Didn't mean to tease you. I..." He runs a hand through his hair.
"Nevermind."

"Youweredrunk."
"That's no excuse." He looks me in the eyes, confident and sure of himself. "I want to do this

platonicfriendsthing.Prettysureitdoesn'tinvolveyouthinkingaboutmycockasoftenasyoudo."

"Maybeyoushouldstoptalkingaboutitthen."
Henods."Sure.You'llhavetoleadtheway.TellmeifI'mcrossingtheline.Orbeinganasshole."

Heoffershishandtoshake."Deal?"

The lights turn off and a preview flashes on screen. Okay. Two and a half hours to divert my

attraction to another hot man. Brad Pitt, I need you to step it up here. Take me back to my teenage
fantasies.

ItakeTom'shandandshake."Deal."

***

BradPittfailsme.

He'ssexyashell,allsweatyandripped.Evenbatteredandbruised,themanisonehotpieceofass.
ButhehasnothingonTom.
Nothingonthewaymybody,asTomsoaptlyputit,lightsupwhenhisfingersbrushmywristas

wewrestleoverthearmrest.OnthewaymystomachflutterswhenIgoforthesodaandgrabTom's
thighinstead.OnthetensionthatbuildsinmycorewhenTomgoesforthechocolatecoveredraisins
andgetstheedgeofmyskirt.

It'sinnocent.
Anaccident.
Nothing.
But there's no convincing my body. By the time the credits roll, I'm antsy and flushed. What

possessedmetowearaskirt?Thiswouldbemuchlesspainfulinapairofjeans.Verythickjeanswith
leggings underneath them. And a pair of long johns for extra padding between his fingers and my
skin.

Thelightsturnon."Excuseme.Ladiesroom."Ipracticallyjumpoutofmyseat.
Thebathroomisthesameclean,whiteplace.Istareatthegirlinthemirrorandtrytothinkup

anotherpeptalk.Tom'sintentionsareclear.He'strying.Platonicfriends?I'mthere.I'mcapable.I'm
notmeltingundertheweightofmydesire.

A few splashes of cool water do little to dampen the heat building inside me. At least I have a

convenientexcuse.I'mdesperatelyturnedonbyshirtlessBradPittandhismachoneedtobeatpeople
toapulp.Yes,there'snothingIadoremorethanamanwhoturnstoviolencetosoothethepaininhis
soul.

Inthelobby,Tomtalkstoanotherprettytwenty-something.Thisonehasdarkhairandanintense

expressioninhereyes.She'smorepolitethanalotofhisadmirers.Shedoesn'tpawathimorrunher
handsoverhisgorgeousexposedforearms.Shedoesn'ttracethelinesofhistattooorstareatthehint
oftautstomachbetweenthebottomofhist-shirtandthetopofhislow-riseskinnyjeans.

He spots me and says goodbye to the fan. That cues the grabbing. He smiles politely but there's

irritationinhiseyes.Hehidesitwell.BetterthanIdidworkingatthecamerashop.Thegirlpullsout
hercelltotakeaselfiewithTom.

Hemugsitupforthecamera.Butstill,shegrabsathim.
Okay.I'llcutin.IcrosstoTom,slidemyarmaroundhiswaistandlookathimwithfuckmeeyes.

"Baby,I'vebeenwaitingforyou."Iextendmyhandtothegirl."WillowWayne.Tom'sgirlfriend."

Herjawdrops."Butyoualwayssaythatthere'snosenseinlimitingyourselftoonewoman..."
"Healwayssaidalotofthings."IrunmyhandthroughTom'shairthewaytheredheaddid.

Heleansintomytouch,hislipscurlingintoanexpressionofpleasure.Realorishefakingforthe

sakeoftheannoyingfangirl?Hardtotell,butIlikehisexpression.Idragmyfingertipsthroughhis
hair,downhisneck,overhisears.

Hiseyesflutterclosed.Hepracticallypurrs.Sohisearsarethespot.Imakeamentalnote.There's

aperfectspaceforitnexttohiscockispiercedunderthingsyoushouldn'tknowaboutyourplatonic
friends.

"Yeah."Heslideshisarmaroundmywaist,playingitupforthegirls'sake."Willow'sgreat.We're

madlyinlove.Andit'sabouttimewegobacktothehotelandfuckuntilshecomessomanytimesshe
begsmetostop."

She's some mix of star struck and dumbstruck. She nods for a moment, then her eyes fill with

envy.

Tompresseshislipsagainstmyneck.Formeorforthegirl?Hardtosay.Eitherway,mybodyis

desperateforhimtocontinue.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

Thebouncerguardingthedoorgapes.

"Holyshit.TomSteele?"Heasks."Whatthefuckareyoudoingatthisdump?"
Tomshrugs."Matthew'safriendofmine."
"Shit.David'sgonnaflip.Aren'tyouplayingtomorrow?Ticketssoldoutintenminutes."
Tomsmiles."Nicetohearfromamalefanforonce."
"I'msuremostguysareintimidatedbyhowoftenyourvocalistsoundslikehe'sabouttocome,"

thebouncersays.

Tomlaughs."Miles?Yeah.Youshouldhearhimgoingatitwithhisgirlfriend.Amanhasnever

enjoyedfuckingawomanasmuchashedoes.AndheusedtogetasmuchtailasIdo."Tomshakes
hishead."Hatetoseeagoodmangodown.Thoughhisgirlfriendseemstoenjoythatparttoo."

The bouncer chuckles nervously. It's completely disarming seeing the six-foot-three, two-

hundred-fifty-poundmanstarstruck.Heunlocksthedoorandmotionsforustostepinside.

"What'syourname?"Tomasks.
"JasonBenes."
"Youworkingtomorrow?"
"Nightoff."
"I'llleaveyouaticketatwillcall."Tomleansintostagewhisper."Ifyoudomeafavor."
"Keeptheguysawayfromyourgirl?Don'tthinkanybodyisgonnamesswithTomSteele,evento

talktoagirlthatfine."

Tommakeseyecontactwithmeandraisesabrow.HeturnsbacktoJason."Willowhereisn'tmy

girl.She'safriend.Andsheneedstogetlaid.Ifyouseeanyhotguys—andI'mtalkinggradeA,six
packabs,bunsofsteel,piercingeyes—sendthemherway."

"Don'tthinkI'mgoingtobeabletopickoutpiercingeyes."Themanchuckles."ButI'lldowhatI

can."

"AnyringersforBradPitt—that'shertype."
"Arehiseyespiercing?"Jasonasks.
"They'renot,"Ijumpin."ButIdon'tneedanyhelpfindinghotguys.I'vegotithandled."
"Listentothelittleminx.Alreadytalkingaboutfondlingstrangers."Tomtsktsksinmockdisgust.

"Suchafilthymind."Heshakesthebouncer'shand."JasonBenes.Iwon'tforget."

Jasonlaughs,stilltotallystarstruck.
Thedoorswingsclosedbehindus.
It'sanintimateplace.Roomforahundredpeopleonabusynight.Thisisnotabusynight.There

areafewdozenpeoplehere,mostofthemtalkinginsteadofpayingattentiontotheguysonstage.It's
notthatthebandisbad.They'rejustnotparticularlyremarkable.

Thesingertries.He'snotgreat,andhislyricsareinane,buthe'strying.Notsomuchtheguyson

strings. They look at the ground or at each other or, worse yet, at the drummer. Said drummer is
committedtohisplaying,thrashingaroundwithhislonghairswayingleftandright.He'sloud.It'sall
veryloud.

"Shit.ThoughtMatthewwasbetterthanthis."Tommotionstothestage."Lookatthat."
"WhichoneisMatthew?"Iask.
"Guitarist."Tompointstothemanwithpurplehair."He'sgothisfuckingbacktotheaudience."
"Howdoyouknowhim?"
"Played in a band together way back when." Tom chuckles. "I was that kid in high school who

started a new band every year. Only nobody ever took it as seriously as I did. Matthew was in the

fourth or fifth band. Only he thought he could sing. As you can see from the man's stage presence,
thatwasanightmare."

Asifoncue,Matthewturnsbacktotheaudience.Tomwaves,andtheman'sjawdrops.Hestops

playingforasolidtwentyseconds.Theotherguysinthebandlookaroundconfusedbuttheycarry
on.

"Fuck, that must have been eight, nine years ago." Tom runs a hand through his hair. "He's not

tryingveryhard."

"Maybehehadotherpriorities."
"Yeah.Everyonedoes.Evenbackthen.IlivedinanicepartofOrangeCounty."
"Really?" There's something about Tom that seems rawer than image conscious Southern

California. Especially given the way he reacted when I said he seemed like he belonged in Los
Angeles.

Henods."WheredoyouthinkIlearnedthepowerofvanity?"
"You'renotvain."
"Notasvainassomepeople."Hebrushesapink-tippedbangfrommyface."Wecan'tallspend

hundredsonourhaircuts."

Istickmytongueoutathim.
He laughs. "Back then, everyone had an eye on college. First band, the guitarist dropped out

becausehewasfailingSpanish.Thesecond,wepracticedallsummer,buteverybodyquitassoonas
schoolrolledaround.MusthavegonethroughfiveorsixbandsbeforeImetMiles."

"I'veneverheardtheSinfulSerenadeoriginstory."
"Always figured you weren't interested. Since you never came to shows. Even when we were

playingalloverSanFrancisco."Tom'sgazegoesbacktotheband."Drewtalksaboutyoualot."

"Hedoesnot."
"YouhavetojudgeitbyDrewstandards.Anythingthatisn'tanargumentabouthowI'masellout

fortryingtogetourmusicintosomeTVshowisalot."

"You'retheonewhodoeslicensingdeals?"
Henods."Ourmanagerisafuckingasshole.Hadanissuewithhimawhileback.Couldn'tgethim

firedsoItookover."

"Oneofyoursongsisonasodacommercial."
"Fuck,yesitis.Youhaveanycluehowmuchthatendorsementpaid?"
Ishakemyhead.
"Let'sjustsayI'veneverseenanyonethatmiserabletomakeamilliondollars."
"Eachofyouortheband?"
"Geez,Willow.Sogreedy.Twohundredfiftythousandisn'tenoughforyou?I'llhaveyouknow

thatI'mworthsevenfigures."

Iactuallygasp.Sevenfigures?That'sfuckyoumoney.Whyisn'tDrewrubbingthatinMom'sface

24/7?

"Miles and Drew—they don't know what it's like to go hungry, to wonder if you're gonna get

evicted,toworksixmonthssavingeverypennysoyoucanbuyabetterdrumkit.Idon'thavetotell
youthatDrew'sfamily,yourfamilyiswelloff."

"Moneydoesn'tbuyhappiness."
"Don'thavetotellmethat,kid.I'mtheoneworthsevenfigures."
"Youliketobrag,don'tyou?"
Henods."I'mincorrigible."
"Very."
"BigwordforaguywithaGED."

There'ssomethingaboutthewayTomsaysit.Likehewantsmetoaskaboutit.Likehe'sdesperate

for someone to ask about it, to show interest in Tom Steele, human being, and not Tom Steele,
famousdrummer.

Imovecloser."Youdroppedoutofhighschool?"
Henods."Hadtodealwithsomeshit,missedsomeschool.Itwaseasiertostudyforthetestthan

goback."Hisposturestiffens.

Iconsideraskingwhatitwashehadtodealwith,butthemoodisstilllight,andIwanttokeepit

thatway.InudgeTom."Youstillhaven'ttoldmehowthebandstarted."

"Started with Pete. He must have been twelve or thirteen when Mom fostered him. The kid had

nothingbutthisbeatupbassguitar.Itwastheonlythingintheworldhecaredabout.Hisdad,before
hedied,wasajazzmusician.That'showhepickeditup."

"Howdidyoupickupdrums?"
"One of my foster parents had a drum kit in the garage. Played on the weekends in some KISS

coverband.Ineededsomethingtodo.Atfirst,Ilikedmakingenoughnoisetopisseverybodyoff.But
thedrumsarethesoulofthesong.Theycarrytherhythm.It'stheoneplacewhereI'mincontrolof
shit,wheretheworldmakessense."Tomgetsafarofflookinhiseyes."Alotofpeoplethinkbassis
alesscoolguitar,butit'sreallypartoftherhythm.MeandPetecreatethattogether.Itwasthefirst
wayweeverconnected.Iknowitsoundshokey—"

"That'showIfeelaboutphotography.TheworldmakessensewhenI'mbehindthecamera.Isee

thingsIdon'tnormallysee."

"ThestuffyoushootwithHazelorsomethingelse?"
"Ilovedoingportraits,anykind.Eventhesexyoneswewereshootinginyourhotelroom."
Tomlooksmeintheeyes."You'regood.Youshouldgoafterthatwhenyou'refinishedworking

withHazel."

"Maybe.Idon'tknow.Iwantto,but—"
"Butwhat?"
"I'm not really good with people. Being a photographer is all about dealing with clients. It's

intimidating."Iclearmythroat."Itseemseasyforyou."

"It'saskill.Youcanlearnhowtoworkwithpeople.Justtakespractice."
He'sreallylistening,butIdon'twanttotalkaboutmyself.Iwanttohearabouthim.Iwanttoknow

everythingthereistoknowaboutTom."Youhadtherhythmfiguredout.Then..."

"Soimpatient."Hesmiles,teasing.
Again,Istickmytongueoutathim.
"Youkeepdoingthat,I'llgetideasaboutbetterusesforyourtongue."
"Doyouevergetideasthataren'taboutsex?"
"My secret." He nudges me with his shoulder. His gaze goes back to the stage. "Guess someone

hastoentertainyou."Heshiftsbackintohisstory."MilesandIwereinthesameschoolforayearor
two.Iwassleepingwithagirlhewasdating.Iguessshewastwo-timingbothofus.Don'tthinkeither
ofuscaredmuchabouther,buthonordemandedweletourfistssettlethings."

"Couldjustletthegirldecide."
"Wasn'taboutthegirl,"Tomsays."Itwasaboutbeingtheman."
"Butwhatdoesfightingprove?"
"Stilldon'tknow.Seemedliketheonlysolutionatthetime."
"Yougetintoalotoffights?"Iask.
"Not anymore. But back then? Got into a fight every other day. Miles too. We beat each other

pretty bloody before the principal broke it up. The next day, Miles comes by to say he dumped the
girl, but I fight pretty good. He'd heard I was in a band. He'd written some songs. Acoustic stuff.

Mostlyabouthowhisdadwasapieceofshit.Wantedtoputabandtogether.Forawhileitwasjust
me,him,andPete.ThenMilesmoveuptoMalibu,andwefelloutoftouch.Ihadalotofshittodeal
with."Hiseyescloud.

Iswallowhard.Thesameshithereferredtobefore,nodoubt.Iconsideraskingaboutitbutthere's

somethingabouthisexpressionthattellsmehe'snotinthemoodtoretracethosememories."How
didyouguysgetbacktogether?"

"It's quite the anti-climactic story. Miles poured all the pain in his heart into his guitar and his

singing,onlyhecouldn'tplayguitarthatwell."

"Youreallythrowdowntheinsults."
"Truthhurtssometimes."Tomlaughs."Hebrokehishandstoomanytimes.Lostalotofdexterity.

Guessyou'llhavetoaskMegifhe'sbackuptofullstrength.Fromthesoundofthings,I'mguessing
he'sprettydamnnimble."

"Youreallylistentothemfucking?"
"Don'twantto.Especiallythelastfewweeks.Thinkhe'sdoingittotortureme.Sheactsallshy,but

thesecondhestartstouchingher,she'sDTFanytime,anyplace.Youshouldhaveseenhimwhenhe
wassingle.Girlsgoapeshitforthoseprettyblueeyesofhis."Tomshakeshishead."Thewayhetells
it,hewashangingoutinsomegirl'sdormroomandheheardthisguykillingitonacousticguitara
fewdoorsdown.NotplayingfuckingWonderwalltogetinagirl'spants,butplayingthiscrazyCarlos
Santanalevelshit."

"AndthatwasDrew?"
"Bingo. Usually, when I tell the story, I throw in a threesome and a fight over the girl." Tom

smiles."Gottakeeppeople'sinterestup."

"Whoishavingthethreesome?"
"MilesandDrew,ofcourse."
Icringe.NotamentalimageIneed.
Tomlaughs."Don'tworry.PrettysureDrewisincapableofsharing."
"Pleasestop."
"Butyou'recutewhenyourcheeksmatchyourhair."Hebrushesastrayhairbehindmyear.
Andthereitis.Myheartbeatpicksup.Heatspreadsfrommycheektomychesttojustbelowmy

belly.Tomistouchingme.Ineedhimtouchingmemore.Ineedhimtouchingmeallthetime.

Iclearmythroat.We'refriends.Icandothat.Withthehelpofadistraction."MilesfoundDrew.

Then?"

"Yousureyoudon'twanttohearmespeculateabitmoreaboutDrew'ssexlife?"
"Positive."
Tomsmiles,soakinginmydiscomfort."Ihaveafewmorethingstoadd.Reallygraphicdetails."
"Pleasedon't."
He smiles but shifts back to his story. "Miles called me from a show. Drew was in this band.

DangerousNoise.Andhetoldmetogetthefuckuptothebay.Heknewwe'dbeamilliontimesbetter
thanDangerousNoiseorthananyofthehalf-assedbandsIwasinatthemoment."

"IsDrewreallythatgood?"
"Yeah.Giveshimlotsoflatitudetomakemylifedifficult."
Mybrother,thediva.Icanseeit.He'salwaysbeenreallyinsistentaboutdoingthingshiswayor

notatall."Isheevermoretroublethanhe'sworth?"

"Occasionally.Inthepre-Karadays,allthetime.Don'thavetotellyouthathe'suptight."
Inod.UptightisaDentonfamilytradition.
"Mostly,hejust...hedoesn'tknowwhatit'sliketogowithout.PeteandI..."Hisexpressionhardens.

I'mnotsurewhathe'sgoingthrough,whathe'sthinking,butIhavetodosomethingtocomfort

him.Ioffermyhand.

Hetakesitwithoutlookingandsqueezes."Haven'tgonehungryinalongtime,andI'mnotkeen

onrememberinghowmuchitfuckingsucks.Fameisn'tforever.Gottacapitalizeonitnow."Helooks
atme."Youwanttocallmeasellouttoo?"

"DependsonwhetheryouwereshillingforCokeorPepsi."
Helaughs."Ilikeyou,kid."
Ipullmyhandaway."Ilikeyoutoo."Toomuch.Butthatisn'twhatwe'redoing."It'sbeenawhile

sinceI'vehadaguyfriend.I'vemostlyavoidedbeingalonewithguyssincemyex."

"Thatwouldmakeithardtogetlaid."
"Ihaven'ttried."
"Of course not." He looks me up and down. "If you applied yourself, you'd be taking home a

differentguyeverynight.Withallduerespectandplatonicintention,you'resmokinghot."

"I'mnotsmokinghot."
"Fishingforcomplimentsisjustasunbecomingaslying."
"I'mnotfishing.I'mpretty.Cuteeven.ButI'mnothot.Myshouldersaretoobroad—"
"Yourshouldersarehot."
"Myboobsaretoosmall."
Hisgazegoesstraighttomychest."Inthatgetup,sure."Hereachesforthezipperofmyhoodie.

"Youmind?"

"No,it'sfine."
He unzips slowly, slides the hoodie off my shoulders. His fingertips linger on the backs of my

hands.Thenthey'regoneandhe'styingthehoodiearoundhischestlikesomepreppykidonhisway
toSATclasses.

"Youlookridiculous,"Isay.
"GottatonedownmysexappealifI'mgonnabeyourwingman.Don'twantguystofeellikethey

can'tcomplete."

Theycan't.AndjudgingbytheconfidentsmileonTom'sface,I'mprettysureheknowsit.
Hebringshishandstothebottomofmytanktop.Helooksdownatmeasiftoaskokay?I nod

sureandheadjuststhetopformaximumcleavagepotential.

Hestaresatmychest."Small,maybe,butverynice."Hisfingertipsbrushagainstmytattoo."And

thisisfuckingsexy."

Mycheeksflush.Sense.Ineedtoregainit."I'mnotsayingI'munattractive.Justnothot.I'mcute.

Likeyourfriend'slittlesister."

"Youaremyfriend'slittlesister."
"YouknowwhatImean."
Tom'seyesgotomychest."Smallerbreastsaremoreresponsive."
I'm tempted to ask how he knows this, but the answer is probably experience with hundreds of

pairsofbreasts.That'shundredsofmentalimagesIcandowithout.

"You'rejudgingagain."
"I'mnot."
"It'sscience.Allwomenhavethesameamountofnerves,giveortake.Thesmallerthebreast,the

moreconcentratedthenerves."

"Educational."
"Plusyouhavenicetits."
Mycheeksflush."Howdoyouknow?"
"Thatseethroughtanktopyouwerewearingtotortureme.Workedyouknow.Iwasfucking—"

"Thinkyou'recrossingtheline."
"See."Hetakesastepbackwards."Lookhowgoodweareatthisplatonicfriendshipthing."
Thebandfinishestheirsetwithabow.
Tompointsmetoabrownhairedmaninaleatherjacket."Whatabouthim?"
"He'sfine."
"Fine?He'sbetterthanfine.He'sgotalipring."
"And?"
"Tryit.You'lllikeit."Tomnudgesmetowardstheman.
"Idon'tthinkso."
Heshakeshishead."Okay.We'lldothistogether."
TomtakesmyhandandleadsmetoMr.LipRingandhisfriendPoloShirt.
"Hey."Tompresentsme."Haveyoumetmyfriend,Willow?"
Mr.LipRingandPoloShirtlookatmeforahotsecond.ButI'mnotwhatintereststhem.Tomis.

Theystareathimwithdisbelief.

"Holyshit,TomSteele.You'realegend."Mr.LipRinggrabshiscellphoneandthrowshisarm

aroundTom."Youmind?"

Tomcatcheshimselfinaneye-roll."Yeah.Sure."Despitetheirritationinhisvoice,heentertains

their picture fest for a solid sixty seconds. He turns back to me. "Willow, here. She's looking for a
goodtime.Eitherofyouwanttotakeherhome?"

SubtletyisnotoneofTom'sstrengths.Mycheeksareburning.Istepbackwards.
"Yousoundlikeafuckingpimp,"Imutter.
"Toomuch?"Helooksattheguys."Whatdoyouguysthink?Toomuch?"
Theylaughnervously,utterlystarstruck.
"Notatall,"onesays.
"You'reamazing."Theotherturnsred.
Atleasthe'sasembarrassedasIam.Ibackawayslowlyandturnmyattentiontothestage.Much

to my chagrin, there's a roadie breaking down the instruments. No sign another band is set to
perform.

Tomtakesmyhand."Let'sgobackstage."
Thenervousguysofferadozendifferentgoodbyes.
"Ithinktheywouldhavepreferredtotakeyouhome,"Isay.
"Canyoublamethem?"
Notintheleast.

***

Thebackstageareaisthesizeofawalkincloset.There'sacouchononewall,atableofboozeonthe
other.Adozenpeoplemillaround,includingthepurple-hairedMatthew.HewavesTomovertothe
couch.

"Wherethefuckhaveyoubeenthelastfewyears?"Matthewasks.
"Worlddomination."Tomleansoverandwhisperssomething.
ImakeeyecontactwithMatthew."Pleasetellmehe'snottryingtosellyouonfuckingme."
Helaughs."Tom,I'mgay."
"Shit.Sincewhen?"Tomasks.
"Sincealways.WheredidyouthinkmeandTrentwentofftooafterpractice?"
"Trenttoo?Fuck.Nowonderhewantedtogotothebeachallsummer.Probablygettinghisjollies

checking me out in my speedo." Tom nudges his friend. "You had illicit thoughts about me, didn't

you?"

Matthewblushes.
Iloseinterestintheirbanter.It'salotmorefunpicturingTominaspeedo.Theweatherissetto

gethotashell.He'sthetypeofguywho'sgameforanything.I'msureIcanconvincehimtogetina
poolatsomehotel.Maybeeventoskinnydip.

"Hey,kid."Tomnudgesme."Ifyou'regonnathinkdirtythoughts,thinkthemaboutsomehottie.

There'splentyofhottieshere."HelookstoMatthewforconfirmation.

Matthewnods.Hemotionstoashorthairedguyinasweatervest."Heardhe'sontherebound."
"There.Go."TomnudgesmetowardsSweaterVest."NoworI'llhavetogetinvolved."
Please,no.TomistryingtobehelpfulbutIdonotwanthiminvolved."Okay.Fine."Itwon'tkill

metohaveaconversationwiththeguy.He'swearingasweatervest.He'sgottobeharmless.

Ibumpintohimasifbyaccident."Oh,sorry."
"Noproblem,"hemurmurs.
Hispostureshiftsasheturnstome.Hetakeshistimecheckingmeoutthenmovescloser.
He'sinterested.
He'sinterested,andhe'scute.
Whywon'tmybodyrespondtothat?
"I'mWillow,"Isay.
Helooksdownatme,checkingmeout."Youwiththeband?"
"Justafriend."ItakealonglookatSweaterVest.Mybodyrefusestofindhimattractive.Ohwell.

Nosenseinbeingrudetotheguy."You?"

"Friend of a friend." He looks down my tank top. "You need a ride home or anything? My

roommateisoutoftownthisweekend."

Okay.SweaterVestdoesn'twasteanytime.Bettertogetthisoverwithbeforehegetsthewrong

idea."Nothankyou.Icamewithsomeone."

I glance at Tom. He's watching intently, but the expression on his face is unreadable. When our

gazesmeet,henodsgobutIcan'tbringmyselftotakethesuggestion.

Mybodyrefusestocooperate.ItscreamsatmeIaskforTomandyougivemethis?Areyoueven

trying?

Forgetit.Inodtothecouch."Nicetomeetyou.Excuseme."IshiftpastSweaterVestandtakea

seat.Thisflirtingthingisoverrated.I'llhavetofindsomeotherwaytogetoverTom.

SweaterVestplopsnexttome.Hisarmfindsitswayaroundmyshoulder.Tomisstillwatching.

Notproud.Notexcitedbymyprogress.But...

No.
He'sjealous.
ThedevilonmyshoulderurgesmetouseSweaterVest'sinteresttomyadvantage.Agirlhasto

takewhatshewants.MakeTomjealous.What'stheharm?Thisguyisthinkingofyouasapieceofass.
Hedoesn'tgiveafuckaboutyou.

SweaterVestshiftscloser.
Heleansintowhisperinmyear."I'dliketokissyou."
Mystomachclenches.Nosignmybodyisinterestedinhis."Maybelater."
"Howaboutnow?"
Tomisstaring,glaringeven.
Makehimjealous.Worst-casescenario,youhaveabadkiss.It'spossibleSweaterVestisagreat

kisser.Thatyourbodyreallywillwanthis.Youshouldgivehimashot.

Ilookbackathim."Justapeck,okay?"
Henods."Sure."

Myeyesclose.Bam.Hislipspressagainstmine.Nothing.Notevenawhisperofelectricity.
That's a peck. I pull back but Sweater Vest isn't relenting. He squeezes my shoulders. Then one

handshiftstomychest.

Igonumb.Thisishowitstarts.Sometimesit'sjustakiss.Justatouch.Butsometimesit'smore.

Worse.Sometimesitdoesn'tstop.

Myhands.Wherearethey?Iwigglemyfingers.There.That'ssomething.Ittakesforevertofind

themovementinmyarmsbutIgetit.Ipushhimgently.

Nothing.
Ipushhard.
Hebacksoff,hisexpressionirritated.
And then there are hands around his collar. The weight shifts as he's pulled off the couch. By

someone.

ByTom.
Tomthrowstheguyagainstthewallsoharditshakes."Whatthefuckwasthat,asshole?"
"Nothing."
"GetoutofherebeforeImakeyouregretthat."
TheguystaresbackatTom."Iwasn'tdoinganythingwrong."
"Youhavethreesecondsleft."
Theguydoesn'tmove.
"Two."
Nothing.
"One."

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Tomdoesn'thitSweaterVest.Notyet.HestaresuntilSweaterVestiscowering.

"Shesaidshewantedtokissme.HowamIsupposedtoknowshe'satease?"SweaterVestlooksat

thefloor.

Wrongthingtosay.
Tom pulls the guy closer and slams him against the wall again. For good measure I guess. My

mindraces,urgingmetojumpin,tostopthis,butmybodyrefusestomove.Itrytotalkmyselfdown.
Thisisn'tDrewandBradley.Tomisstronger,bigger,infinitelymoretenacious.SweaterVestdoesn't
haveachance.

Thatdoesn'tstopfearfromseizingmythroat.Iopenmymouthtosaylet'sgetoutofhere,now.

Letsomeoneelsedealwiththisasshole.Nothingcomes.Airwillbarelymakeintooroutofmylungs.
Wordsarealostcause.

"Atease?That'sthebestfuckingexcuseyoucancomeupwith?"
"Shewasintoit."
"I'mgonnaenjoymakingyoubleed."Tompullshisarmback,readytopunchtheguy.
"Ididn'tknowshewasyourgirl."
"You'renothelpingyourcase,asshole."
There'sathudasTom'sfistmakescontactwiththeguy'sface.Theroomgoessilent.Mythoughts

gosilent.TheonlythingIcanhearismyheartpoundingatthespeedoflight.Tomisgoingtokill
thatguy,andthenhe'llgetarrestedandgotojail.Ican'tlivewiththat.

Mymouthrefusestocooperate.Okay.Talkischeap.Actionisbetter.Let'sdothis,legs.Juststand

upandwalkoutofhere.

Nothing.
I'mfrozen.
Mystomachclencheswithfear.Myeyelidspresstogether.Ican'twatch.
Thud.Anotherhit.Horriblementalimagesfillmybrain.Bloodandbruisesandbrokenbones.I

forcemyselftoopenmyeyes.

Tomhastheguypinnedtothewallwithonehand.Theotheriscurledintoafist.He'slookingat

me,studyingme.

Hemakeseyecontact."Youokay,kid?"
Iopenmymouthtorespond.Thesoundthatcomesoutisinnowaycomprehensible.
TomlooksbacktoSweaterVest."You'reluckyIcaremoreaboutherasmuchasIdo."Hegrabs

SweaterVestbythecollarandtosseshimtotheground.

Theassholefallswithaheavythud.
Everysingleounceofattentionintheroomisonus.ThecrowdpartsasTomstepstowardsme.

Heleansdownandscoopsmeintohisarmsthennodstohispurple-hairedfriend.Theyshareoneof
thoseno,youkickhisassguylooksofunderstanding.

God,I'mbeingcarriedoutofaroomlikeadamselindistressinacheesyB-movie.Ican'tbring

myselftofeelembarrassed.IslidemyarmsaroundTom'sneck,clingingtohim,pressingmyeyelids
together.

Hisheartbeatissteady.Hismusclesflexagainstmyback,cradlingme.He'sstrong.I'mgoingto

beokay.AslongasTomishere,I'mgoingtobeokay.

Adooropens,andcoolairrushesaroundus.Thepitter-patteroftherainfillsmyears.Something

goesaroundmyshoulders.Myhoodie.MyfeetmakecontactwiththegroundasTomsetsmedown.

Heleansmeagainstthewallandpresseshisbodyintomine,holdingmeinplace.There'ssomething
comfortingabouttheweightofhisbody,likeaheavyblanketwarmingmeonacoldnight.

Herunshisfingersthroughmyhair.Overmycheek.Myguardisdown.I'mdefenseless.
Hestaresintomyeyeswithanintenseexpression."Areyouokay?"
Ican'tpretendI'mokay.Thatthisisevenclosetookay.Ishakemyhead.
"Youwanttogohomeoryouwantmetobeatthatguybloody?"
"Home.Pleasedon'thitanyone."
Surprise spreads over his face. "You sure? Guy needs to learn his fucking lesson, or he'll do it

again."

Ishakemyhead."Idon'twantsomethingtohappentoyou."
"Icanknockthatguyunconsciousbeforehegetsonepunchin."
"Butifsomeonecallsthepolice..."Istarebackintohiseyes."Youcouldgetarrested.Convicted.

Thatwillfuckupyourlife.Yourtour.Yourreputation."

"Idon'tcareaboutthat."
Hisvoiceisearnest.Hereallywantstokicktheguy'sass.Butformeorforsomemachoneedto

provehimself?

Hisbreathiswarmagainstmyneck.Hisfingertipsaresoftagainstmychin.
Mylegsshake.Iwrapmyarmsaroundhimforbalancebutitisn'tnecessary.Hekeepsmepinned

tothewall.

Anyoneelse,I'dbeterrified.ButwithTom,Iknowhe'lltakecareofme.Iknowhe'llprotectme.
Tom's expression softens. He slides his hand to my waist. "Come on, kid. I'm a lot more

concernedwithgettingyouhomethanwithteachingthatlittleassholealesson."

"Matthewcandoitforyou,"Ioffer.
"Yeah."Heholdsmybodyagainsthis."Butonlyifyouwanthimto."
"Noviolenceonmyaccount."
Henods."Youokaytowalk?"
"Yeah."Stillshakingbutmylegsarefinallyreadytocooperate.
Tomleadsmetothestreet.Hehailsacab,helpsmeintothebackseat,andgivesouraddresstothe

driver.

Hepullsthesafetybeltovermywaist."You'redoingabangupjobhelpingwithmybadboyrep."
"Thankgoodness."
"Youreallycommittoyourwork."
"Itry."
"Anyonecantry.Youaccomplishshit."
Mylaugheasessomeofthetensioninmyback.
Tomslideshishandundermychin.Henudgesmegently.
Ilookupathim.Hisgreeneyesarefilledwithconcern.Theintensityofittakesmybreathaway.
Inhale.Exhale.There.I'vegotit,moreorless.
Tomleanscloser."Yourex,hehityou?"
Idon'thaveitinmetodenyit.No.That'snotit.IwanttosharethispartofmyselfwithTom."Not

at first. At first, he was sweet with a bad temper. He'd blow up over the littlest things, but he wasn't
violent." I swallow hard. "Then one day... he was. We'd been together about six months when he
slappedme.Wehadbeenfighting.I'dsaidawfulthings.Ithoughtitwasmyfault."

Tomwrapshisarmaroundme.
"He apologized. I told myself he meant it. The next time it was worse. But his apology was

sweeter.Flowers,chocolates,cryinguntilItoldhimIforgavehim.Ireallythoughtthathelovedme,

thathejustgotalittlecarriedawaysometimes.EvenwhenitwassobadIwasshowinguptoswim
practicebruisedenoughthecoachcalledmyparents."

"Whatdidtheydo?"
"Nothing. At first. Eventually they decided to let someone else deal with it, and they sent me to

boardingschool."

"Willow..."Tom'sexpressiondarkens."Didherapeyou?"
Myheartthudsagainstmychest."Onlyonce.Inthebeginning,firsteightorninemonths,Isaid

yes.Iwasn'tquiteready,butIwantedtomakehimhappy.Afterawhile,Icouldn'ttakehowemptyit
mademefeel,andItoldhimIdidn'twanttohavesexanymore."

"Andafterthat?"
Itakeadeepbreath.I'vetoldpeoplewhathappenedbutonlyinvagueterms.Neverinthismuch

detail.NevertheuglypartsthatshowoffhowweakIwastotakehimbackagainandagain.

"I guess... back then I still thought that love could be that ugly. That it could include calling

someone a cunt or a bastard until they were crying. My parents were vicious with each other. Our
place was nice by San Francisco standards, but it was small enough that I could hear every insult,
everysob.Bradley,myex...atfirstheseemedsafe.Hewasolder,acollegefootballplayer.Evenafter
hestartedtolosehistemper...healwaystriedsohardtoapologize,toprovehelovedme.IguessI
wantedtobelieveinlove.Thatsomeonelovedme."

IleanintoTom.Hestillfeelsgood,safe.There'snowayIcanbejustfriendswithhim.There'sno

wayIcandoanythingbutfallinlovewithhim.

"Weweretogetherforsuchalongtime.Itgotallmixedup.Ireallybelievedthathelovedme,that

heonlyhurtmebecausehelostcontrol.Thingswerebadwithmyparents.Ididn'thaveanyonetotalk
to. Drew thought they couldn't get divorced fast enough. But I couldn't stand the idea of our family
beingtornapart.Itfeelsstupidnow—"

Tompresseshischeekagainstmyneck."Everybodywantstheirfamilytogether."
"I'msureyouwentthroughworsethanIdid."
"It'snotacompetition."
"Youcantalkaboutitifyouwant."Iplaywithmyskirt."I'maprettygoodlistener."
"Anothertime."
"Iwanttoknowyou,Tom.Allthatpainthatyoupretendyoudon'tfeel."
"Notrightnow,kid.Iwanttohearthis."
Inod."Thenightthatithappened...Thatherapedme...Itwasrightaftermyparentsannouncedthe

divorce. They got into this horrible fight and they kept going at it. I snuck out sometime after
midnight.Ihadtobesomewhereelse."

"Howoldwereyou?"
"Fifteen."
"Jesus."Hisexpressiondarkensbuthesaysnothing.
"Bradleywasinabadmood.Drunk.Likenormal,buthedidn'tstopatnormal.Hedidn'tstopwhen

I said no." My fingers brush his palm. "I didn't fight back. He was bigger than I was. There was no
pointinstruggling.Intryingtoleavebeforehewasasleeporpassedout."

Tomsqueezesmyhand.
"Drewshowedupsometimethatnight.Idon'trememberexactlyhowitwent,justthathetookme

home,madesureIwassafe,andlefttosettlethescore.IwassureBradleywasgoingtokillhim.Or
thathe'dendupinjail.Icriedsohardmythroatclosed."Itakeadeepbreath."Hecamehomebruised
andbloody.Hishandwasbroken.Thedoctortoldhimhemightneverbeabletoplayguitarthesame
way.Ifhelostthat...Iwouldneverhaveforgivenmyself."

"Doyouparentsknowwhathappened?"

"Bits and pieces. I filed for a restraining order. A few months later, mom sent me to boarding

school.I'mnotsureifitwasbecauseshewassickofmelyingorbecauseshewasworriedaboutmy
safety.Itdidn'tmatter.Itwasbetterthanseeingthemfightallthetime."

"Thatmusthavebrokeyourheart."
Inod.
Tomrunshishandthroughmyhair."I'msorryyouwentthroughthat."
"Thanks."
He looks out the window. His expression hardens. "I doubt it's what you want to hear at the

moment,butifanyoneeverhurtsyoulikethatagain,I'llkillhim."

I shouldn't want to hear it. But I do. I want Tom protecting me. I want Tom in every way it's

possibletowantaperson.

Theridepassesinsilence.Justourbreathandthequiethumofthecar'shybridmotor.Whenwe

get to the hotel, Tom pays the driver and helps me out of the cab. He slides his arm under my
shoulders,holdingmeupright.

Tomtakesover,leadingmetotheelevator,punchingthebuttonfortheproperfloor,fishingmy

keyoutofmypurseandopeningthedoor.

It's hard to navigate the room in the dark. It's already a mess—clothes and suitcases spread out

overthefloor,photoequipmentalloverthetable.

Tom helps me to the bathroom then steps back. He stares at me, his expression filled with

uncertainty.

Igrabmytoothbrushandsqueezealittlepasteonit.It'slate.I'mreadytocollapseinbedbutnot

alone.

Iturnbacktohim."Willyoustaywithmetonight?"
Hethinksitoverforaminute."You'vegottwoqueens.Icanstayintheother."
"No."Ibitemylip."Willyousleepwithme?Notsex.Butinmybed.Holdingme.Igetnightmares

sometimes.Aftertonight...Idon'twanttowakeupalone."

Herunsahandthroughhishair.Hiseyesgototheground."Idon'tknowifthat'sagoodidea.I

don'treallydothat."

"Youdon'tholdpeople?"
Heshakeshishead.
"Youneverwantthatkindofcomfort?"
"Anorgasmismorethanenough."Hisexpressionisconfused.
Doeshereallymeanthat?
Ican'ttell.Iwantthatcomfort,butnotifit'sgoingtomakehimfeelasshittyasIdo."It'sokayif

youdon'twanttoholdme.Iunderstandthatit'snotanormalrequest."Iturnbacktothemirrorand
gettobrushingmyteeth.It'sstrange,himstandingbehindmeasIgetreadyforbed.Intimate.

Tomgoestothedoor.Thedeadboltclicks.Locked.Thenhe'sback,behindme.
"Iwantto,"hesays."Youhaveanextratoothbrush?"
Ishakemyhead,spit,andofferhimmytoothbrush."Youcanusemine."
"Iusuallysleepnaked."
Somybodycanstillfeeldesire.Ahellofalotofdesire.Enoughtopushawayeverythingelse.
"Boxersokaywithyou?"heasks.
"Nakedisokaywithme."
"Nicetry."
There'saheavinesstoTom'ssmile.Thiswholenightisheavy.Imissoureasyconversation,the

wayhemakesmefeellightandfree.Nooneelsehasevermademefeellikethat,likeIcouldfloat.

Iwashmyface,changeintomypajamas,andwaitonthebed.

Tomtakeshisturninthebathroom.Hestepsintothemainroomandstrips.Oncehe'sdowntohis

boxers,heslidesintobedandlayshisbodybehindmine.

He'sawkward,stiff.Hereallydoesn'tdothis.
Ipressmybackagainsthischest,myassagainsthiscrotch.HiscockstirsbutIknowbetterthanto

readintothat.

Hefeelsgood.Hard.Safe.Strong.
Afterafewminutes,Tomrelaxesenoughtopullmecloser.
"Ishouldn'thavepushedyouthathard,"hewhispers."Thiswouldn'thavehappened—"
"Youwanttoknowthetruth?"
"Yeah."
"I only let him kiss me because I wanted to make you jealous." I press my eyelids together. "I

reallylikeyou,Tom.Butifyouonlywanttobefriends,Iunderstand.I'dratherbeyourfriendthan
nothingatall."

"You'reasweetkid."
"I'mnot."
"Yeah,youare.Ifourroleswerereversed,Iwouldhaveaskedyoutokillthatguy."
"WouldyoureallykillhimifIasked?"
"Maybenotkill,butI'dgetprettyclose."Heexhalesslowly."Why?Youwantmeto?"
"No.Violenceonlybegetsviolence."
"SeewhatImean?"
"You'reagoodguy,Tom."
"We'llhavetoagreetodisagreeonthatpoint."
Ishakemyhead.
Herunshishandthroughmyhair."Trytosleep.Wecantalkinthemorning."
I still can't relax. My thoughts are racing. My shoulders and neck are tense. Hell, I'm tense

everywhere.

Keepingthisupisimpossible.Givinghimupisworse.
WhatthehellamIgoingtodo?
Itakedeepbreaths,willingtheanswertofloatintomybrain.
Itdoesn't.
Ishiftclosertohim."Areyouup?"
Herunshisfingertipsovermyshoulders."Yeah."
Iturnaround,bringingusfacetoface.Eventhoughit'sdark,Icanseeallthisaffectioninhiseyes.

Howdeepdoesitgo?

Friends?
Ormorethanthat?
Tomrubsmyshoulder."You'retense."
Inod.
Helooksmeintheeyes,studyingme.
Ireachforhim,runmyfingersoverhischeek.Wordsformanddissolveonmytongue.There's

noeasywaytoexplainmyfeelings,soIsaynothing.

"Closeyoureyes,"hewhispers.
Ido.
He drags his hand down my neck and shoulders. I gasp. A groan of pleasure escapes my lips. I

needTom'sfingersonmyskin,erasingthememoriesofanyoneelsetouchingme.

Heletsoutadeepsigh.Thegoodkindofsigh.Hewantstodothis.Needstodoit.

Hedragshisfingersovermychest,overthenecklineofmytanktop.Thenunderit.Justbarely.

Thelightnessofhistouchsendsshockwavestomycore.

Alltheuglypartsofthedayfade.Mybodytakesover.Itdoesn'tcareabouttomorrow.Itdoesn't

careaboutdefiningourrelationship.Itonlycaresaboutonething:Tom'shandsonmyskin.

Idigmyfingersintohisbaretorso,soakinginthefeelingofhishardmuscles."Please."
Hepresseshisforeheadagainstmineasiftosayyes.
Hisfingersbrushagainstmynipple.Igasp,archingmybackandsqueezingmytoestocontainthe

desirethatspreadsthroughme.

Yes.
Hemovesslowly.Peelingmytanktopoffoneshoulderthentheother.Teasingonenipplethenthe

other.Histouchissoft,precise.Hebrusheshisthumboverme.Againandagain.Mybreathhitches.
Myheartbeatpicksup.

Hestaysslow,patient.Thetensioninmyneckandshouldersmelts.EverythingelsemeltsuntilI'm

pure need. By the time his hand slides down my stomach and into my pajama bottoms, I'm too
desperatetothinkanythingbutnow.

His forehead is warm against mine. He's looking at me with hunger and need, yes, but there's

muchmoretoit.He'sgivingsomethingofhimselftome.

Hebringshisotherhandtomyshoulder,cuppingmychin,mycheek,myneck.Theintimacyofit

leavesmebreathless.Ihavenochoicebuttoclosemyeyes.

Hisfingersbrushagainstmyclit.I'msokeyedupthatthelighttouchisenoughtosendsparksto

mycore.Mylipspartwithasigh.Myfingersdigintohisskin.

Histouchstaysslow.Alltheneedthathasbeenplaguingmecollectsbetweenmylegs.Tom.God,

Tom.

Littlebylittle,hestrokesmeharder.UntilI'mpanting.Untilthere'ssomuchpleasureinsideme

I'mnotsureI'lleverbeabletobreatheproperlyagain.Isqueezehishipasanorgasmrisesupinside
me.Ipressmycheekagainsthis,soakinginallthewarmthofhisface,hisbody,hishands.

There.PleasurespillsthroughmeasIcome.Igaspandmoan.Incomprehensiblethingsthatbarely

resemblewords.Itfeelsdamngood.Muchbetterthanmyhand.MuchbetterthanwithBradley.

Tom wraps his arms around me and pulls my body into his. No words. But I can feel his heart

beat,heareveryinhale,everyexhale.Allthattensionisgone.I'mcalm.

Foronce,Ireallybelieveeverythingisgoingtobeokay.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Morninghitsmelikeatonofbricks.It'sbrightbutit'sdamncold.Idon'tneedtofeeltheothersideof
thebedtoknowthatTomisgone.

Myheartsinks.
Ifhe'sgone...Thenwhatthehelldidlastnightmean?
There'snowayI'mgoingtoclearmyheadhere.Aftermyusualmorningroutine,Ifindthehotel

poolandswimlapsforthebetterpartofanhour.Mythoughtssettlebitbybit.Ihavetodemandan
explanationfromTom.Itwillgutmetowalkawayfromhim,butIcan'tgivemyselftohimifhe's
goingtopullthatjustfriendslineagain.

Itoweldryandmakemywaythroughthelobby.
Clarity, gone. Tom is here. He's wearing a loose muscle tank and running shorts, and he's

drippingwithsweat.Explanationsaresilly.Whatmattersishowbadlymybodyneedshis.

"Hey,kid.Goodworkout?"Helooksaway,shy.
TomSteeleisshy.Withme.Thatmustmeansomething.
Therearefootstepsbehindus.Drew.
"Whyaren'tyouwearingpants,Wil?"Heasks.
Drew'sexpressionisoverprotective.He'salsocladinworkoutgear.Musthavebeenatthehotel

gym with Tom. Maybe they had a standing work out date. Maybe there's a completely reasonable
explanationforwhyIwokeupalone.OnebesidesTomrealizinghemadeamistake.

Theelevatordoorsslideopen.
Istepinside."Pantswouldaddalotofdraginthepool."
"She'sgotyouthere,"Tomsays.
Drewshootshimamenacinglook.Thenhe'sbacktome."Where'dyougolastnight?"
"Dinnerandamovie.Wantedsometimetomyself.I'mnotusedtotheconstantcompany."That's

closeenoughtothetruth.

DrewlooksfrommetoTomandbackagain."Let'sgetbrunch.Justthetwoofus."
"Rudeofyounottoincludeyoursister,"Tomteases.
Drewflipshimoff.Heturnstome."I'llgiveyoutwentyminutestogetready."
The elevator arrives at my floor. I step into the hallway. "Sure. See you then." My eyes catch

Tom's.Immediately,mycheeksareburning.IturnawaysoDrewwon'tgetideas,andIlockmyselfin
myroom.

***

DrewandItalkmoviesoverpancakesatacozyrestaurantontheothersideoftown.Hestillhasthe
sametaste—sciencefictionandsuperheroes—butKarahasexpandedhishorizonsintoclassicsand
independentfilms.

We linger through coffee refill after coffee refill. I'm practically shaking from the caffeine

overdosewhenDrewfinallyasksforthecheck.

Thewaitressdropsitoffwithamuchtooflirtysmile.He'scompletelyoblivioustoherattention,

alreadypullingbillsfromhiswallet.

Itrytostealthelittleblackbook."Letmegetit.Please.IgotmyfirstpaycheckfromHazel."
"Noway."Hethrowsdownageneroustip,closesthebook,andhelpsmeoutofmyseat."Ineed

yourhelp."

"With?"
Drewchecksthetimeonhiscell."Youhaveanhourortwo?"

Inod.TheonlythingonmyagendaistheshowtonightandIhavetobethereafterhedoes.
Hischeeksflush.He'snervous.ItmustbeaboutKara.Drewplayshiscardsprettyclosetothevest.

Exceptwhenit'sabouther.It'swrittenalloverhisface,howmuchhelovesher.Iwanttohavethatone
day.Withsomeonewhodeservesme.

Whateverthisis,Iwanttohelp.AndI'minfinitelygratefulforthedistraction.
We walk for a few blocks. The air is warm today. Sunny and bright. There are no signs of last

night'srain.

Drewbreaksthesilence."You'vebeenhangingoutwithTom."
Oh,no.Pleasedon'tletthisbeanambush.MybrotherandIareactuallygettingalongforonce.

Likewe'realliesandnotenemiesintheyoushouldmakeupwithMom—noway,she'sabitchbattle.

Drewstopsatastreetlightandrunsahandthroughhishair."I'mgladyou'rehere.Areyou?"
"Yeah.Hazelisamazing.Andit'snicetoseeyou.Tohangoutdoinglittlethings.TVandbreakfast

andwhatever.I'vebeenkeepingtomyselfthelastfewyears.I'vebeenlonely."Themomentthewords
areoutofmymouth,Iknowthey'retrue.I'vebeenlonelythelastfewyears.Beingaroundpeoplewho
careaboutmeisnice.Reallynice.

"Yeah." Drew smiles. "The guys can be idiots, but they're sweet deep down. Everyone seems to

likeyou."

Warmthspreadsthroughmystomach.Iactuallyhavefriends.OrI'mstartingto.
The walk sign turns on and we make our way across the street. Drew moves in a little closer.

Dropshisvoice.

"Tomseemstolikeyou."
I'mnotsurewherethisisgoing,butI'mnotoptimistic.Iclearmythroat."Doeshe?"
"He'sagoodguydeepdown.Ifyoucangetpasthimbeingwithadifferentgirleverynight.Only...

Wil,Iwantyoutobehappy.Iwantyoutohaveloveinyourlife.Makesmesickthinkingthatasshole
wasthelastguyyouwerewith."

It'salmostasifhe'ssayingIhavehisblessingtogoafterTom.Almostbutnotquite.
Drew looks me in the eyes. "He tries to help but it tends to be on his terms. He means well but,

givenyourhistory,I'mnotsureit'sthebestidea."

IstarebackatDrew."Don'tbecoy.You'regettingatsomething."
"He'scontrolling."
Ibitemylip.Tomispushy,yeah,butishereallycontrolling?It'shardtosay.Idon'thaveagreat

conceptofwhatisorisn'tnormal.InodathankyoutoDrew."I'llkeepthatinmind."

"Doyouhaveathingforhim?"
"We'rejustfriends."
"NotwhatIasked."
"He's..."Itakeadeepbreath."He'sareallyappealingguyinalotofways."
"Icantalktohim."
"Andsaywhat?"
"He's a player, Wil. I'm not saying there's no chance he'll ever have something real, but I don't

wanthimplayingyou."Drew'shandscurlintofists."Ifheisplayingyou,I'llneverfuckingforgive
him."

"Willyouhurthim?"
"I'mtryingnottogothere."Drewlooksmeintheeyes."Doyouwantmetotalktohim?"
"No.That'sokay.Iwanttofocusonmycareerrightnow.Andnotonguys."It'strue.It'salsotrue

thatIdon'tquitetrustDrewtohavethecalm,evenconversationhe'salludingto.

I really do want to focus on my career. Working under Hazel is the kind of opportunity that

doesn'tcomealongeveryday.

I look back to Drew to see if he's buying my explanation but he's staring at something else. A

jewelrystore.

A smile spreads over his lips. "I know you're not into fashion but you have a good eye for this

kindathing."Heletsoutawistfulsigh."IgotKara'sringsizefromMeg."

Myjawdrops.Hemustbetalkingaboutanengagementring."You'regoingtopropose?"
Henods."Afterhergraduationparty.Withskywriting.Iknowit'scheesy—"
"Cheesyisgood."
We step into the store. It's dead quiet, empty except for the shiny displays. Everything here is

gorgeous.WhatwouldKarawant?Shealwayslooksperfect.Herhair,makeup,nails,clothesalways
fittheoccasion.She'llwantsomethingclassic.Elegant.Butwithalittleflairtoo.

Iletmyeyesleadme.Thehaloringsaretootrendy.Notanangularshape.Somethingrounder.
There.Acushioncutsolitairedrawsmyattention.Perfect.
Drewisrightbehindme.Hiseyessparkleasmuchasthegemsdo.
"Youthinkshe'lllikeit?"heasks.
"Wecanlookaroundmore."
Hiseyesgotothering."No.It'sperfect."Hewaitsforthesaleswomantoapproachusthensmiles

ather."Iwantthebiggestoneyouhave."

***

AknockonthedoorrousesmefrommydaytimeTVandpancakeinducednap.

"Yeah?"Iasktheknocker.
"Hey."Tomtapshisfingersagainstthedoor."Ihavesomethingforyou.Apresent."
Tomgotmeapresent?Somethingtellsmeit'snotawrittenexplanationofhisintentions,butI'm

intriguedallthesame.

Iopenthedoorandinvitehimin.Helooksespeciallyyummyinhisstagegetup.Tightjeans.Tight

t-shirt. Messy hair falling in every direction. There's a thin wisp of liner around his green eyes. It
doesthingstome.Makesmykneesdesperatetobuckle.

Hesetsabrightpinkgiftbagonthebed.
"I,uh..."Helooksmeintheeyes."PeteandIareflyingtoLosAngelesaftertheshowtonight.We

havetotakecareofsomefamilystuff.We'remeetingthebandinMinneapolisnextweek.ButIdidn't
wanttoleavewithoutgettingyouthis."

Iraiseaneyebrow."ShouldIopenitnow?"
Rightoncue,hispantsbuzz.Hisphoneisinhisfrontpocket.Very,veryclosetohis—
"Eyesareuphere,kid."Tompullshisphonefromhispocket."I'mlateforthesoundcheck.You'd

thinkthoseassholescouldstartbythemselvesforonce,givenhowmuchtimeDrewspendstuninghis
alreadytuned guitar." Heignores the calland looks me inthe eyes. "Openit tonight. Or tomorrow.
Butnotwithoutme."

"You'releavingtonight."
"I'mprettysureyounoticedthatbuzzinginmypants."
Iclearmythroat.
"Callme.Wanttohearyourvoicewhenyouseeit."Hiseyesflarewithmischief."You'lllikeit.I

promise."

***

After the show and a solid hour editing with Hazel, I'm dead tired. I drag my heels to the bus and
collapseintheprivateroom.Technically,it'sTom'sturn,butheofferedittome.

Itexthimathankyouandgettounpackingmysuitcase.
Theroomiscleanandbareexceptfortheoverflowingdresserdrawer.Theamountofclothingin

itisdisturbing,consideringthatthebanduniformappearstobev-neck,darkwashskinnyjeans,and
sneakers.It'shardtocriticizewhentheyalwayslookdamngood.

NotthatI'monlythinkingaboutoneoftheminparticular.
NotthatI'mrememberinghowhelookswithoutthev-neck,sneakers,andskinnyjeans.
MypursehumswithJustinTimberlakesingingSexyBack.
IncomingcallfromTomSteele,Irresistible.
Ianswerthephone."Hello."
"Hey,kid.Youmissmeyet?"Hisvoiceislight.
Iteaseback."It'sallIthinkabout.Iranoutofinkdoodlingyournameinmynotebook.YouthinkI

shouldgetmy'TomSteele'tattooasatrampstamporatthetopofmybikiniline."

"Dependshowmuchyoulikedoggystyle."
Mycheeksflush.ItrytothinkaboutsomethingbesidesTomthrowingmeonthebedandfucking

mefrombehind.

Ifailmiserably.
"BetIcanguesswhereyourmindwent."Hechuckles."We'reboardinginfifteen.Thisisyourlast

chancetoopenthepresentwithoutPeteoverhearingeverything."

"WhatifIwanthimoverhearing?"
"Don'ttellmeHazelconvincedyouthatbassistsarewhereit'sat.She'salreadytornmyheartin

half."

"Iwouldn'tsteponherturf.Sistersbeforemisters."
Tom'slaughflowsthroughthespeakers,fillingtheroomwithwarmth.It'slikehe'shere.Almost.

Ifhewashere,I'mnotsureI'dbeabletoresisttouchinghim.

"It'suptoyou,"hesays."Iunderstanddelayedgratificationalittletoowellatthemoment."
"CanIaskyousomething?"
"Don'tembarrasseasily."
Mycheeksflush.Anynormalpersonwouldfindthisquestionhorriblyinappropriate,butTomis

notatallnormal."Doyouhavewetdreams?"

"Tsk.Tsk."Hisvoicedripswithmockoffense."Ieveraskyouifyouhavesexdreams?"
"Somethingtellsmeyouwill."Ifindthewrappedgiftbaginmysuitcase,takeaseatonthebed,

andplaceitinmylap."Doyou?"

"Yeah."
"Aboutanyoneinparticular?"
Hisvoicesoftens."I'mnotsureIshouldanswerthat."
Ibitemylip.Thismightleadtohimsayingsorry,thatwasamistakebutit'sariskIhavetotake.

"Whydidyougetmeofflastnight?"

He'squietforaminute."Iwantedtomakeyoufeelgood."
"Tom.That'sbarelyananswer."
"I'llexplainafteryouopenthepresent."
Thisbetterbegood."I'llputyouonspeaker."Isetmyphoneonthebedandreachintothegiftbag

slowly.

It'savibrator.
Ahotpinkvibrator.
Forasolidthirtyseconds,I'mspeechless."You'regoingtohavetoexplainthistome."

"Youhaven'thadsexinsixyears."
"I'maware."
"Doyouhaveanysextoys?"
"No."Ireachformyphone.IneedtohangupthiscallsoIcanthinkstraight.Thisisn'thotand

cold.ThisisDeathValleyandAntarctica.Thisisabsolutezeroandmeltinggold.

"I'msureyou'reverycapablewithyourhands,butsixyearsisalongfuckingtimetonotfeelany

desire.Anypleasure."There'snoironyinhisvoice.He'stotallyearnest."Youdeservebetterthanthat.
Youdeservetofeelsogoodyoucoulddie."

"Andyou'retheonewhoshouldgetmethere?"
He'squietforaminute."Thepointofthetoyisn'tsomethingtodotogetheronlongdrives.It'sso

youcantakeyourtimefiguringoutwhatyoulike."

Mymusclesrelax."Why,Tom?Whydidyoutouchme?"
"Youwantedmeto."
"That'sit?"
"No.Iwantedto."
Ipullmykneesintomychest."Whataboutmyfeelings?"
Hisvoicesoftens."Idon'twanttohurtyourfeelings,kid.Icareaboutyou."
Mystomachclenches.Idon'tlikewherethisisgoing.
"I'veneverdonetheboyfriend/girlfriendthingbefore.Neverevenconsideredit."
"Wedon'thavetojumptothat,"Isay."Wecanbefriendswhofoolaround.Seewhereitgoes."
"Maybe."Heletsoutananguishedgroan."Thisisnewforme.Iwantwhat'sbestforyou.Notsure

that'sme."

"Howcoulditnotbeyou?"
"I'mnotthekindofguyyoushouldbewith."
Tomisusuallyapillarofconfidence.Doeshereallybelievehe'snotwhat'sbestforme?Thathe's

notthebestfuckingthingintheworldforme?Itakeadeepbreath.

"I'm not going to be around the next few weeks. Pete and I are mostly going to be home with

Mom.Nextthree,fourshowswe'reflyinginmorningofandleavingfortheairportfiveminutesafter
the encore." He takes a deep breath. "You should focus on your photography. We can talk once I'm
back."

"IseverythingokaywithyourMom?"
"Notsureyet.I'lltellyouonceIknow."
"I'mgoingtoaskyousomething,"Isay."Willyoupromisetoanswerhonestly?"
"Yeah."
"Whatdoyouwant?Rightnow,inthismoment?Evenifit'sselfish.Evenifit'snotwhatyouthink

isbestformeoranyoneelse."

"Besidestheabilitytoteleport?"
"Yeah."
"Iwantyoutousethatvibratortocomeuntilyoucan'ttakeitanymore."
Mycheekflush.Myexhaustionhasmydefensesdown.Itmakesmebold."Doyouwanttolisten?"
Hegroans."God,yes."

CHAPTERNINETEEN

Ichecktomakesurethedoorislocked.

CanIreallydothis?CanIreallymasturbateforTom'slisteningpleasure?
Self-consciousnessthreatenstooverwhelmme.
"Youthere,kid?"Hisvoiceisheavy,breathy.
Itencouragesme.Ineedhisgroansandsighsinmyears.IneedhimasdesperateandwantingasI

am."Yeah."

"Don'ttellmeyoulostyournerve."
"No.Iwantto.Areyoualone?"
"I can be. Hold on a minute." His side of the call goes mute. A few moments later, he's back.

"Done."

"I'veneverusedavibratorbefore."
"Youwantmetowalkyouthroughit?"
"Okay.Letmegetitout."
Thevibratorisaboutsixincheslongandalittlelesswidethana...uh...CanIreallydothis?
"Youokay,kid?"
Inod.Buthecan'tseethat."Alittleintimidated."
"It'shotashellthatyou'rewillingtoadmitit.PutthephonenexttoyourmouthsoIcanhearyou

groaning."

Oh, God, the way he says that, like my groans are his favorite song. I'm already flushed and

wanting.Isetthephoneonthebed,nearmyear.

"Takeoffyourt-shirt,"hecommands.
Ipullmytopovermyhead.There'ssomethingintimateaboutdoingwhatheasks.
"Youwearingabra?"
"Yeah.Youwantapicture?"Ioffer.
Tomgroans."Godyes,butwedon'thavetime."Hisbreathgetsheavy."Teaseyourself.Runyour

fingersovertheedgeofyourbra.Doitlightly,slowly,likeIdidwithyourtanktopyesterday."

MyeyelidsflutterclosedasIrunmyfingertipsovertheedgeofmydemi-cup.It'salittleawkward

atfirst,butTom'sheavyexhalesspurmeon.Imoveslowly.

Yes. Pleasure spreads out from my fingertips, over my chest. It's a start. A tease. I need more.

"Tom,"Igroan.

"Takeoffthebra."
Iflingittotheothersideoftheroom."Done."
Heletsoutasoftgroan."Rubyourthumbsoveryournipples."
I'mnotnearlyasexactasTomwas.Ittakesafewtriestofindaspeedandpressurethatmakesmy

sexclench.

Igroan.
"Whateverthatwas,doitagain."
Thepleasureinhisvoicedoessomethingtome.IplaywithmynipplesuntilI'mmoaningloudly

enoughtowakeuponeoftheguys.

"Takeoffyourjeans,"hesays.
Iunzipmypants,pullthemoffmylegs,andtossthemtothefloor."Done."
"Areyouwearingpanties?"
"Yeah.Normalcottonones.They'renotverysexy."
"Myhard-ondisagrees."

"Don'tyouhaveanothertwoweeksuntilyoucanmasturbate?"
"Yeah."Hisgroanishalfagony,halfecstasy."Thisismorethanworththeblueballs."Hetakesa

deepbreath."Grabthevibrator.Thesettingsareonthewhitehandle,intheshapeofaheart.Pressand
holdtheoneonthebottomtoturniton."

Thesettingsareintheshapeofaheart.There'ssomethingsweetaboutthat.Iremindmyselfthatit

doesn't necessarily mean anything, that Tom explicitly backed away from making this relationship
anything,evenfriendswithbenefits.

TomtakesmethroughthecontrolsuntilI'matthelowestsettingofconstantvibration.
"Tryitoveryourpanties,"hesays."It'llbeintense."
Itestthetoyagainstmyinnerthigh.It'ssimilartomyphone'svibratesettingonlyahellofalot

stronger.Slowly,Ispreadmylegs,workingthetoytomysex.

Thatisintense.Igasp.
Tomcontinues."Playwithituntilyoufindthespotthatfeelsbest.Thatmakesyourwholebody

seizeupwithpleasure."

Ishiftmywrist,myhips,mypelvis.There.That'sit.Waveafterwaveofpleasurespreadsthrough

me.It'sintense,fast.Mysexclenches,alreadyclosetoanorgasm.

God,howIwantTomherewithme,comingwithme.God,howIwantTom.Thisisn'tenough.

Nothingisgoingtobeenoughuntilhe'smine.

I let myself imagine him here, his hands around the toy, his body next to mine, his lips on my

neck.Agroanescapesmylips.Yes.There.Almost.

Hisbreathisheavy,desperate.HeneedsthisasbadlyasIdo.Itpushesmetotheedge.
Pleasurewellsupinsideme.Thisthingisdamnstrong.
Then he groans, and I can't take it anymore. I hold nothing back, moaning and panting as an

orgasmovertakesme.Pleasurespillsoutfrommycore.Icomeinspasms.

When I can't take it anymore, I turn off the toy and collapse into the bed. Tom's breath flows

throughthereceiver.It'ssteadyandneedyatonce.

"Thatwasamazing."
"Thanks."
"Youokay?"
"Betterthanokay."
Hislineissilentforamoment."Shit.We'reabouttoboard."
"Willyoutextmewhenyougetin?"
Hehesitates."Sure."
"Tom,I..."
"Igottago,kid.Sweetdreams."
"Youtoo."

***

Forthenextfewdays,TomandItextaboutnothingandeverything.Thoselittledetailsthatmakeup
theday.Runningoutofeggsinthemiddleofmakingbreakfast.Myattemptsattrimmingmybangs.A
pictureofaparticularlydecadenticedcoffee/chocolatecupcakecombination.Hesendspicturesfrom
hismorningruns.PlaybyplaysofhismomandPete'scommentaryastheywatchtrashyrealityTV.
Requestsformoviepicksthatwillpleasehismom.

Thenit'stheconcert,andTomisbarelyhere.
Thenextfewdays,ourtextsaboutnothingspreadthinner.Thinner.
Thenextconcert,Idon'tevengetachancetosayhello.

I try to give Tom space to deal with whatever it is that's keeping him away. It's good for me to

focus on my work. When I'm not assisting Hazel on one of her passion projects, I'm researching
openingaboudoirstudio.I'mstilltooshytoaskamodeltoposeformebutI'mnotwillingtowait
anylongertopractice.

SoItakeself-portraits.
Completelymortifyingself-portraitsI'mnevergoingtoshowanyone.
ExceptthatIwanttoshowTom.Iresistfordays.Ithrowmyselfintowork.UntilI'maloneinmy

hotelroom,wellpastmidnight,unabletosleepbecausemythoughtsarestuckonhim.

Ihavetocall.
"Hey,kid,"heanswers."Youringmeupthistimeofnight,I'mgoingtothinkit'sabootycall."
Ilaugh.Everythingfeelseasierwithhisvoiceinmyears.I'vemissedhim."Howhaveyoubeen?"
"Two flights every four days. Living the dream." His voice drops. "You haven't asked why I've

beenaway."

"LasttimeIasked,yousaidyou'dtellmelater."
"Youtrustme?"
"Yeah."Ireallydo."Wheneveryoudecideyouwanttotalkaboutit,I'mheretolisten."
"DoIgettolisten?"heasks.
Oh.Yesplease."Youdon'thavetobribemewithemotionalconfessions.I...Ilikeddoingthatwith

you."Mycheeksflush."We'reinahoteltoday.I'malone."

"Fuckyes."Heletsoutasighofpleasure."Weshouldtalkfirst.I'llbeincoherentafter."
"Howareyousocomfortablewithyourself?"Iask."Idon'tthinkIcouldeversayanythinglike

that."

"Practice.Tryit."
"Whatspecifically?"
"Tellmehowyou'llfeelafteryoucome."
God,I'mburningup."Um..."
"Anything.Evenasingleword."
"Good."
Hislaughissweet."Anythingelse?"
"LikeIwishyouwerehere."
Thesoundthatcomesoutofthespeakersisalotlesssweet.It'saheavy,needysigh.
I like that. A lot. It's enough to convince me to try this potentially embarrassing honesty thing

again."LikeIcan'twaituntilIcanhearyoucome."

"And?"
"LikeIwantyouinsideofme."
Tomlet'soutananguishedgroan."You'reafastlearner."
Accordingtothemirror,I'masredasatomato.Buthedoesn'thavetoknowthat.Ikeepmyvoice

confident."Thanks."

"Bettergetontask,orI'llbeincoherentalotfaster."
"Ididanotherboudoirset."
"Withoutme?"Heteases.
"They'reself-portraits."
"Fuck.ShowmewhenI'mback.NotsureItrustmyselfifIhavethemonmyphone.Stillhavetwo

daysuntilI'mclearedforaction."

He can't trust himself not to masturbate if he has sexy photos of me? God damn, I'm on fire. I

betterchangethesubjectorI'llbetheincoherentone.

"Whereareyou?"Iask.

"Home. My mom lives in the same house she did when she first fostered me. I have the same

NirvanaandBlink182postersonmywalls."

"Tellmeaboutyourroom,"Isay."Iwanttoimagineyouthere."
His voice is light. "House is a three bedrooms. Nice, comfortable suburban place. My room is

upstairs. It's small. Twin bed, plain black sheets and black comforter. Sad little desk I never used
'causeIbarelydidmyhomework.Wallsarenothingbutposters.Afewotherbands,thenallthegreat
GeorgeA.Romeroflicks."

"Who?"
"DawnoftheDead!Theoriginal.It'sacommentaryoncommercialculture.Thezombiesflockto

themallbecausethey'redrawntoit."

"Zombies?It'sahorrormovie?"
"Technically.Butyou'dlikeit.AlotlessscarythanLetTheRightOneIn."
"Maybe.Igetfreakedoutprettyeasily.Imostlywatchmoreupbeatclassics.RomanHolidayismy

favorite."Iliebackonmybed."Whenwillyoubebackforgood?"

"After Kara and Meg's graduation. Tried to rearrange our tour dates so we wouldn't be flying

nonstop,butMomthreatenedtochangethelocksifwecanceledashowtoseeher."

"Yourmomsoundsbadass."
"Sheis."
"Itmustbescary...whateveritisshe'sgoingthrough."
"Yeah."
Hewantstotellme.Icanhearitinhisvoice.Hejustneedsapush.
Itakeadeepbreath."Whatisshegoingthrough?"
Hisvoicesoftens."ShehadcancerwhenIwasinhighschool.Breastcancer.Itmightbeback.She

foundalumplastmonth."

Idon'tbreathe.
"Ididn'thandleitwellthen.Iwanttobebetterthistime.Bestrongforher."
"Areyouscared?"
"Yeah.Tryingnottogetaheadofmyself.Itmightbenothing.Sofar,testresultsareinconclusive."
"I'm sorry." I don't know what else to say. God, I wish he was here so I could wrap my arms

aroundhim,dosomethingtocomforthimproperly."IsthereanythingIcando?"

"No.I'mabouttodrop.Howaboutaraincheckonthephonesex?"
"Yeah.Sure.Imissyou."Ibitemylip.Ihopethatdoesn'tscarehimoff.
"Imissyoutoo,kid.Whateverhappens..."Hisvoicetrailsoff.
"Whatcouldhappen?"
"Nevermind.I'llseeyousoon."

***

ThetoneofTom'svoicehauntsmeallday.

Igettotheconcertvenueanhourbeforehe'sdueontheoffchancehe'llbeearlyenoughthatwe

cantalk.OratleastthatIcancomforthimthewayhecomfortedme.

Sitting does nothing to help with the nerves in my stomach. I pace instead. The security guard

invitesmebackstagetwentytimes.Eventually,Iseethelightinbeinginside,andIaccepthisoffer.

Thereareafewroadiessettingup.Iwanderthetinybackstageareainhopesoffindingaproper

distraction.

Myphonebuzzes.Ialmostjump.It'sfromTom.He'sonhisway.
Theairportisonlyfifteenminutesfromthevenue.

Ispendallfifteenofthoseminutespacing.Thenanotherten.
Finally, the back door pushes open. There are voices. Pete. And Tom. They're laughing about

something.God,it'snicetohearhislaugh.

ButwhenTomlooksatme,hisexpressiondarkens.
Peteclearshisthroat."Ihavetomakeacall."
Tomlooksathisbrother."Youdon'thaveto—"
"Yes,Ido.DrewandMileswillbehereintwenty."Petenodsgoodbyeandmakeshiswayoutside.
We'rebehindthestage,behindthecurtain.Everythingaroundusisblack.Thewalls,theceiling,

thetilefloors,themood.

"Willow,I..."Tomrunshishandthroughhishair."I'vebeenthinkingalot.Likewesaid."
Mystomachclenches.There'snowaythisendswithandIrealizedI'minlovewithyou.Let'smake

thisofficial.

"Icareaboutyou.Alot.Toomuchtokeepdoingthis."Heholdsmygaze,evenashiseyescloud

withregret."I'msorryifIwasleadingyouon.Wasn'tmyintention."

"ButI..."
Helooksaway."It'sbetterifwestickwithbeingfriends."
God,didhehavetodothisbeforeashow?Ihavetospendthenextfewhourswatchinghimdrip

withsexappeal.

AtleastIhaven'teatensincelunch.Nothingtothrowup.
He stares at the floor. "Tomorrow is the end of my six weeks, and Miles is making a big deal

abouttakingmeout,makingsureIbreakmycelibacy."

No.He'snotsayingthesewords.No.Itakeastepbackwards.Another.
Ihitthewall."You'recallingthisofftofuckastranger?"
"No,kid.That'snot—"
"Don'tcallmethat."
"Thisisgoingtohurtmoreifwehavesex,"hesays."Thisiswhat'sbestforyou.Forbothofus."
"Fuckyou.Ifthisiswhatyouwant,fine,butIdecidewhat'sbestforme."
"Willow."
"Why are you running away from this?" I ask. "Tell me. Please. If it's me, if you don't want

someonelikeme,Iunderstand."

"It'snotyou."
"Thenwhatisit?"
Hesaysnothing.
"Okay.Fine.Iunderstand."Iswallowhard.Anythingtokeepfromcrying."Goodluckattheshow.

Hopeyouenjoyfuckingsomerandomwomantomorrow.Hopeit'sreallyspecial."

"I'mnotgoingto—"
"No. Do. I want you to enjoy your fucking piercing. We're nothing. You're a free agent. Free to

fuckanybodyyouwant."

Iturnandrushtothewomen'sbathroom.Hesayssomething,butit'snotYou'reright.I'manidiot

forrunningawayfromthis.Letmepressyouagainstthewallandmakeituptoyou.Infact,I'mgoing
toskiptheshow.Whatdoesarocksongneeddrumsfor,anyway?I'dmuchratherbangyou.

CHAPTERTWENTY

Themusicisthrobbing.Muchtooloudforconversation.ThankGod,becausethere'snowayIcanget
anywordsoutofmouthbesideswhatthehellamIdoinghere?

I get it. We're just friends. But that doesn't mean I want to watch Tom pick out his next sexual

partner.

I'mgoingtothrowup.
Iadjustmycocktaildress.It'sthesexiestthingIown—tight,short,low-cutenoughtoshowoffmy

chestpieceandmycleavage.NotthatIgotdressedthinkingofwhatwouldmakeTomreconsider.

Alltheguysarehere.IneedtokeepupmypokerfaceorI'llquicklybecometheband'snewpity

project.

Atleastwe'resecludedintheVIParea.Travelingwithrockstarshasitsperks.Icrossanduncross

mylegsbutnothinghelpsmegetcomfortable.Thesedrinksaretakingforever.

Tomplopsonthecouchnexttome.Hislegpressesagainstmine,theroughfabricofskinnyjeans

sendingshiversofelectricityupmyspine.

Milesholdsuphiscellphonetoshowoffthetime.Midnight."Thereyougo,Sticks.Yousurvived.

Sixweeks.Let'stakebetsonhowlonghe'lllast.Whowantsthirtyseconds?"

"I'll take thirty seconds." Pete looks at me, staring through me, checking if I'm okay. My poker

face must be pretty strong because he turns back to Miles with a light voice. "But we can't trust the
honorsystem.Who'svolunteeringtowatchandtimeit?"

Tomflipshisbrotheroff."CanIgetinonthis?"
"Seemsfair."Milesturnstome."Youhaveaguess?Ladiesshouldgofirst,butIdoubtTomwill

managethattoday."

"Uh..."Iuncrossandcrossmylegs.Anythingtostemtheheatbuildingbetweenthem.Howcanmy

body be raring to go when my heart is ready to give out? My knee brushing against Tom's does
nothingtohelpthesituation.

"PriceisRightrules,orclosest?"Drewasks.
"Closest."Milespullsahundreddollarsoutofhiswalletandslamsitonthetable."I'llgivehim

twominutes."HelooksTomintheeyes."Don'tsayIneverspeakhighlyofyou."

Acocktailwaitressarriveswithourdrinks.ClubsodaforMiles.Abottleofwhiskeyandmixers

tobesharedbetweeneveryoneelse.

Tompourswhiskeyontherocksforhim,Pete,andDrewandslidestheglassesacrossthetable.

Helooksatme."Youwantone,kid?"

"Pleasedon'tcallmethat,"Isay.
Tomstaresatmewiththisregretinhiseyes.Fuckhimandhisregret.He'stheonerunningaway

fromthis.

IadjustmytopformaximumcleavagepotentialandstarebackatTom."Whiskeyanddietplease."
"Sincewhendoyoudrink?"Drew'sexpressiongetsintenseandprotective.
IshrugasifdrinkingissomethingIdoallthetime.
HeandMilesshareaknowinglook.
"Allright."Drewtakesalongsipofhiswhiskey."I'llstayforonedrink,thenI'mgoingtobed.

Tom,I'mcountingonyoutomakesureWildoesn'tgetdrunk."

"That'sweakdelegating,"Milessays."I'mhurt."
"You too." Drew turns from Miles to Tom. "Just, I know which of you three is usually the

instigator."

"Youinornot?"Milesasks.

"Thisisdisgusting,"Drewsays.
"Not hearing a no." Miles makes the money gesture with his thumb and forefinger. "Come on,

hundredbucksanentry."Helooksatme."I'llevenpayforWillow'sentryifshe'sinterested."

"Uh..." I take a long, long sip of my whiskey and diet. It mostly tastes of cola and artificial

sweetener.

"Allright."Drewpullsfivetwentiesfromhiswallet."I'lltakethreeminutes."
"Thanksforbelievinginme."Tomrollshiseyes.
Petefishesahundreddollarbilloutofhiswallet."Clockstartsatthemomentofinsertion?"
Milesnods.
"Arewetalkingoralorintercourse?"Peteasks."Makesadifference."
"Whatdoyousay,Tom?Gotplansforhowyou'rebreakingyourfast?"Mileslaughs,revelingin

theawkwardnessofthesituation.

"Lady'schoice,"Tomsays.
"Oh?Youhaveanythingtosay,Willow?"Milesasks.
Ihavealottosaybutmymouthissticky.Ishakemyheadandtakeanothersip.Thebiteofalcohol

isn'tbad.EvenifitwarmsmythroatandchestmorethanI'dlike.

Tom'seyescatchmine.TheyfillwithsomethingIcan'tplacethengotothefloor.
Okay,timetofinishthisdrink.IttakestwosipsandI'mslurpingmeltedice.
"Fuckit.I'llcallitnow.Intercourse."Tomslamshisdrinkinonelongsip."I'lltakefive."
"That'sit?"Milesasks.
"Amanshouldknowhislimitations.Ifwe'retakingbetsforroundtwo,I'lltaketwenty."Tompulls

ahundredoutofhiswalletandaddsittothepile."Anyothercommentary?"

"Condom?"Peteasks.
"Whatkindofidiotdoyoutakemefor?"Tomasks.
"Youcansneakinsomesensationdullingbullshit."Petesmiles.
He'senjoyingthiswaytoomuch.
"Gotsomethatarespeciallymadeforpiercings.Normalsensation."
"Capitalismatitsfinest."Mileslaughs."Howmuchdothoserun?"
"Whatdoyoucare?"Tomshakeshishead."Neverknewyouguyswereobsessedwithmycock.

It'sflattering,butIdon'tswingthatway."

Petelaughs."I'llgouptooneminuteunlessyouwanttocallit,Willow."
IpassmydrinktoTomforarefill.Okay.Mightaswellbeapartoftheaction."I'lltakefifteen."
Our eyes connect. Something passes between us. Something intimate and not at all just friends.

Almostlikehe'sconsideringhowlonghe'dtakewithme.

"Damn,Sticks.Thegirlbelievesinyou.Shetripledthehighestbet."Mileslooksatme."I'mnot

offeringanyodds.Youcanbetsixandwinwith5:31.Betfifteenandyouneed10:01towin."

The gambling statistics mean nothing to me. "What can I say? I believe in Tom. He can do

whateverheputshismindto."Idrinkuntilmycheeksareburning.

Miles collects the money and slides it into his pocket. "That's five hundred dollars for whoever

getsclosest.Tomishonorableenoughtoreportaccurately."

"Youguysneednewhobbies."Drewslamshisdrinkandpushesoutofhisseat.
Drew'seyeslockwithmine.Hestudiesme,assessingwhetherornotI'mokay.Iguesstheanswer

isyes.Ormaybehe'srealizedI'manadult,andI'mabletomakemyownmistakes.

God, being here is a mistake. But being somewhere else, wondering how it's going, would be

worse.

"Callmeifanythingcomesup,Wil,"Drewsays.
Inodanokay.

Tomfinishes his drinkand pours arefill. He watches Drewwalk away thenturns back to Miles

andPete."Ican'twaittospendyourmoney."

Milesnodstoablondewomaninashortreddress."Askifshe'llvolunteer.Betshe'ddoitright

heresowecouldgetanhonesttiming."

Tomshakeshishead."Inyourdreams."
Theblondewomanlooksinthedirectionofthegroup.She'smakingeyesatsomeone.
"Onlytwominutesfromheretothealley."Milessipshisclubsoda.
"She'snotmytype,"Tomsays.
MilesandPeteshoothimohpleaselooks.
"Whatisyourtype,Tom?"Iask.
Thelookinhiseyessaysdon't.
Butmyalcoholdulledinhibitionssaydo."Really?Whatkindofgirlsdoyoulike?"
"Breathing,"Milessays.
"Willing."Peteadds.
"Fuckyou,assholes.Ican'thelpthatIlovethefemalebody.Aslongaswe'reonthesamepage

aboutthingsbeingcasual,Idon'tdiscriminate,"Tomsays.

"Butyoumusthaveapreference."Itakeadeepbreath.I'magluttonforpunishment.Aslongas

I'm going for it, might as well go for broke. "Tattoos or small breasts or unnaturally colored hair.
Something."

Mileslooksatmeandraisesabrow.Mydrinkisnothingbuticeagain.Funnyhowthatworksout.
Moreliquorisabadidea.Myheadisalreadyspinning.Istandupandbrushanylintoffmydress.

I'mhere.MightaswellmakethisaspainfulforTomasitisforme.

I run my hand through my hair so it's properly I'm too cool for this messy. Then I drag my

fingertipsdownmyneckandovermychestpiece.

Victory.Tom'seyesaregluedtomychest.Thetattoothenthecleavagethenallthewayuptomy

eyes.

"Yougoingsomewhere?"Tomasks.
"Thisisadanceclub,isn'tit?"IturnandwalkwithasmuchhipswayasIcan.Icanheartheguys

mutteringsomething.It'snotasifmyassinatightdressisgoingtoconvinceTomtoreconsider,butI
can'tsitonthesidelineswatchingthisgodown.

IwaituntilI'minthemiddleofthedancefloortolookbacktotheVIParea.MilesandPetestay

putintheirseats.ButTomisonhiswayoverhere.

Okay. I'm not spying. Absolutely not spying. I turn my back to the guys and find the beat of the

song.There.Iswaymyhipsintimewiththemusic.Iscanthecrowdforanyonewhomightgetmy
mindoffTom.

Ahandslidesaroundmywaist."Youallright,kid?"
Tom.Hemovescloser.Untilhischestispressedagainstmyback,hiscrotchagainstmyass.
"Iaskedyounottocallmethat,"Isay.
He'snothard.Yet.It'swrongthatIwanttogrindagainsthimuntilhe'sbeggingmetohelphim

losethatbet.

Hisbreathiswarmonmyneck.Whatthehellishedoinghere?HeknowshowIfeel.He'smade

hisstanceclear.

"You have a big night ahead of you." I shrug my shoulders to break his grip. "You should

probablygettoit."

"Iwanttodancewithyou."
"Why?"

"'Cause you believe in me." He slides his hands to my hips. "If you're not interested, I'll find

someoneelse.It'sayesornoproposition."

"Okay.Let'sdance."
Heguidesmyhips.
I'mnotplayingnice.Iswaywithhim,archingmybacktorubmyassagainsthiscrotch.Myheels

putmeattheperfectheighttomakethishardforhim.

Heleansintowhisperinmyear."Areyoureallyokaywiththis?"
Icopyhisfavoritecomeback."YoukeepdancinglikethatandI'mgoingtogetideas."
Heshiftshisbodyawayfrommine."YouknowwhatI'masking."
Of course I'm not okay. But he knows that. There's no way I'm going to say it again. I turn and

stareTominhiseyes."Trytomakeitlast.Icouldusethefivehundreddollars."

Hestaresthoughmelikehe'slookingintomysoul."Youdon'tlookokay."
I can hold this poker face for another ten seconds. No, he's still close. Make that three seconds.

Two.

IturnawayfromTom."Ihopeyouenjoyyourself.Excuseme."
One.Myfacadecrumbles.Icutthroughthecrowdbeforehehasthechancetolookatme.
Thedanceflooristhrobbingwithwarmbodiesandpheromones.Noonewhowantscompanyis

goinghomealone.NotthatTomeverlacksforapartner.

Ifindthewoman'sbathroomandhideoutuntilmybreathreturnstonormal.Icanfacethis.SoI'm

crazyforaguywho'sabouttotakeastrangerhomeforanonymoussex?Sowhat?It'snotlikeI'dfall
topiecesoveralittlethinglikemyheartbreaking.

Aftertwentyminutes,IgiveuponsolitudeandgoinsearchofMilesorPete.They'resittingon

thecouch,whisperingaboutsomething.Theirexpressionsflarewithconcernwhentheyspotmebut
theystillwavemeover.

Iplopinthespotbetweenthemandtrytotuneintotheconversationaboutindependentfilm.But

myeyeshaveamindoftheirown.TheyfindTom.He'sdancingwithashort,dark-hairedwoman.She
pawsathim,alreadymorethanwilling.

"YouhaveafavoriteTVshow,Willow?"Milesasks.
"Murder,SheWrote."
Herhandsslidearoundhisneck.Sherisestohertiptoestowhisperinhisear.Henodsandlooks

overatthecouch.

Mileswaveshimtowardsthedoor.
Peteclearshisthroat."YoueverseeMonk?"
"No.I'llhavetocheckthatout."Iplaywiththehemofmydress,willingmyeyestostayonmy

knees.

They refuse. Tom nods back to Miles. Even though he's fifty feet away, his eyes catch mine. He

staresthroughmeagain.It'slikehe'sopeningupmyheadanddissectingmythoughts.

Buthe'snot.Becausehe'sturningandhe'sleadingthatgirloutoftheclub.
I listen to Pete and Miles discuss cozy mysteries for five minutes. Their words fly through my

ears.Tomisgoinghomewiththatwoman.

Myeyessting.Somethingwarmandsaltyrollsdownmycheek.
Fuck.I'mcrying.
Ican'tcryhere.
I blink my eyelids together. The hotel is right around the corner. It's a three-minute walk. I can

makeitthreeminutes.

"Excuseme."Ipushoffthecouch."I'mreallytired.I'mgoingtocrashinmyroom."
"I'llwalkyou,"Milesoffers.

"No. I need some time to think." I wipe my eyes and turn back to Pete and Miles with my best

everythingisgreatsmile."Thanksforoffering."

"Yousure?"Milesasks.
"Positive.Havefun."Iturnbeforetheycanobjectfurther.
It's difficult to cut through the crowd with every ounce of strength fleeing my body. Finally, I

makeittothestreet.It'sawarmnight.Humid.BythetimeI'mintheair-conditionedhotellobby,my
hairisstickingtomyskin.

There'snosignofTom.It'sbetterthatnoonewillseemeinthissorrystate.Iskiptheelevator—

toomuchchanceI'llrunintosomeone—infavorofwalkingthefourfloorstomyroom.

Mybedbeckonsme.Iturnoffthelightsandthrowmyselfonthemattress.Okay,thisisit.Thisis

allthecryingoverTomI'mgoingtodo.Imightaswellmakeitcount.

Icurlintoaballandgiveintothetearsrollingdownmycheek.
I'mabouttocollapsewhenthere'saknockatmydoor.I'mluckypeoplecareenoughtocheckon

me.Atthemoment,it'shardtomusteranygratitude.

Withgreateffort,Ipushmyselfoffthebed,makemywaytothedoor,andlookoutthepeephole.
It'sTom.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

Tomknocksagain."Willow.It'sme.Openup."

"Onlyifyou'redroppingoffmywinnings."
He'squietforamoment."No,I..."
No,IonlymadeittwominutesorNo,I'mwaitingtoseewhattimewecanget?
Hetapshisfingersagainstthedoor."Icanscreammyhalfoftheconversationbutsomeonewill

callsecurity."

Iunlockthedoor."Howwasit?"
Heslidesitopenanothertwoinches."Youmind?"
"No.Comein."Istepbackwards.
Light fills the room as Tom steps inside. He presses the door closed with his back. His eyes

connectwithmine.HecantellI'vebeencrying.It'swrittenalloverhisface.

Heswallowshard."Ididn'tfuckher."
"Whynot?Shewaspretty.Bigboobs.Niceass."
"Maybe.Barelylookedather."Hetakesasteptowardsme."Ididn'thaveanyintentionoffucking

her."

"Butyou...youleftwithher."
"NeededtogetthefuckoutoftheresoIcouldthink.ToldherIwantedacigarette."
"Youdon'tsmoke."
"Shedidn'tknowthat."Tompressesthepadofhisthumbagainstmycheek."You'vebeencrying."
"No."
"That'stheworstlieI'veeverheard."
Ishakemyhead.
"Yeah."Hebrushesstraytearsfromundermyeyes."Youwerecryingoverme?"
"That'squitetheaccusation."
Hestaresbackatme.
"Areyoureallythatfullofyourself?"
"Iam.Butyouwere."Heslideshishandbehindmyneck."You'vebeencryingalot."
"Notalot."
"Howmuchhaveyoucriedbeforethatthisisn'talot?"Hisvoiceissoft,sweet.
"Toomuch."Igotostepbackwardsbutthedamnwallisintheway."We'resupposedtobefriends.

Ican'ttakethishotandcoldthinganymore."

"I'vebeenthinkingaboutyounonstopsincewetalked.Notsureifyounoticedbutlastnightwas

theshittiestIeverplayed."

"Tom.No...Ifthisisanotherupswingonthefuckingsinewavethatisyourfeelingstowardsme,

thengonow.Ifyou'regoingtowakeuptomorrowandrealizethisisamistakeandthatweshouldjust
befriends,thengonow.You'replayingwithmyheartandI'mnotgoingtotakeitanymore."God,I'm
talking myself out of having sex with Tom. But it's necessary if I want to live through this tour. "If
you'rehereforanythingotherthangivingarelationshipanhonestshot,thenyouneedtoleave."

"Iwanttobewithyou."Heslidesahandaroundmywaist."ButI'veneverdonethatbefore.Might

notbeanygoodatit."

"That'sokay.I'mnotverygoodatiteither."
He brushes his fingers against my cheek. "I don't know what to do here, kid. Nothing has ever

mademehesitate."

IstarebackintoTom'seyes."Youwantme."

Henods.
"Iwantyou.We'llfiguretherestout.Ipromise."
"I'venevercaredaboutanyonethismuch.I...I'llhatemyselfifIbreakyourheart."
Islidemyhandaroundhisneck."Youwon't.Notonpurpose."
"Howdoyouknow?"
"Saythisgoesbadandyoubreakmyheartbecauseyou'redealingwithyourownshit.Thatwill

cutmetomysoul.Butrunningawaynowwouldhurtworse."Ipressmyfingertipsintohisskin."I've
spentthelastfewyearsrunningawayfromanythingthatmighthurtme,andallI'vegotisanempty
life.Idon'twanttorun.Iwantyou."Iarchmybacktopressmycrotchagainsthis."Please,Tom.I
can'tbearwaitinganothersecond.Ineedyou."

Hestaresbackintomyeyes,andIknowheunderstandsme.Hefeelsittoo,needsmetoo.
"I'mgoingtokissyou,"Isay."Iknowyoudon'tnormally—"
HislipspressagainstminebeforeIcanfinishmysentence.Yes.Betterthaninmydreams.Better

thananything.

JustapeckandTompullsbacktolookatme.There'ssomuchinhisgorgeousgreeneyes.Desire,

affection,need.

Hekissesmeagain.Anyhintofreservationisgone.HesucksonmylowerlipuntilIsighwith

pleasure.Histongueslipsintomymouth,swirlingaroundmine.

Hetastesgood.NotlikethethreeshotsofwhiskeyIwatchedhimdrink.Likespearminttoothpaste.

LikeTom.

Hegotreadyforthis.
Hegotreadyforme.
Idon'tcatchmybreathuntilourkissbreaks.
His eyes meet mine. Different than before. Hungrier. He brings his hand to the bottom of my

dress.Ispreadmylegstoguidehim.

Slowly,hedragshisfingertipsupmythigh.Almost.Theyskimtheedgeofmypanties.
"Please,"Ibreathe.
Hepresseshislipsagainstmyear."Ilovethewayyousaythat.It'sfuckingsexy."
Iarchmybacktopressmysexagainsthishand."Please."
Hekissesmehard.Histongueslidesintomymouth,exploringit.He'sdamnpatientashestrokes

meovermypanties.

Itugathishair.Now.Ineedallofhim,now.Idragmyfingertipsoverhischest,hisneck,hisears.
Hegroans.
Yes,theears.Irunmyfingertipsoverhisearlobeswithafeatherlighttouch.
Tompullsback.Hegrabsmyhandsandpressesthemhardagainstthewall."Letmelead,kid."He

slidesmypantiestomyknees."Iwanttosavorthis."Hedragshisfingersuptheinsideofthethigh."I
wanttofeeleverysecondofyourpleasure."

Mysexclenches.Iwanthimleading.Itrusthimwithmybody.Andthat'severything.
Tomtakeshissweettimeunzippingmydressandslidingittomyfeet.Hedragshisfingertipsup

mycalves,mythighs,myhips.

Heunhooksmybraandslidesitoff,oneshoulder,thentheother.Hiseyesgowideatthesightof

mybreasts.Likeit'sthefirsttimehe'severseenawomannaked.

Ormaybeit'sthebesttime.
Histouchislightovermystomach,mychest,mycollarbones.Hecatchesmybottomlipwiththe

softpadofhisthumb.Islidehisdigitintomymouthandsuckgently.Hiseyelidsflutterclosed.

He drags his hand back down my torso then cups my hip, holding me upright. A good thing

becausethemomenthisfingersskimmyclit,mykneesbuckle.

Histouchislight.Mybodythrobsinprotest.More.
Hislipsmakecontactwithmine.Hestrokesmeharder.Harder.
Harder.
Ishudder.Yes.There.Igroanintohismouthinsteadofspeaking.Hekeepsthesamespeed.The

samerhythm.

Drummers,theyknowhowtokeepafuckingbeat.
Tensionbuildsashestrokesme.WhenIcan'ttaketherisingblissanymore,Iprymylidsapart.

Watchtheexpressionoffascinationonhisface.Hiseyesarewide,transfixed.Rightnow,I'mthemost
importantpersonintheworld.Thesexiestwomanintheworld.

Myeyelidspresstogether.Myhandsfindhisshouldersandtugathist-shirt.Thenunderit.There's

somethingrightaboutourskinconnecting.Iwantmyfingersoneveryinchofhisbody.Hisfingers
oneveryinchofmine.

God,Tom.
Consciousthoughtmeltsaway.I'mtheflutterofhislipsagainstmine.Thesighofpleasureashis

fingersfindtheperfectrhythm.Thearchofmybackbringingourbodiestogether.

Pleasurewellsupinsideme.Itknotstighter,tighter,harder.Ibreakourkisstocryout.Howisit

possibleforanythingtofeelthisgood?

God,thewayhe'slookingatme.Itmakesithardtostand.
Withhisnexttouch,theknotreleasesandpleasurespillsthroughme.MysexpulsesasIcome.
Hepullshist-shirtoverhishead,andpresseshisbarechestagainstmine.Everynerveinmybody

lightsupatonce.He'sagainstme.Justhim.Justme.

Tompresseshislipsagainstmyneckandshoulders.Kissing,sucking,bitinggently.Hisfingers

teasemysex.Slowly,heslidesoneinsideme.

Yes.Godyes.
Hiseyesconnectwithmine.He'swatchingme,watchingmyreactions.I'msowreckedwithneed

thatIbarelymanagetonod.Hepushesdeeperthenslidesanotherfingerinsideme.

Mybodytenses.Ithurtsforamomentthenitfeelsreallyfuckinggood.
ItakemytimeexploringthehardmusclesofhischestandstomachasIworkmywaydownhis

torso.Tom'seyesflutterclosed.HeletsoutalowgroanasIcuphimoverhisjeans.

ThelookofblissonhisfaceisthebestthingI'veeverseen.
He pulls his hand away, reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, and pulls out a condom. He

shimmiesoutofhisjeans."Tellmeifithurts."

Inod.
Hisboxersjoinhisjeansonthefloor.
Almost.
Tom'seyesgostraighttomychestasherollsthecondomon.Hecupsmybreastsashepresses

hisbodyagainstmine.Hishardcockpressesagainstmystomach.Notquitewhereitneedstobe.

Hebringshishandstomyass,kissingmeashekneadsmyflesh.We'reclosetowhereweneedto

be.Almost.

Heliftsme,holdsmeagainstthewall.Themusclesofhisarmsflexagainstmyflesh.Ishouldfeel

scared.Thathe'lldropme.Thatthiswillhurt.Thateverythingwillsomehowgowrong.

ButI'mnotscared.
Myeyelidspresstogether.Mybreathhitches.Ihookmylegsaroundhiswaist,spreadingaswide

asIcan,givingmyselftohim.

Iwanttobehis.Wanthimerasingthememoriesofanyoneelse.
Tom'sbreathisslow,even.Heshifts,hiscocknudgingagainstmysex.Almost.
Almost.

Hegroansashistipstrainsagainstme.
Mysexstretchesaroundhim.Idigmynailsintohisshoulderstocontaintheoverwhelmingsense

ofbeingfilled.Onedeliciousinchatatime,heentersme.Hiseyesdarken.Hisbreathhitches.Henips
atmyneck,hisgroansvibratingagainstmyskin,fillingmyears.

Deeper.
Thenit'stoodeep.Toomuch.Myteethclench.Mynecktenses.
Hestops.Cupsmyneck.
Itakeadeepbreath.Iwantallofhiminsideme.Everydamninch.IbringmylipstoTom's,slide

mytongueintohismouth.Heholdsmeuprightwithonehand.Theothergoestomybreasts,teasing
mynipplesuntilmymusclesrelax.

Tomlooksmeintheeyes,watchingmyexpressionasheslidesallthewayinsideme.Icanfeel

every inch of him, the way my body stretches around him. We're two puzzle pieces, finally locked
together.

Theworldisright.
A groan escapes his lips. He moves slowly, unbearably slowly, thrusting deep inside me and

pulling out again and again. With every thrust, the discomfort fades, replaced by pleasure. He's in
control.I'msafewithhim.Ashis.

Myeyelidspresstogether.Itfeelstoogoodtodoanythingbutmoan.Hislipsfindmine.Ourkiss

isasdeepandslowashismovements.

We'relockedtogetherforminutes.Notfast.Notevenalittle.He'sgentleashefillsmewithlong,

slowthrusts.AgainandagainandagainuntilI'mcloseenoughI'mshaking.

Heplantskissesalongmyjaw,myneck,myshoulder.
TomSteeleisapatient,gentlelover.
Whothehellwouldhaveguessed?
Ishudder.
Almost.
Iarchmyhipstopushhimdeeper.
God,hefeelsgood.
Hethrustsintomewiththosesameslow,gentlemovements.Minutespass.I'mlostinsomeworld

whereeverythingfeelsgood.

My sex clenches. Tighter and tighter and tighter. It's the slowest orgasm in the history of the

world.

IkeepmyeyesgluedtohisuntilIcan'ttakeitanymore.Mylidspresstogether.Onemorethrust

andItumbleovertheedge.Icomeinspasms,pullinghimcloser,tighter.

HestaysinsidemeuntilI'mstill.Hisgriptightensagainstmyhips.Ourbodiescomeuntangledas

carriesmeonthebed.Mybackhitsthemattress.Mylegssplayopen.

He brings his body on top of mine. His arms plant outside mine. I spread my legs, arching my

backtogivemyselftohim.

Histipstrainsagainstme.Ibitemylip,notsureifIcantakehimatfullforce.He'sbig.
Tombringshishandstomyhips,notholdingme,butcradlingme.Hepresseshischeekagainst

mine.

"I'vegotyou,"hewhispers.
He does. I only barely nod. Tom teases me with his tip. Again and again. And again. Until I'm

desperateforallofhim.Now.

Withoneswiftmovement,hethrustsinsideme.It'sdeep.Hard.Myeyelidsclose.Myfingersdig

intohisskin.Igiveintotheblissspreadingthroughme.Myhipsmoveoftheirownaccord,matching
hismovements,pushinghimdeeper.

Hegroansashemovesfasterandharder.
Another orgasm rises up inside me. My sex clenches again and again as I come. It pulls him

closer,deeper.

Tom'sgriptightensaroundmyhips.Hegoesharder.Deeper.
Within moments, he's there, groaning into my ear and digging his fingers into my skin as he

comes.Isoakineverysecondofhisorgasm.Thewayhisbreathgoeserratic,thewayhisvoicegoes
higher,thewayhisbodyshakesagainstmine.

Hepresseshislipsagainstmyneck,untanglesourbodies,anddoesawaywiththecondom.
Ifallontomyside,mythoughtsslowlydriftingbackintomyhead.
Then Tom is back on the bed, his arms around me, his lips against my neck. And I realize I'm

donewiththoughtsforthenight.AllIneedtoknowishowgoodhemakesmefeel.

HowbadlyIwanttobehis.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

There's a warm body pressed against mine. Breath on my neck. A heart pounding against my back.
NotmyheartbutTom's.

He'sstillinbedwithme.
Every organ begs me to stay next to him, to soak in the comfort of his arms for as long as

possible.Everyorganexceptmybladder.

Damn,Ihavetopee.I'mcarefulaboutunwrappinghisarmswithoutdisturbinghim.Still,hestirs.

Mutters something incomprehensible. He looks gorgeous asleep. But not like an angel. Even
surroundedbythesoftglowoflightpeekingthroughthecurtains,helooksliketrouble.

The curtains are only open a sliver and there's still all this light. It's far too bright to be a.m. I

shouldbeusedtothesleepallday,partyallnightrockstarlifestylebynow.

I allow myself one long moment to gawk at Tom lying on the bed on his stomach. Strong

shoulders,sculptedass,muscularlegs.God,he'syummy.Buttheheatbuildingbetweenmylegsonly
makesthiswholeIhavetopeesituationworse.

Ilockthebathroomdoor,pee,brushmyteeth,starttheshower.There'snoiseinthemainroom.

Must be Tom getting up. And his voice. He's on the phone. Ah, please let that be something trivial.
Somethingthatwon'tforcelifetocomecrashingdownaroundus.

Therearefootstepsthenaknockonthebathroomdoor.IopenupforTom.
He'sstillnaked.
Itwouldberudetodoanythingbutgawk.Itakemytimecheckingouthisjustasamazingfront—

fromthemessyhairtothedefinedabstothehardeningcock.God,he'salreadygettinghard.

Iamnaked.
Butstill.
"Eyesuphere,kid."
"Ihaveotherareasofinterest."
"Dotell."
"Thinkthey'reprettyobvious."Withgreateffort,Imeethisgaze."Whowasthat?"
"Roomservice.Youneedyourstrength."
"Whyisthat?"
Heslideshisarmaroundmywaist,pullsmeintothemainroom,andpointstothebed."Therefor

starters."Hepointstothemessytable."There."Tothearmchairinthecorner."Definitelythere."He
nodstotheshower."Seemsyoualreadyhavetherightideahere."

Oh.
"It'spastnoonbutItalkedthecookintomakinguseggs.Specialrequest."
"Uh-huh."
He's naked. I offer him my toothbrush so I'll stop gawking. He takes it, one eye on me as he

brusheshisteeth.

"I'veneverbeeninashowerwithsomeoneelsebefore,"Isay.
Herinseshismouthandsetsmytoothbrushbackonthecounter."Don'tdoittoooften.Condoms

don'talwaysplaynicewithwater."Excitementflaresinhisexpression."Actually.Givemeasec."

Hestepsoutofthebathroom.Waithereorgetstartedwithouthim?I'malreadydesperateforhis

touch.Desperateforourbodiestojoinagain.ThisismorethancarebutI'mnotsurehowmuch.It's
beenagessinceI'vehadanyfeelingforamanthatwasn'tindifference.

Tom is back in a hot second. He's hands me a folded piece of paper. His eyes meet mine. He

motionsgoahead.

It'sanSTDtest.
He'sclean.
"Ihaven'tbeenwithanyonesincebefore—"Hemotionstohisstillerectcock.
Icheckthedate.Threedaysago.Ilookbackintohiseyes."Yougotthisforme?"
Henods.
"Butyoucalledthisoffattheshow."
"WastryingtoconvincemyselfIcouldwantsomethingelse."
"Whatelse?"
"Somethinglesscomplicated.Thatwouldn'tendwithoneofushurting."Hepresseshislipsinto

myneck."Youwantmetogetacondom?"

"Youtrustme?"
Henods."Evenwithmyhandshere."Heslideshishandsovermychesttocupmybreasts.
"I'm clean. I got tested after everything with my ex and again six months after." I lean into his

touch."IhaveanIUD.Gotitjustincase...anythinghappenedagain."

"Justincase?"Helowershisvoice."Oh."
"It'snotexactlyasexyconversation."
"No,just—"Heleadsmeintotheshower."Notenoughbloodinmybrainformetothinkquickly."
I move under the flow of the showerhead. I'm already flushed. The warm water threatens to

overheatme.IswitchplacesandwatchwithraptattentionaswaterstreamsdownTom'sperfectbody.

His hands go to my shoulders. His lips go to my ear. "You've been through so much pain. With

yourparents.Yourex."

Ipressmybackintohischest.Beingthiscloseisn'tjustsexy.It'sintimate.Safe.We'reinamagic

bubblewherenothingelsecanhurtus."Youhave,too.Youjustdon'tleton."

He tilts my head towards his shoulder and presses his lips to the spot just behind my ears. "I've

neverfeltlikethisbefore.LiketheonlythingIwantedwastotakesomeone'spainaway."

Thereisn'tmuchspacetomovearound.IletTomlead.Hepositionsmeunderthewaterthentakes

hissweet,sweettimewetting,shampooing,andrinsingmyhair.

"I know there's nothing I can do to erase the past." He conditions and rinses my hair. His hands

traceaslowpathfromthebackofmynecktomysides."ButIcaneventhescorewithahellofalot
ofpleasure."

Tompresses me intothe wall. Theweight of his bodysinks into mine.We're both sopping wet,

slipperyinjusttherightway.IletmyeyesclosesoIcanfocusonTomdragginghisfingertipsdown
mychest.It'sdifferentthanwhenwe'redry.Slicker.Smoother.Thepleasureisdiffusedthroughmy
entiretorso.

His hands explore my sides and stomach and back. They make their way back up my torso and

curvearoundmybreasts.

Tomrubshisthumbsovermynipples."Lookatme,Willow."
Hiseyesarefilledwithdesire.Mykneesthreatentobucklefromtheintensityofit.
"I have a hypothesis to test here." He draws slow circles around me. "I'm going to need your

feedback."

"Yes."
"Yes,what?"Heshiftssohiscockpressesagainstmybelly.
"Yourhypothesis.Theoneaboutsmallbreastsbeingresponsive,right?"
"You'reabuddingscientist."
HeflickshisfingersovermynipplesuntilI'mpanting.Somuchfordiffusepleasure.Everytouch

sendsashockwavestraighttomycore.Ireachforsomethingtosteadymyself.

"Thisisaverygoodexperiment,"Igroan."Weshouldprobablyrepeatiteveryday."

"Forscience?"
Inod.
Myhandbrushesagainstthefirmmusclesofhisstomach.Hefeelsgoodallslipperyandwet.I've

been attracted to men, admired them from afar, but I've never craved my hands on their skin. Even
beforeBradley.

Theyhadnothingonthis.
Hisbodyisalreadymyfavoritethingintheworld.Thewayheshuddersasmyhandsmaketheir

waydownmytorso.Thewayhepresseshischeekagainstmineandsighsrightintomyear.

Myhandslipsbelowhisbellybutton.There.Itbrushesagainsthiscock.
Hegrabsontomyhipsandpressesmeagainstthewall.
IkeepmytouchlightasIstrokehimfromhisbasetohistip.Hiseyelidsflutterclosed.Hislips

partwithasigh.Hispleasureismypleasure.Betterthanmypleasureeven.

Irubmythumboverhistip,testinghisreactionsasIplaywiththebarbellontop.It'ssnugagainst

hisglans.BarelymoveswhenItouchit.Butthatdoesn'tstophimfromshudderingandpressinghis
lipstomyear.

"YoukeepdoingthatandI'mgonnacome."Hisvoiceisbreathyanddesperate.
"That'stheidea."
Iteasehimthewayhisteasedme,rubbingmythumbovereveryinchofhistipuntilhe'sshaking.

MydoIlikethisapadravyaofhis.HegroanswithpleasureeverytimeItouchit.

"Willow."Tomslideshishandaroundmyassandholdsontight.
Irisetomytiptoestobringmymouthtohisear.Theceramicflooristooslickformetokeepmy

balance.Islip.

Tom catches me and holds me against the wall. "You need to work on your balance, kid. Some

yogaorrollerbladingorsomething."

Ilaugh.Somuchforbeingthecool,suavesexexpert.Icanstilldrivehimoutofhisdamnmind.I

lookupatTomandslidemyfreehanduphisstomachandchest.

"Later.Rightnow."Idragmyfingertipsuphisneck."Ineedtofeelyoucomeonmyhand."
"Fuckyes."
"Showme."
Hetakesonehandoffmyhips."Sureyoucanbalanceonyourown?"
Inod.
Tom places his palm on the back of my hand and uses it to guide my movements. Long, slow

strokesgetfaster,harder.

Iusemyfreehandtoplaywithhisearlobe.Everybrushmakeshimshakeorshudderalittlemore.

He groans, releasing my hand from his guidance to press it against the slick tile wall next to my
shoulder.

Hestaresdeeplyintomyeyes."Don'tfuckingstop."
NowayinhellwouldIstop.Istrokehard.Hekissesmeaggressively.Histongueslidesagainst

mineashegroansintomymouth.Icanfeelhissighofpleasurereverberatingacrossmycheeksand
downmychest.

Thewayhe'sshakingandgroaning—he'salmostthere.
Ikeepmypace,evenashepullshislipsawayfromminetoletoutadeep,animalgroan.
"I'mgonnacome."Heslamshishandagainstthewall.
Icanfeelhimpulsing.Canseetheecstasyinhiseyesandlips.There.Hecomes,spurtingagainst

myhandandontomybelly.

"Fuck,Willow."Hewrapshisarmsaroundmeandholdsourbodiestogether."Haven'tenjoyeda

handjobthatmuchsinceIwasfifteen."

"Isthatacompliment?"
"You'refuckingamazing."Heslideshishandsaroundmyneck."Thatbetter?"
"It'sastart."
He nudges me towards the showerhead. The water flows over my head and chest. He turns me,

bringingmybackagainsthischest.Tomrubsabarofsoapbetweenhishands.Thenhissoapyhands
areonme.

"That'sfuckingnaughty,distractingmelikethat."Hesucksonmyearlobe.
"ToldyouIwasn'tnice."
"Youreallyaredirty."Hekneadsmybreasts."Bettergetyouclean."
Ilaugh."I'mnotsureItrustsyourintentions,Mr.Steele."
"Youshouldn't."Hepresseshislipstomyneck."Youlikeit,huh?"
"Likewhat?"
"Thepiercing."
Irubthebarbetweenmyhandsandtakemytimesoapinghischestandback.WhenI'mthoroughly

satisfied,Itiltmynecktowhisperinhisears."Iloveit."

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

Afteraquietbrunch,Tomleavesfortheband'safternoonTVappearance.KaraandMeg'sgraduation
istomorrow.We'reflyingbacktoLosAngelestonight.

Around dinnertime, a limo picks me up at the hotel. The guys are already inside. Already

bantering.

It'sarealpartymachine.Tomsitsnexttothemini-bar,guardingit.
Nooneelseseemsinterestedintheminibottlesofliquor,butthatdoesnothingtolessenTom's

guarddogstance.Hekeepsonehandontopofthehandle.Theexpressiononhisfacesaysdon'teven
tryit.

"Shit,reallythoughtyou'dlosethestickupyourassafteryoucame.Whathappened?Don'ttellme

that woman turned you down. She looked like she was gonna drag you to the manager's office and
throwyouonthedesk."Milesdriftsintoamemory.

Petehasoneeyeontheirconversation.Theotherisonhisphone.Heshakeshisheadlikehecan't

believehowridiculoushisbandmatesare.

Drew, on the other hand, is not even remotely here. He stares out the tinted windows, lost in

thought.

Milesreachesfortheliquorcabinet,tauntingTom.Itearnshimaslaponthewrist.Hisnexttaunt

earnshimaslapontheforearm.

"Whiskey dick? You were pounding those shots. Happens to the best of us. Or so I hear." Miles

smiles.

Tomrollshiseyes."Ihadsexwithawomanlastnight,yes.Icameonce.Shecamethreetimes.Do

youneedanymoredetails?"

Milesissarcastic."Soundslikeitwasalotoffun,allthatjoyinyourvoice."
There's no way he could possibly know he's talking about me, but the comments stings all the

same.Thesexwasgood.There'snowayhewasfakingthegroansthatmadeitintomyears.

Butit'sbeenhoursnow.Maybehe'sreconsidering.
Tom'seyescatchmine.HeturnsbacktoMiles."Itwasfantastic.WishIwaswithherinsteadofyou

assholes."

"I'veneverseenyouwithagirlunlessyouwereonyourwaytoorfromherbed."Peteslideshis

phoneintohispocket.

"Fuckingher,"Tomcorrects.
MilesfollowsTom'sgazetome.HeshakeshisheadandmakeseyecontactwithTom."Enough

suspense,youtease.Tellmeyouonlymadeitone-minute-thirty-oneseconds.Megwillenjoydinner
moreifsheknowsyourlossispayingforit."

"Sorryguys.Gotcarriedaway.Shelookssofuckingsexycomingonmyhand.Completelyforget

Iwassupposedtotimeit."Tom'seyesconnectwithmine.

Mysexclenches.He'stalkingaboutme.Aboutushavingsex.It'sourdirtylittlesecret.
"Atleastballparkit,"Milessays.
Tomsmiles."Atleasttwentyminutes."
Peteshakeshishead."I'veneverheardyoulasttwentyminutesbefore."
"Youlistenthatclosely?"Tomasks.
Peteshrugs,notatallshy.
"Shit.Twentyminutes.Aftertwomonths?Idon'tbuyit."Milespullsfiveonehundreddollarbills

fromhiswallet."I'lltakeyourwordforit,butonlycauseWillowistheunderdog."

"IfIwasgoingtolie,wouldn'tIlietowin?"Tomasks.

"Youregomeansmoretoyouthanfivehundreddollars,"Petesays.
"Closertofivehundredthousanddollars,"Milesadds.
TheylooktoDrewforacomebackbuthe'sstillinadaze.
"What'swrongwithDenton?"Peteasks.
"What?" Drew blinks, his attention returning to the limo. "I don't care how long Tom spent

fuckingthatGothchick.Stopaskingformyopinion.I'vegotmoreimportantshitonmymind."

MileslooksatTomlikehe'sexpectingthedrummertogetinvolved.
Tomshrugs."MaybeweshouldleaveGuitarPrincealone."
"You'veneverleftanyonealoneinyourlife,"Milessays.
"Shut up and pay Willow." Tom shifts back in his seat, spreading his legs, inviting me between

them.

Ifonlywedidn'thavethisdamnaudience.
"Congrats."MileshandsmethestackofcashandnodstoDrew."Youknowwhathisproblemis?"
"Ihaveaguess,"Isay.
"Youthreeevermindyourownbusiness?"Drewpullsaringboxoutofhispocketandstaresatit

withablissfulsigh.

Eyesgowidewithenthusiasm.Themoodmellowsintoaseriesofgoodlucks.AfterIissuemine,I

turn my attention to Tom. There's something in his eyes. I can't place it. He catches me staring and
motionstohisjeans.Tohisphone.Hepullsitoutandtapssomething.

Oh,he'stextingme.Ipullmyphoneoutofmypurseasinconspicuouslyaspossible.
Tom:Howwasyourafternoon?
Willow:BusydoingeditsforHazel.She'sataskmaster.You?
Tom:BusythinkingaboutwhatI'mgoingtodotoyouwhenIgetyoualone.Stilldyingtospread

yourlegsandtasteyou.

My cheeks flush. I check for an audience. Nothing. Miles and Pete are swarming Drew with

attention.Mybrotheristhecolorofatomato.

There'sabuzzinginTom'shands.Hiseyesflashwithmischief.Hemustthinkit'sfromme.That

orhe'ssextingsomeotherwoman.Thementalimagemakesmystomachclench.

"Fuck." He dials a number and holds the phone to his ear. "How long... Can you get it down to

threehours?Okay...Don'tapologize.Shithappens...I'llfiguresomethingout."Hehangsupthephone
butkeepshiseyesandfingersonthescreen."Theflightisdelayed.Couldbefourhoursoreight."

Drew'seyesflashwithconcern."I'mnotmissingKara'sgraduation."
"Iknow."Tomtapshisscreenwithconcentration."There'stwoticketsontheredeyebutthey're

bothincoach."

"Getthefuckingtickets,"Drewgrowls.
TomlookstoMiles."Youtoo?"
Milesnods.
Afewmoretapsandthecrisisisaverted.Damn,that'sfast.Tomreallyhashisshittogether.He

givesMilesandDrewaseriesofinstructions.They'lltakethelimo.We'llgivethecharteredflighttwo
hourstonaildownadeparturetime.Ifitstaysindefinitelydelayed,there'saflightwithemptyseats
leavingatthecrackofdawntomorrow.WeshouldarriveintimeforthelasthalfofKara'sgraduation
party.

Thelimopullsoveronasidestreettodropusoff.Igetoutfirst.DrewgrabsTomonhiswayout

andwhisperssomethinginhisear.

Tomshakeshishead.Drewmustbegettingoverprotective.
TomslidesoutofhiscarandnodsgoodbyetoDrew."Iwouldn'texpectanylessfromyou."His

fingertipsbrushagainstthebackofmyhandontheirwaytohispockets.

Drewlooksatme."Callifyouhaveanyissues."
Inod."Goodluck.Ihopeshesaysyes."
Drewgroansandslinksbackintohisseat,hisbrowsscrewedwithconcern.
"Fuck,kid,thatwasharsh."Tomnudgesme."Themanisalreadyinpiecesoverthis."
"Iwastryingtobeencouraging."
Thelimopullsaway.
Petewaitsuntilit'sadotonthehorizontoaddressTom."Youknowwhatyou'reriskinghere?"
"Yeah,"Tomsays.
Thebrothersshareaknowinglook.I'moutoftheloopagain.Iguessbeingfamilyhasitsperks.
"Ihavesomethingtotakecareof.TextmewhenyouknowtheflightdetailsandI'llmeetyouatthe

airport."Petelooksmeintheeyes."Hereallylasttwentyminutes?"

I'msuremyexpressiongiveseverythingaway.
Petelaughs."Goodforyou."Henodsgoodbyethenturnsandleaves.
"Isthatgoingtobeaproblem?"Iask.
"Nah.Hedoesn'teventalktome."Tomslideshisarmaroundmywaist."Comeon.Ihaveplans

forwhatIwanttodowithyou."

"Withmeortome?"
"Firstone,thentheother."

***

Tomiskneelingatmyfeet.It'sabeautifulsight,closetoperfection.Onlywe'rebothfullydressedand
we'resurroundedbyadozenfamilies.I'mhavingdirtythoughtsatarollerrink.Ineedtogetagrip.

This place is the antithesis of sexy. Disco blares from the speakers. Multi-colored string lights

flickeronandoff.Hell,halfthepeopleherearedressedinbell-bottoms.

Yet,mythoughtsstayindeliciousplaces.
Tom ties my left skate tight. His fingers skim my exposed calf. I thank whatever inspired me to

wearaskirt.Jeanswouldmakeitmuchharderforhimtotouchmybareskin.

Tomlooksupatmewithmischiefinhiseyes.Heslideshisfingersuptheinsideofmyleg,over

the hem of my skirt, and back down my right leg. He takes his time lacing my right skate then he
pusheshimselftohisfeet.Well,tohisskates.

He'sbalancedperfectly.
"Whendidyoulearntorollerskate?"Iask.
Hetakesmyhandsandpullsmetomyfeet."I'lltellyouafteryougetaroundtherinktwice."
"Mybalanceisn'tthathopeless."
"Good."Hebrusheshislipsagainstmyear."I'dlovetodistractyou."
"You'reanaughtyboy."
Hecupsmyassasheslideshisarmaroundmywaist."Youlikeit."
"Nocomment."
"Comeon.Idon'twanttomisstheendofStayingAlive.Mydiscomovesarelegendary."
Withonehandattachedtomine,Tomskate-stepsbackwardstotheentranceoftherollerrink.He's

totallyeffortless.

Itakecarefulsteps.IgaveupmyattemptstorollerbladewhenwemovedtoSanFrancisco.The

hillsmadetheoncefunactivityterrifying.Iwasalwayswobbly.

Theflooroftherinkissomesquishyrubberthing.I'llbeokayifIfall.Iwon'tgethurt.
Takingstepsiseasy.Glidingisnot.IsqueezeTom'shandforbalancebutI'mstillwobbly.

Tom skates circles around me. The show-off has skills. He's damn cute with his skinny jeans

tuckedintoretroskates.

"Iwon'tletyoufall."Hesetshishandsonmywaistwithalighttouch."Trustme."
He'stalkingaboutskating,Iknow,butthewordscutallthewaytomysoul.Idotrusthim.It'sa

goodthingbecausehe'salreadygotavicegriponmyheart.

Leftlegfirst.IpickupmyfootandtrymybesttoslideasIplaceitbackontherink.Thatbuysme

abouttwoinches.Itrywithmyrightfoot.Threeinchesthistime.Icandothis.Igofaster.

Faster.
Shit. My foot goes down wrong. My ankle doesn't twist. It can't. The skates are so tight that my

entirelegtwists.OnlyIdon'tfallfacefirst.

Tomcatchesmewithoutmissingastep.
Hesqueezestight."Youokay?"
Inod.
"Thenhoptoit,kid."
"Hoppingisoutofthequestion."
"Glidetoit."Heshiftsbackwardstogivemeenoughroomtoskate.
Okay.Icanglidetoit.Mymovementsstartcautious.Eachtime,Imovealittlefaster,glidealittle

farther.IgethalfwayaroundtherinkbeforeItrip.Thistime,Iregainmybalance.Well,withTom's
help.

Hepresseshislipstomyneck."NotsureI'llbeabletodistractyoumuchatthisrate."
"You'reverydistracting."
"Thisisnothing."Hebringshishandtomyshoulderandslidesitoverthenecklineofmyblouse.
IgrabontotheedgeoftherinksoI'llhavesomechanceofkeepingmybalance."Whatisthat?"
"Aone."
"What'satenlooklike?"
"Thatwillgetusarrested."Hecupsmybreastovermytop."You'renotwearingabra."
Inod.
"That'snaughty,teasingmelikethat."Histhumbbrushesovermynipple,pressingthefabricof

mytopagainstthebud."I'mgoingtohavetoteaseyouback."

"Pleasedo."
"Fuck,doIlovethewayyousaythat."Tomnipsatmyearlobe.
He rubs his thumb over me. Just once and he brings his hand back to my hips. Pangs of desire

shoottomysex.Mybodycriesoutformore.Now.

Okay,noplayingnice.Itrytoshiftmyassagainsthiscrotchbuttheroller-skatesmakeitdifficult.

Wordswillhavetogetmethere."Please."

"Mmm."Hemovescloser,kisseshiswayupmyneckandovermyear."Thisisafour."
"Youhavearealmouthonyou,Mr.Steele."
"Not yet, kid. That will take us all the way up to an eight." He shifts, bringing our bodies to a

rollerrinkappropriatedistance.

"I'venever...noonehaseverdonethattome."
Heletsoutalowgroan.Hebringshismouthtomyear."It'slikethis.Only—"Heslidesonehand

undermyskirtandpresseshispalmagainstme.

Mysexclencheswithanticipation.
The warmth of his breath sends shivers down my spine. He sucks on my earlobe. Gently. Then

harder.Thenhe'sscrapinghisteethagainstit.Histongueslidesovertheoutsideofmyear.Thenjust
insideitsfirstcurve.

Holyshit.That'sgoingtobeintense.

Tombringshishandbacktomywaist.Heshowsmyotherearthesameattention.Thenhislips

are on my neck, sucking and nibbling and kissing with that same perfect finesse. When he finally
releasesme,I'mpanting.

Thisisafamilyplace.Ican'tjumphisbonesrighthere.Nomatterhowbadlymybodyisbegging

metounziphisjeans.

Skating.Iamskating.IamnotfuckingTominpublicinfrontoffortyorfiftywitnesses.
Ipickupmyfoot.Placeitdown.I'mmorestompingthanskating.Withmynextstep,Iglide.The

motionissmooth.Likehowseamlesslyourbodiesfittogether—

Shit.Istumble,landingonmyhandsandknees.It'snottoobad.
Tomkneelsnexttome.Hesmilesandbrushesmyhairawayfrommyeyes."Whathappenedto

yourconcentration?"

"Thisguywholikestotorturemebygettingmeallworkedupandmakingmewait."
"Hesoundshot."
"Prettyhot."
"Pretty?"Tomhelpsmetomyfeet.
"Incrediblyhot."Ilookintohiseyes."Buthe'sfartooawareofit."
"Vanityisoneoftheworsttraitsapersoncanhave."
Ilaugh."Besidesarrogance?"
"Ofcourse."Heslideshisarmsaroundmywaist."Ishenosytoo?"
"Very."
"Whyisitthatyouputupwithhim?"
IpressmyhandagainstTom'sstomach."I'musinghimforhisbody."
"I'msureheunderstands,beingthatobsessedwithhisappearance."Tomsmiles.
Ipressmylipsintohis.Hepullsmecloser,kissingbackwithintensityandwarmth.Thisisone

hellofagoodtime,butit'salsomore.

Hisfeelingspourintome.They'reeverything.
Hepullsbackandplantsakissonmyforehead."Atthisrate,we'regoingtomisstheflight."
"Isthereanywordonthat?"
"Don'tpretendlikeyouaren'tawareofeverythingthathappensinmyjeans."
"Mr.Steele,I'mnotsurewhatyou'rereferringto.Aladynevergawks."Itakeafewskate-steps.
"Nowordyet."Heplaceshishandsonmyhips,guidingme."AssoonasIhear,I'llbookusalimo

totheairport."

"Alimo?"
Henods."I'dexplain,butit'satleastathree."
WarmthfillsmybellyasIlaugh.It'seasybeingwithTom.Likenothingelseintheworldcanhurt

me.

Irollmyshoulderstoloosenmymuscles."Okay,MasterRollerSkater,let'sdothis."
"Let'sdothis,what?"
"Please."
Hegroans.

***

Wespendthebetterpartofanhourmakingslowlapsaroundtherink.Bythesixthorseventh,Ican
skatewithouthishandsonmyhipsormyhandontherailing.Tomtriesandfailstoteachmehowto
spin.Ifallonmyassoverandoveragain.Betweenthesquishyfloorandthewayhiseyeslightupas
mylegsspread,it'shardtocomplain.

Onemoretry.Iholdontohishandandattempttotwirl.Nogo.Myleftlegtripsovermyright.

Again,Ifall.Thistime,IlandinTom'sarms.

Headjustsmybalance."Youthiswillingtotrynewthingswhenyou'renaked?"
"I'mnotusuallywillingtotrythings."
"Whynot?"
"Toomuchriskofgettinghurt."
"What'sdifferent?"
"You."Ipressmybodyagainsthis."Iwanttodoeverythingwithyou.Sexuallyorotherwise."
"You'restrokingmyegoprettyhard,kid."
Alaughescapesmylips."Ilovewhenyoucallmethat."
"Youaskedmetostop."
"Becauseyouhurtme,Tom,runningwithoutanexplanation.Ididn'twantatermofendearmentif

youweregoingtoturnoffyouraffectionatthedropofahat."

"Itwasn'tanythingaboutyou.It'sme...Nobodyhasevercaredaboutme."
IstarebackatTom."Thereareprobablyathousandgirlsinlovewithyou."
"Withmystagepersona,sure.Whowouldn'tlovethatguy?He'srich,cocky,talentedasfuck.Hot

ashell.Butthat'snotme.Notallofme."

"Icareaboutyou."
"Now."
"WhywouldIstop?"
He looks away. "You'll get tired of me. Realize I'm not that playful guy who can show you the

world.ThatI'vegotmyownshittodealwith."

Ishakemyhead."You'realreadyshowingmetheworld."
IstaredeeplyintoTom'sgorgeousgreeneyes.There'sasadnessinthem.Butofcoursethereis.

He'sstillwaitingtohearifhismomisgoingtoliveordie.

"Howdidyougetsogoodatskating?"Iask.
"Opheliawasinarollerderbyleague.ShealwaystookmeandPetetoherpractices.Eventually,I

gottiredofsittingbymyselfandIlearnedtoskate."

"Himtoo?"
Tomnods."NotasgoodasIam,ofcourse."
"Ofcourse."
Ifollowhimtotherinkexit."Doesshestilldorollerderby?"
Heshakeshishead."Shehadtostopawhileback..."Hiseyescloud."Neverpickeditbackup."
"Whenshewassick?"
Tomnods.Hesqueezesmyhand."Lifeisgonnaintrudeonthissoonenough."Heleansinclose

enoughtowhisper."Rightnow,Idon'twanttothinkaboutanythingbesideshowgoodyoutaste."

Thesoundsthatescapemylipsareinnowaywords.
"Heardthisamazingideaaboutbreakingintothemanager'sofficeandgettingonmyknees."
I.Uh.It'sreallyfuckinghotinhere.Inod."Okay."
"Onlyokay?"
"Please."
Hestepsoutoftherinkthenhelpsmeontoabenchandoutofmyskatesandintomyshoes.Most

ofthepainisgonefromhisexpressionbutthere'sahintofitinhiseyes.

"Youhavetopromisesomething,"Isay.
"Don'tthinkI'veeverpromisedawomananything."
"I'llpopyourcherry."

Tompullsmetomyfeet."YoukeepsayingnaughtythingsandIwon'tbeabletopromisetospell

myname."

"It'sonlythreeletters."
"Evenso."
"Promisethatyou'lltellmeaboutitlater.Aboutyourmomandyourfamilyandbeinginfoster

care."

Henods."Ipromisewe'lltalkontheplane.AfterIwearyouout."

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

Tomisachampionlockpicker.Allittakesishiscreditcardandthirtysecondsofeffortandthedoor
markedManager'sOfficeisopen.Heleadsmeinsideandflicksthelighton.

Thelockclicksbehindus.
Ibrokeintoanofficewitharockstar.
I'mnotsurewhathappenedtotheoldversionofWillow—theonewhokepttoherselfandpoured

all of her attention into her photography—but she must be gone, because there's no way she would
havedonethis.

Tom's hands slide to my hips. He presses me into the door, the weight of his body sinking into

mine.He'ssofuckingwarm.Andhesmellssodamngood.

Our lips lock. Need pours between us. Desire. And something more, something deeper. At the

moment,it'shardtoplaceanythingthatisn'tohhellyes.Idigmyhandsintohismessyhair.Sighinto
hismouth.Rubmycrotchintohisuntilthefrictionhasmegroaning.

Hekisseshiswaydownmyneckandovermychest.Hisfingersgotothebuttonsofmyblouse.

He undoes them one at a time, his fingers lingering over my exposed skin, until I'm all the way
unbuttoned.

Myblousehangsatmyshoulders,mybreastsexposedtohim.
"Ilikeyounotwearingabra."Heflickshistongueagainstmynipple."HowcanIconvinceyouto

makeitahabit?"

"Keepdoingthis."
His mouth closes around my nipple and he sucks hard. The pressure is so intense my knees

buckle.

"How'sthat?"Hegroans.
"Yes.I'mconvinced.Todosomething.Iforgetwhat."
Hemovestomyotherbreastandteasesitjustasmercilessly.
"Toswearoffbras."Hesucksonmynipple.
God,yes.Sensationoverwhelmsme.Noonehaseverpaidmybodythismuchattention,andhe's

fuckingamazing.

"AslongasI'manedgyphotographer,Icangetawaywiththat."
"Youdecidewhatyouwanttofocusonyet?"
"I'mnotsureIknowhowtospellmynameatthemoment."
"It'salotmorethanthreeletters."Helaughs,thenhe'srightbacktodrawingcirclesaroundmy

nipplewithhistongue.

Agroanescapesmylips."WhathappensifIgowithoutpanties?"
"Fuck,kid,you'regivingmeideas."Hepushesmyskirtup.Hispalmpressesagainstmysex."I

betterdemonstrate."

"Pleasedo."
Hegroansasheslidesmypantiestomyknees."Saythatagain."
"Please."Ikickmypantiesoffmyfeet.
"Pleasewhat?"TomflickshistongueagainstmynippleuntilI'mpanting.
"Justplease."
I press my palm against the door to steady myself. The words echo through my brain. Please,

please, please. Please, don't break my heart. Please, fall in love with me. Please, let me fall in love
withyou.

Hetracesthelinesofmychestpiecewithhistongue."Iknowyougotthiscauseyourheartwas

broken."Hekissesmebetweenmybreasts."ButIstillthinkit'ssexyasallhell."

"Tom,please."Itugathishair.
"The way you say that is fucking sexy." He kisses his way to my belly button then positions

himselfonhisknees.

"YouthinkI'mthatsexy?"
"Fuckyes."
Hislipstreadlower.Lower.Hetracesthelieofmyhipbonewithhistongue.Almost.
Heslideshishandupmythighandovermysex."This.Howwetyouare—"
Igroan.
"That's fucking sexy." He slides his hand up my torso and teases my nipple until I'm groaning.

"Andthat."Hesucksonmyinnerthigh."Andthis."

God,he'sclose.
Itakeadeepbreath."Tom,I..."
"I'vegotyou,kid.Allyouhavetodoisrelaxandbreathe."Heflickshistongueagainstmyskin.

"If you like something–" He takes my hand, places it on his shoulder, and guides me through a
squeeze.

Okay.Icandothat.
My eyes close as his mouth moves closer. Closer. I try to push any insecurity out of my head.

Relaxandbreathe.I'mbreathing.Ideservepartialcredit.

Histongueflicksagainstme,andIforgeteverythingelse.Myname.W-I-L.Oh.Fuck.Thathardly

matters.

Intense doesn't begin to describe it. His mouth is warm and wet and he moves with all the

precisionintheworld.Hardflickssendshocksofpleasurethroughmytorso.Softlicksbuildslow
wavesofecstasy.Mykneesnearlybucklewhenhesucksonmylips.Holyhell.

Isqueezehisshoulder.Yes.More.
Tom slides his hand around my hip and under my ass. He adjusts my leg, hooking it over his

shoulder, spreading me open. He sucks on my labium until I'm wrecked with pleasure, until I'm
clawingathisshoulder.Thenhe'sattheother,movingwiththatsamefinesse.

Mygroansbuilduntilthey'remuchtooloudforoursemi-publicvenue.Idon'tcare.Arrestme.

Bettertogotojailforthenextonehundredyearsthantoholdbackanything.

I reach for Tom's hair, pressing my fingers against the back of his head. Who knew it was

possible for two people to be this close? For one person to matter more than anything else in the
world.

Helicksmeupanddown,teasingmyclitwithasingleflickofhistongueeachtime.Againand

again.UntilIcan'ttakeitanymore.

"Please,"Igroan."Pleasemakemecome."
Herespondsbysuckingonmyclit.Thistime,mykneesdobuckle.Tompullsaway.Heshiftsto

hisfeetandlooksmeintheeyes."Youokaymakingamessofthatdesk."

IshouldcarethatI'mfuckingupastranger'soffice,butIdon't.Notevenahint.
Inod."Yes.Now.Please."
Hepusheseverythingoffthethickdeskandsetsmeontopofit.Heguidesmeontomybackand

spreadsmyknees.Hislipstrailupmyleg.Closeandcloser.Untilthey'reonmeagain.Myeyesflutter
closed.Histongueflicksagainstmyclit,andtheworldclicksintoplace.

Fireworkseverywhere.Thesebeautifulburstsofcolorandlight.Likeamovie.Likeadaydream.

Likeeverything.

"Don'tstop."IsqueezehisshouldersashardasIcan.

Heworksmewiththatsamerhythm,samepressure.Yes.There.Isettleintotheground.Digmy

heelsintohisback.Tighterandtighter.OnemoreflickandIscream.

All that pressure releases as I come. An orgasm washes over me. I'm not sure I even know my

nameatthispoint.Aplantofsomekind.Atree.Whocares?

Tomlooksupatme,theprideofaccomplishmentspreadoverhisbeautifulface.
"Don't have to ask if you liked it." He climbs onto the desk, kisses his way up my stomach and

chest.Untilhe'spositionedontopofme."Youokaytogoagain?"

"Isityoufuckingme?"
Henods.
"Yesplease."
He pulls his t-shirt over his head, unzips and unbuttons his jeans. "You want me to wear a

condom?"

"No."
Tomstripstohisboxers.Hiseyesmeetmine."I'veneverhadsexwithoutacondom."
"Really?"
Henods."Neverbeeninamonogamousrelationship."
Relationship.
Ilikethatword.
Ilovethatword.
Heslideshisboxerstohisfeet.
Igawk.Everyinchofhimisyummy.Hispiercedcockisnoexception.
Tomdoesn'tgivememuchtimetooglehim.Henudgesmykneesapart,liftsmyass,andsetsmy

anklesonhisshoulders.

"Is this another attempt to teach me some balance?" I groan as his fingertips brush against my

nipple.

"No."Hisotherhandslidesundermyass.Hebringsourbodiestogether,hiscocknudgingagainst

mysex."JustwanttobeasdeepinyouasIcan."

God,yes.
Heentersmeslowly.It'sdifferentwithoutthecondom.Closer.Hepullsbackuntilhe'sonlybarely

insideme,thenthrustsintomeagain.Again.Again.Eachtime,Ifeelmorefull,morewhole.

By the time he sets me back on the desk, I'm dizzy with pleasure. I let him lead. I'm too

overwhelmedtodoanythingelse.Hefeelssogoodinsideme.Soright.

His fingers dig into my hips, encouraging my movement. I rock in time with his guidance. Oh.

Yes.There.Themetalballsofhisapadravyahitmejustright.Oneofthemanyway.Itrubsagainstmy
G-spot,sendingwaveafterwaveofpleasurethroughmytorso.It'sagoodthingI'malreadyonmy
back.Icanbarelykeepmylegsagainsthischest.

I stare back into his eyes. It's intimate, intense. This isn't fucking. It must be making love. Or

whatevercomesrightbeforelove.

Feelingsthreatentooverwhelmme.Ishiftmylegsoffhischestandwrapthemaroundhiswaist.

"Kissme.Please."

Helowershisbodyontomine,kissingmeasheadjustsmylegs.We'repressedtogether.Itfeels

right,howcloseweare,howhetasteofme,howhistongueclaimsmymouth.

Hemovesdeeper.Faster.Myorgasmbuildsquickly.It'sfast,intense.Icomeashethrustsintome.

Mywholebodyisshaking.

I grab onto Tom's hair to pull him closer. He kisses harder. There's intention in it, need,

everything.

Hebreaksourkisstomoanagainstmyneck.Ineedmoreofthat.Yes.Theears.Ibringmymouth

tohisears,lickingandsuckinguntilhismoansgetlouderandmoredesperate.Untilhismotionsare
justashardanddesperate.

"Fuck,Willow."Hesucksonmyneck.
There.Icanfeelhisbodyshaking,hiscockpulsingashecomesinsideme.Whenhe'sspent,he

collapsesontopofme.Ittakesminutesforourbreathtoreturntonormal.

Tomshiftsoffme.IfindaboxoftissuesandcleanupthebestIcan.
Hegetsintohisboxersandjeansandcheckshisphone."Twohoursuntildeparture."
"Didyouhaveanythingtodowiththeflightgettingdelayed?"
"IfIcouldfeelanythingbutsatisfaction,I'dbehurt,"heteases.
"GotridofDrewandgotusafewhoursalone."
"IwishIhad."Hepullshist-shirtoverhishead."Butthatwassheerluck."
Ire-buttonmyblouseandgetintomypanties.
Tomtapsafewthingsintohisphone.Heslidesthedeviceintohispocketandhelpsmeup."Come

on.There'salottotalkabout."

Inod.
"AndalotIwanttodotoyouonthewaytotheairport."

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

This limo is a little smaller and a lot less party central. No booze, no mood lighting, no stripper
poles.It'splentyofroomfortotwotosit.Orlie.

"Pizzawithvegetablesonit?"Tomscruncheshisnoselikehesmellssomethingbad."Really?"
"Ifyoudon'twantit,getsomethingelseonyourhalf.Justnotmeat.Ittouches."
"Okay.Redpeppers,artichokehearts,andbroccoliitis."Heshakeshisheadbuttapstheorderinto

atakeoutapponhisphone.

"You'lllikeit."
"That's my line." Tom pulls me into his lap and nods to the moon roof. "We're not in an 80s

movie.Fightyoururgetogetupandlookaround."

"I don't think it's possible to be around you and have an urge to do something besides jumping

yourbones."

"That'sanurgeIcangetbehind.Orinfrontof.Orunder.Orontopof."
"Oralloftheabove?"
"Ilikethewayyouthink."
Tompressesabuttontoslidetheroofopen.Thedarkblueeveninglightfallsoverus.Thecityis

toobrightforstarsbutthemoonisbigandbeautiful.

Ileanbackonthebenchseatandstareatthesky.Minutespasswithoutconversationbutthesilence

iscomfortable.

Tom really has no idea how romantic he is. How sweet he is. He's cocky about his looks, his

music,hisfucking,hisroleasbossybandprotector...aboutamillionthings.But,somehow,hecan't
seehowlovableheis.

Hishandslidesintomyhair."Don'tfallasleeponme."
"I'mnotonyou.I'monthebench."
"Don'tfallasleepuntilImakeyoucomeatleasttwomoretimes.Ihatetoletabeautifulwoman

down."

"Youcanmakemecome,"Imurmur."Justdon'twakeme."
"Won'tbedoingitrightifyousleepthroughit."
Afairpoint.
Hescootscloser,shiftsmesomyheadisinhislapandhe'slookingdownatme."Youreallywant

metowakeyouwithanorgasmsometime?"

"Sometime."Istarebackathim."Notyetbutsometime."
There'sunderstandinginhiseyes.Hedoesn'tneeditexplained.Thatkindofthingisthenextlevel

oftrust.

"Youcanwakemewithsexanytime."
"Youwon'tfeelusedifyouwakeuptomeridingyousenselessly?"
"Mmm.Ilostmytrainofthought."Tompullsmeupandintohislap.Hepresseshislipsintomy

neck."Haveyoueatenanythingsincebreakfast?"

"No."
"Then don't fall asleep until after dinner." He checks the time on his phone. "You skip a lot of

meals?"

"WhenI'mpreoccupied."Idigthroughthemini-fridgeforabottleofwater."Idon'tneedsomeone

remindingmetoeat.I'mabiggirl.Icanfeedmyself."

Heshakeshishead."AfraidIcan'tagreetothoseterms,kid."

I bite my lip. Part of me is touched by his concern. The other part is terrified of a not-quite-

boyfriendassertingcontroloveranypartofmylife."I'msureyouhavegoodintentions,butIneed
you to back off about looking after me. That's how things started with Bradley. At first it was little
things—don'twearthatdress,don'tstayoutlateafteryourswimmeet,don'twalkhomebyyourselfat
night—untilitbecomebigthings.Skippingclass.Endingfriendships.Runningofffrommyfamily."

"Iwon'tpushyou,won'ttrytocontrolyou.Butthere'snothingyoucansaytoconvincemenotto

takecareofyou."

Okay.Thatpartofmethat'stouchediswinning.Inod.
The limo pulls to a stop. The driver's door slams open and shut. A few moments later, he pulls

openourdoorandslidessomethingintothebackseat.

Apizzabox.Thatwasfast.
Tompullsitopenandtearsoffasliceandoffersittome."Youreallyshouldeat.Youneedyour

strengthbeforeIexhaustyou."

I take the steaming slice. It's topped with broccoli, red peppers, and artichoke hearts. He got the

wholepizzathewayIlikeit.

Tomnodsgoodbyetothedriverandtakesabiteofaslice."That'snotasbadasIwasexpecting."
"It'sgood."
Hepeelsoffapieceofbroccoli,tossesitinhismouth,chewsandswallows."It'sdecent."
Idigintomyslice.It'sbetterthangood.It'sfuckingamazing.Cheesyandchewyandburstingwith

therichflavorofredpeppers.Italkwithmymouthfull."It'sgreat."

Tompullsapacketofhotsaucefromtheboxandtossesittome.
Yes,pizzaandhotsauce.Iusedtoloveeatingpizzawithhotsauce.It'sbeenamillionyearssince

I'veenjoyedamealthismuch.It’sbeenamillionyearssinceI'veenjoyedanythingasmuchasIenjoy
beingaroundhim.

Itearopenthehotsauceanddousemysliceinspice."Thankyou.Forthepizza.And—"
"Don'tworryaboutthankingmefortheorgasms,kid.Morethanhappytooblige."
Mycheeksflush.
"Andthere'smorewherethatcamefrom."Henodstomyslice."Assoonasyou'redoneeating."

***

Icomefourtimesinthelimo.Truetohisword,Tomgetsbehindme,infrontofme,underme,and
ontopofme.Bythetimewearriveattheairport,I'mcompletelyoutofenergy.Thankgoodnesswe
don'thavetogothroughsecurity.Hangingoutwitharockstarshasitsperks.Theprivatejetisanew
one.

It's amazing. Room for about ten people, big cushy seats, a widescreen TV with a massive

collectionoffilms.It'salmostashamethatit'swellpastbybedtime.

Thepilot,aslightmanwithacharmingBritishaccent,introduceshimselfwithanapologyforthe

delay,thengetsintothecockpit.We'rescheduledtodepartinhalfanhour.Peteisyettoarrivebuthas
sentwordhe'sonhisway.

I get cozy in a corner seat, ready to sleep until we land. But there's something about Tom's

expressionthatwon'tallowmetorelax.He'sonedge.Worried.Abouthisbrotheroraboutsomething
else?

"Youokay?"Iask.
"Yeah.Just...shouldhaveaskedPetewherehewasgoing.Hewouldn'thavetoldme,but...Iwasa

littledistracted."

"Youreallylovehim."

"He'smybrother."
"That doesn't have to mean anything." I shift closer to Tom. "I don't love my parents. Not

anymore."

Hisgazegoestothewindow.
Hemusthavebeenthroughalotendingupinfostercare.Iwanttoknoweverythingthereisto

knowaboutTombutI'mnotsureeitheroneofusisreadytogobacktothosedarkplaces.

Ichangethesubjecttosomethingeasiertodiscuss."Howdidweenduponaprivatejet?"
"It belongs to the label. We're probably their third or fourth most popular artist. We only get

offereditwhentheVPisinagivingmood."

"Whogetsitfirst?"
Tomshrugs."Somepopstarwhosingsaboutbeingabadgirl."
"Allpopstarssingaboutbeingbadgirls."
"NotTaylorSwift."
"You'reafan?"
Heshakeshishead."Notmykindofmusic.You?"
"If fits a certain men are shit, they need to stop doing me wrong mood." The words echo in my

headagain.Pleasedon'tbreakmyheart.

"TheVPandIhavehadsometenseconversations.Don'tthinkhelikesanybodyinthebandexcept

Pete,andthat'sonlycausehewantsinPete'spants."

"Oh.He'sgay?"
"Bisexual.Inhiscase,itmeanshehastwicethepotentialsexualharassmentvictims.Givesother

bisexualpeopleabadname."

"Didyoufightaboutthat?"
Tomshakeshishead."Ourmanager."
"Theasshole?"
Hisfacelightsup."Youremembered?"
"Ofcourse."
"Afewyearsback,hewasinvolvedinourdaytoday.BackthenMilespartiedprettyhard.Mostly

slammingvodkashotsandfuckingadifferentgirleverynight.Seemednormal.Wewereallexcited
tobeplayingbigenoughshowstofeellikerockstars."

"Ican'timagineyouasanythingbutarockstar."
Tomsmirks."Ialwayshadtheegoandthedrive.ButIhadthosemomentsduringourfirsttour

whenwewerepackedintoavan,playingfortwo-dozenboredpeople,sleepingonthefloor,eating
fastfoodoffthedollarmenu.MomentswhereIaskedmyselfifitwasworthit."

"Wasit?"
"Yeah.Didn'treallyhavemuchtogohometo.Justmymom.Shewouldhavetoldmetosuckitup

andgetbacktochasingmydreams.NottobecruelbutbecausesheknewI'dneverforgivemyselfifI
quit."

"Shesoundsamazing."
"Sheis."Hisexpressionhardens.Backtosomeplaceugly.
Iclearmythroat.Wecan'tgothereyet."So,youwerepartyinglikerockstarsand..."
"ItbecameprettyobviousthatMileshadaproblem.Anditonlygotworseoncethelabelrentedus

this mansion in Hollywood and Miles got caught up in the party scene. Aiden was always pulling
MilesoutofmeetingsforsomeBSreasonoranother.OnedayIcaughtthemdoingcoke.Aiden's,of
course.Mileswasneverreallyintobeingupbutthenhe'ddoanythingtonotbeinhishead."

"HowcomeI'veneverreadatabloidstoryaboutMilesusing?Orgoingtorehab?"
"Youfollowgossip?"

"TherecouldbesomethingaboutDrew.I'dbeabadsisternottofollowit."
Tomlaughs."Youwon'tbelieveme."
"Tryme."
"AfewalmostpoppedupbutIpersuadedthejournaliststochangetheconversation."
"To?"
"Thoseleakednudepictures."
"Youleakedthemtokeepyourfriend'saddictionasecret?"
"Andtofuelmymassiveego.Turnedouttobeagreatmove."
"Ineverlookedatthem."
Heraisesabrow."Wehavewifiontheplane."
"I'llkeepthatinmind."
Hesmiles."AfterIdealtwiththepress,IaskedAiden,verynicely—"
"Idon'tbuythatforasecond."
"Threateningtobreaksomeone'slegswhenyouwanttokillthemisnice."
Ilaugh.
"Askedhimnicelytostopwiththecoke.Whenhedidn't,Ipulledstrings—"
"Wasthatmorefightingandthreatsofviolence?"
"Mostly.Mighthaveinvolvedsomeblackmailtoo."
"Mighthave?"
"I owe it to the blackmailed to keep that a secret," he teases. "Nothing could get him fired. He's

somebody'sfuckupnephew.SoIhadapoliteconversationwithAiden—"

"Politeconversation?"
"Verypolite."
"Didyouhithim?"
"Justonce.Iknowyouhateviolence—"
"Theassholewasenablingyourfriend.Youwereupset.Ithappens."
"Youshouldn'tcutmeslack,kid.Ilikethatyousticktoyourprinciples.Won'tforgivemyselfif

yousacrificethemforme."Tomlooksintomyeyes."Toldhimhecouldkeepthetitleandthemoney,
butIwouldtakeoverhisjob.AndthatifIsawhimagainhisnosewouldbebrokensobadhe'dnever
snortshitagain.Cowardgotlostrightaway.Onlyshowsupwhenit'sstrictlynecessary."

"Thatmustbealotofwork."
Tomshrugs."Heneverdiditrightanyway."
"Whydon'tyoutakecreditforrunningtheband?"
"What's it matter who takes credit? Miles would have done the same thing for me. Once he got

cleanandgothisheadoutofhisass."Tomrunsahandthroughhishair."Ishouldhaveconfronted
himsooner.Ilethimgoonusingforever."

"He'sanadult.Youdidn'tlethimdoanything."
"Knowing someone needs help and doing nothing is just as bad as being the asshole pushing

drugsonhim.IknewMileswasgonnadie,soonerorlater,ifnobodysteppedup."

"Youreallybelievethat?"
HelooksatmelikeIhavetwoheads."Ofcourse."
"Notmanypeoplethinkthatway."
"It'snothing.Shouldhavegivenhimanultimatumalotsooner.Truthis,Ididn'twanttothreaten

himwithexpulsionfromtheband.MilesisthefaceofSinfulSerenade.Wewouldn'tbewhereweare
ifgirlsdidn'tgoapeshitforhistorturedvoiceandhisprettyblueeyes."

"Butyoudidgivehimanultimatum."

"Eventually. He still hates me for it. But that's better than him dying in some hotel room by

himself."Tom'sexpressionhardens.

Hehasnoideahowmuchhe'swillingtosacrificeforhisfriends.
"Youareagoodguy,"Iwhisperinhisear.
"Justgettingshitdone."
Hereallybelievesthat.
But I don't. "When Miles was using, who was the person who pushed him to get clean? Was it

DreworPeteorwasityou?"

"Theywantedittoo."
"ButweretheywillingtoletMileshatethemforit?"
"Wewereallinagreement.WhenhewasfuckingshitupwithMegtoo.Weallagreedwecouldn't

watchhimdestroyhimself.Itwasnothing.Selfisheven."

"Doyoureallybelievethat?"
Tomshrugs.
Buthe'snotselfish.Selfishguysdon'tmakesureyoucomethreetimesforeveryonetimetheydo.

Selfishguysdon'torderpizzatheydon'tliketomakeyouhappy.

Andselfishguysdon'trisktheirlivelihoodstohelpafriendinneed.
ItrytothinkupsomewaytoconvincehimbutI'minterruptedbyPete'sarrival.Icrossmyfingers

thathe'llbeperfectevidenceofhowmuchTomdoesfortheband,forhisfriends.

Noluck.
Pete'sgotablackeyeandbruisedknuckles.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

Theplaneissilent.PeteandTomstareateachotherbutsaynothing.

Wetaxi,takeoff,andgetallthewaytocruisingaltitudebeforeeitheroftheSteelebrothersbreaks

thesilence.

"I'm going to sleep. Do whatever you want to do, just keep it on that side of the plane." Pete

brandishesapairofnoise-cancelingheadphones.

"Threequestions,"Tomsays.
"Fine."
"Youkillanyone?"
"No."Peteuntangleshisheadphones.
"Assault?"
"He threw the first punch. He won't press charges and nobody took a picture. Shit won't end up

online.Youcanbackoff."

"Idon'tcareaboutthegossip."
Peteshakeshisheadlikehefindsthisimplausible.
Tomlookshisbrotherintheeyes."Whowasit?"
"Kyle."
Tom'sbrowscrewsinconfusion."Thoughtyouguyswerestilltight."
"Thingschange."
Tom'svoicesoftens."Whathappened?"
"She'sbeenfuckinghim."
"What?"
"Forsixmonths,giveortake."Pete'sexpressiongoescold."Hemettobegmeforforgiveness."
ClarityfillsTom'seyes."That'sbullshit."
"Whyisthatbullshit?"Iimmediatelyregretthewords.Ishouldn'tgetinvolved.Thisispersonal

andI'mnotpartofthefamily.

Petelooksatme."Anyoneeverdoyouwrong?"
That'sanunderstatement.Inod."Yeah."
"Manorwoman?"Peteasks.
"Man,"Isay.
"Didheaskyoutoforgivehim?"Peteasks.
Inod.
"Howdidyoufeel?Likehewasreallysorryandhopedhisapologywouldhelpyoumoveon?Or

likehewasfullofshitandwantedyoutoabsolvehisguilt?"

I'veneverthoughtaboutitthatway,butnoonehaseveryapologizedtomeliketheyreallywanted

metomoveon.It'salwaysanattempttoabsolvetheirguilt."Thelatter."

"Didyouforgivehim?"
"No,butItoldhimIdid."
"You shouldn't have. You should have let the guilt eat away at him until he couldn't fucking

breathe."Petedirectshisgazetothewindow."Youearnforgiveness.Youdon'tgetengaged."

ConcerncreepsintoTom'sexpression."You'refuckingwithme."
Pete'svoiceisflatandlifeless."Nope."
"WhatcouldshepossiblyseeinKyle?"Tomasks."You'rericher,hotter,funnier,smarter—"
"They'reinlove."Pete'svoicefillswithdisdain."Theycouldn'thelpit."
"Shecheatedonyou?"Iask.

Henods.
"I'msorry,"Isay.
Peteexpressionisblank."Shouldhaveendeditawhileago."
"Shedoesn'tdeserveyou,"Tomsays.
Butthat'snotwhatPeteneeds.
IshiftintotheseatnexttoTomandwhisperintohisear."Remindinghimofthatisonlygoingto

makeithurtworse."

Tomswallowshard.Hebringshismouthtomyear."Gottadosomething."
"Youshouldleavehimalone,"Isay.
"You guys know I can see you, right?" Pete shakes his head. "If you're gonna whisper, whisper

about the things you want to do to each other. I'm fine. Tom, you should worry about yourself for
once."

"Idon'tworry,"Tomsays.
Pete rolls his eyes. "Hope you're taking this seriously. Cause Denton will fucking kill you if

you'rejustplayingaround."

"Iknow."
"Onehundredpercentchanceheleavesthebandifyoufuckthisup,"Petesays.
"I'mnotapossessionorachild.Whydon'tIgetasayinthis?"Ifoldmyarmsovermychest.I

hatethatI'mpouting,butI'vehadenoughofbeingprotected.

"You want a say, talk to your brother. How would you like him fucking your best friend and

keepingitasecretfromyou?"Peteasks.

Afaircounter-argument.
"Pete."Tom'svoicewavers.
"It'sfine."
"Youwerewithhersixyears.Howcanitbefine?"
"Idon'tneedyourhelp,Sticks."Petepullshishoodieoverhisheadandturnstofaceawayfrom

us.

It'saboutasfinalasitgets.
Tom gets out of his seat and goes back to pacing. He can't stand doing nothing. That much is

obvious.

Thefeelingspreadstome.Itsuckshavingyourheartbroken.It'sworsewhenyoucan'tadmitit,to

yourselfortosomeoneelse.IlookaroundthesmallplaneforsomethingIcandotohelp.Ifindaset
ofpillowsandblankets.It'snotmuchbutit'ssomething.

IsitnexttoPeteandofferhimoneofeach.
Henodsathankyou."DomeafavorandkeepTombusy.Evenifitmeansfuckinghim.I'vegota

massiveheadacheandhisvoiceisdrivingmebonkers."

"Sure."
"Helikesyoualot,"Petesays.
"Howcanyoutell?"Iask.
"Hedidn'toffertokillKyle."
Ilaugh."Youhaveagoodsenseofhumoraboutthings."
"Didn'thavemuchofachoicegrowingup."Heturnshisbacktome."I'doffertotalktoDrewbut

we'veneverreallyseeneyetoeyeaboutanything."

"That'sokay.JustkeepthisasecretuntilIfigureouthowtotellhim,"Isay.
"AsmuchasIliketofuckwithTom,I'dneverbetrayhistrust."Petenods.
Tom is on the other side of the plane. On a love seat. I go to him, slide my hands around his

shouldersandpressmylipsintohisneck.

"He'llbeokay,"Isay.
Tomnods."Wishhewasn'ttakingafterme,gettingintofights.Mymomisgonnakillme."
"Iwanttohearmoreabouther."
"I'mnotsureIwanttotalkrightnow."
"Thenholdmeforfiveminutes.Please."
Asmallgroanescapeshislips.
Ah,it'sthemagicword.Iwhisperinhisears."Please."
"YoukeepsayingthatandI'mgonnagethard."
"Thatisn'taproblemforme."
"YouknowPetelikestowatch.Oratleasttolisten."
Ishrug."Solethimlisten."
"Damn. You really are naughty." He brings his body behind mine. "Never held anybody this

much."

"Isitbad?"
"No."Hisvoiceisawhisper."Different."
Myeyesflutterclosed.It'slate.ItwouldbeeasytofallasleepinTom'sarms.Itwouldbejustas

easytogiveintothelustbuildingbetweenmylegs,kickoffmypanties,andpullhimontopofme.
ButIcanstillfeeltheuneasinessinhisbody.Heneedssomebody.Hemightnotrealizeit,buthedoes.

Iwon'tletmyselfbelieveheneedsme.Notyet.NotevenifIalreadyneedhim.
"AreyougoingtoseeyourMomwhilewe'reinLosAngeles?"Iask.
"Yeah. Day after tomorrow. She lives in Tustin. It's about an hour drive from our place in

Hollywood.Iwantedtogostraighttherebutshe'sreallyinsistentaboutusnotgivingupanythingfor
her. Even Kara's graduation party. All due respect to Kara—she's a sweet girl—but Ophelia's a lot
moreimportanttome."Hisvoicewavers."Ofcourse,inherinfinitestubbornnessshetoldmeshe'll
be out all day, with her ex. The one who hates me. Supposedly, she'd prefer me not being there
anyway."

"Doyoubelieveher?"
"Yeah. She'll do anything to get her way. But it's not out of malice. She always knows what we

need."

"Soundslikeyou."
"I learned a lot from her." He nods. "Should have seen us fighting over me dropping out of

school.Wasn'tlikeIplannedit.Justdidn'ttakehergettingsicktoowell.Shewasthefirstpersonwho
thoughtIwassomethingotherthanapieceofshit."

There'ssomethingabouthisvoice,avulnerability.Isqueezehishand,offeringwhatevercomfort

Ican.

He's quiet for a minute. When he breaks the silence, his voice wavers. Like he's not sure if he

shouldsharehissecret."Mydadwasneverinthepicture.Mybiologicalmomwasadrugaddictwho
letherboyfriendbeatmewhenhecamedownfromhishigh.AteacherpickeduponitwhenIwas
eleven,thenthestatesteppedin.MusthavebeeninfourorfivefosterhomesbeforeOphelia.Allthe
familieswerethesame.ThoughtIwassomenogoodpunk.Iwas.Gotintofightswiththeotherkids,
hitpeople,gotsuspended.OnlythingIdidn'tdowasdrugs."

Iturntofacehim.There'sanoceanofpaininhiseyes.Itsinksintomyskin,asrealasmyown.I

neverwanthimtohurtagain.That'simpossible,Iknow,butIneedtobetherethenexttimehehurts,
toeasehispainhoweverIcan.

IwrapmyarmsaroundTom.Itmustdosomethingtocomforthimbecausehisposturerelaxes.

Heleansintomytouch.

"Opheliawasthefirstpersonwhosawpastthat.Theonlyperson.Ididn'tknowhowIcouldever

liveinaworldthatdidn'tincludeher.Iwentonsomestupiddrinkingandfightingteartoconvince
myselfI'dbefinewithouther."

"Whathappened?"
"Didn't work. I held it together at home but I was a wreck the rest of the time. Would say I was

going to school but I'd go to this practice space instead and I'd play until I was too tired to feel
anything."Herubshischeekagainstmine."Whenshefoundout,sherefusedtoletmetakehertothe
hospital for her treatments until I got back in school. Refused to update me on how she was doing.
Threatenedtowritespecificinstructionsintoherwilltobanmefromthefuneral.She'salwayshada
darksenseofhumor."

"Shedidn'twanttobeaburdentoyou."
Henods."OnlytimeinmylifeIevercompromisedwasgettingmyGEDtopleaseher."Hepulls

mecloser."Ifthecancer'sback,that'sit.Theydon'thaveawaytotreatit."

"Thatmustbeterrifying."
"Yeah."
"CanIcomewithyou?"Iask."Whenyouseeher?"
"Iappreciatethethought,kid,butit'snotagoodidea."
"Whynot?"Ibitemylip."Icareaboutyou.Iwanttobethereforyou."
Tomshakeshishead.Hepushesoffthecouchandplopsinaseatbyhimself."I'mgonnatryand

getsomesleep."

Hepullsablankettohischestandreclineshisseat.
Andthat'sit.
Endofconversation.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

Aftertheflightlands,wetakeacabtoTomandPete'splaceinHollywood.It'sahugehouse,thekind
thatbelongsonanepisodeofCribs.Themainroomhasatallceilingandacurvingstaircasestraight
outofSunsetBoulevard.There'sabigbackyardintheback,completewithashiningbluepool.

It'sSouthernCaliforniacelebrityperfection.
Peteexcuseshimselftohisroom.Tomsitsmeonthecouchandpresseshislipsintomyneck.
It'sassoftandsweetasitwasyesterdaybutitfeelsdifferent.Fullerandemptieratonce.
"I'llmakecoffee."Hestepsbackwards."Wehaveanhourbeforewehavetoleave.Youcantake

theshowerdownhereortheoneinmyroom."

"Youhaveashowerinyourroom?"
Tomsmilessmugly."Igotthemasterbedroom."
"Howdidyoupullthatoff?"
Heshrugsnonchalantly.There'snopaininhiseyes.Ishehidingitfrommeorfromhimself?Itry

to convince myself that he's feeling better because of my epic comforting skills, but the suggestion
falls flat. His mom might be dying. That kind of pain doesn't go away because of a hug and a nice
nightofsleep.

Ifindthedownstairsbathroomandtakealong,hotshower.I'mnotreadytofacetheonslaughtof

feelingsthatcomewithbeinginthesameroomasTomsoItakemysweet,sweettimechanginginto
mypartydressanddoingmymakeup.

I'malmostfinishedwhenthere'sasoftknockonthedoor.
"WhydoIfeellikeyou'reavoidingme?"Tomasks.
"Justgettingready."
"Youwantcoffee?Wehavealmondmilk."
"Okay."
"It's already waiting on the counter." He taps the door. "There's plenty of snacks in the fridge if

you'rehungry.Ourhousekeepermakessurethekitchenisfulloffoodwheneverwe'llbehome."

Ipressmyfingersintothedoorattheplaceshe'stapping,sothethickplasterisbetweenis."No.

I'mnothungry."

“Istheresomethingexcitinginthebathroomorareyoureadytoadmityou’veavoidingme?”
Idon'tknowwhattosayhere.Iunlockthedoorandstepintothemainroom.
Tomisallcleanedupinslacksandabuttondownshirt.Damn,doeshelookgoodcleanedup.Just

assexyashedoesinhisusualtattooedbadboyjeansandt-shirt.

Tom'seyesscanmybody."Youlookfuckinghot."
"Thanks."
Hisgazegoestomychest."Tellmeyou'renotwearingpantieseither."
"Either?"
"You'renotwearingabra."
"Howdoyouknow?"
"Yournipplesarehard."
"It'scold."
"It'salmosteightydegreesoutsideandthewindowsareopen."Hegivesmeathoroughonce-over.

"Don'ttellme.ItwillbeevenhardernottotouchyouinfrontofDrew."Tomshakeshishead."Never
thoughtI'dbethisdisappointedtogotoaparty."

"Youreallylikehavingsexwithme."

"Fuck,yes."Tompullsmeintothekitchenandhandsmeacupofcoffee."Whydoesthatsound

accusatory?"

"It'snot."
Helooksatmecarefully."Youwanteggs?"
Inod.
"Well,you'llhavetowaituntilwecanpicksomethingup.Ican'tcookforshit."
Ilaugh."You'reatease."
"Thankyou."
Itakealongsipofmycoffee.It'sgood—dark,nutty,creamy,andsweetatonce—butthatdoesn't

makethiseasier."Whydon'tyouwantmetocomewithyoutoseeyourmom?"

Tom runs a hand through his hair. He doesn't say anything. There's all this pain in his eyes.

Confusiontoo."Needsometimetothink."

"Aboutwhat?"
"Can'texactlyexplainit."
"I don't want to add to your frustration," I say. "I'm sure there's a lot on your mind, with your

mom.Idon'twanttomakethatharderforyou."

"Youdon't,kid."
I stare back into his eyes. They're earnest. But then why doesn't he want me there? I take a deep

breath. My lack of sleep isn't helping me find clarity in the situation. "We can talk about this, about
whatitis,afteryouseeyourmom."

Helooksatmeforawhile."Ifyou'resurethat'swhatyouwant."
I'malreadylovingtheidea.Idon'twanttoaddtomyfrustrationeither.IwantafunnightwithTom

inLosAngeles.Iwanteverythingtofeeleasyandeffortlessagain.

Ifinishmycoffeeandsetthecupontheendtable."Positive."
Hepresseshislipstomyneck."IfIseeyoufrowning,I'mgoingtouseeverytoolatmydisposal

togetadifferentexpressiononyourface."

"Like..."
He runs his hands over my chest. "This." Then down my sides and along the hem of my skirt.

"This."Hepullsmeclosersohiserectionispressedagainstmycrotch."This."

"This?"Ipressmylipsintohis.
"No.Likethis."Heslideshishandaroundthebackofmyneckandpullsmeintoalong,deepkiss.
Iseefireworks.EvenasIpullbackandopenmyeyes.
"Oh,"Ibreathe.
Therearefootstepsupstairs.
"We don't have twenty minutes," Pete says. "Either make it a quickie or find another ride to

Kara's."

Ilaugh.
Tomshakeshishead,butheuntanglesourbodies.

***

Thepartyisinfullswingwhenwearrive.Karapracticallybouncesovertous.Hardtotellwhather
legsaredoingunderherroyalbluedress.Shealwayslookspictureperfect,buttodayshe'sespecially
glowingandglamorous.

"Ican'tbelieveit,butIactuallymissedyoutwo."Karasmiles.
She pulls Tom into a hug before he can escape. He grimaces. Slowly, he accepts the hug. Pete

doesn'ttakeitmuchbetter.

Karaturnstome."Howareyoudoing,Willow?"
"Good.Exceptforthejetlag,"Isay.
Shetakesalonglookatme."Hmm.Yes.Ibetitwastheflightkeepingyouuplate."Hergazegoes

toTom."Notanythingelse."

Tomshrugswhome?
Karanodsyes,you.Sheshakesherheadinateasingway.
"Congratsonyourdegree,"Petesays."Wegotyousomething—"
Tomcutsin,handingherabluegiftbagstuffedwithyellowpaper."You'lllikeit."
"Aw,thanksguys.It'seveninmyschoolcolors."Herexpressionfillswithaffection."Youdidn't

havetodothat."

"Wedid."Tomwinks."Drewcanthankuslater."
Karablushes."Oh,lord.Tellmeit'snotinappropriate."
Tomfeignsinnocence.
Kara peeks inside the bag. Her cheeks turn red. She pulls the gift from the bag, showing off a

naughtyteacherlingerieset.

"Don'tworry.WegotMegonetoo.Hadtospecialorderadoctoroutfit.It'sallnaughtynurses."

Tomfoldshisarmswithoutraged."Canyoubelievethesexism?"

Karathrowshimsomeserioussideeye.Shepointstoatablestockedwithfoodanddrinks."Bea

gentlemanforonceinyourlife,Tom,andpourmygirlWillowadrink."

Tomstaysput.
Karaputsherarmsonherhips."Go."ShenodstoPete."Youtoo."
Theboysdoastheyaretold.Tommotionsformetofollow.Itakemytimefillingaplatewith

snacks.There'salotoffoodhere.Fruit,veggies,chips,cakesandcookies,aplatterofsushi.Ifillup
onavocadorollsandwatermelon.

Tom'shandbrushesagainstmine.Itsendsajoltofelectricitystraighttomycore.Mybodywakes

upwithallkindsofdemandsaboutwhereandhowitwantshim.

"Youwantadrink?"Heholdsupabottleoftequila."There'sonlytequila,butthewayKaraand

Meg moan over their grapefruit and tequilas, you'd think that was the drink called a screaming
orgasm."

"No,I'mokay."
"Yousure?"
Inod.
Hesetsthebottledown."ThenI'llholdoff."
"Youdon'thavetostaysoberforme."
"Iknow."Herunshisfingertipsovermylowerbackasheleansintowhisper."Ihavebetteruses

formymouth."

Ohmy.
"Guessing I can't talk you into sneaking upstairs." His fingers brush my ass, over my dress.

"You'renotwearingpanties,areyou?"

"I'mnot."
Heletsoutthemostdeliciousgroan.
Mymindfillswithallsortsofbeautifulideas.HowisitI'mtemptedtosneakupstairs?Ishouldn't

bethiswillingtobendtomybody'sdemands.Notwhenthere'ssomuchatstake.

ButdamndoIwantTompressedagainstme,thosedeliciousgroansofhisfillingmyearsashe

comes.

Fuck,it'shotinhere.Blackwasapoorchoice.EvenifthisdressisthesexiestthingIown.Evenif

it'swhatIwaswearingthatnightwhenTomandIhadsexandtheworldfinallymadesenseagain.

Mycheeksflush.ButnotfromTom'swordsorhisproximity.No.There'sthisstrangefeelingin

my stomach. Someone is watching. I scan the room. Sure enough, Kara has her eyes on us. She's
talkingtoanolderwomaninasuit—mustbehermom—butshe'slookingatus.

Sheraisesabrow.
Ishrug,denyingwhateveritisshe'saccusingmeof.
Sheturnsbacktoherconversationpartnerandexcusesherselfgracefully.Shit,she'swalkingthis

way.

Tom nods a goodbye and makes himself scarce. As if that will help dampen the flames of

suspicion.Ohwell,Karaisn'tthetypetosnitch.EvenifherloyaltylieswithDrew.

Shegrabsaplateandfillsitwithgrapes."YouandTomarehangingoutalot."
Ipourmyselfalargeglassoffruitjuice."Whydoesthatfascinateeveryone?"
"Tomhasneverhungoutwithagirlinhislife.BesidesmeorMegandthat'sonlywhentheother

guysarearound."

Ishrug.Nothingtoseehereexceptagirlinaslinkyblackdressandfuckmeheelsdrinkingher

applejuice.

"I'llbewithyouguystherestofthetour."Shelooksmeintheeyes."Megtoo."
"Thatwillbefun."
She leans closer. "I'm on your side. Whatever you're doing and whatever you decide. Drew has

gottenbetterwithhis,ahem,cavemanviolence.Hehasgoodintentions,buthe'sespeciallyproneto
overreactingwhenitcomestoyou."

"Yeah."
"I don't think he'd kill Tom, but it could be ugly if it catches him off guard. Do you understand

me?"

"Yes." I understand her, and I understand Pete. I understand that I am somehow responsible for

Drew's inability to accept that I am an adult woman with desires. "With all due respect, Kara, Drew
freakingoutovermehavingconsensualsexisnotmyproblem."

Her eyes turn down. "I'm sorry. You're right. I don't have any siblings. I don't really know how

muchyouguystelleachother."Shepressherlipstogether."IworryaboutDrew.Hegetskindatense
dealingwiththecelebritythingforthreemonthsstraight.Iknowhedoesn'twantbethatguyeveryone
elseisonedgearound."

Iwillmyselftostayrighteous,butherconcernforDrewistouching.
"Asafavortome,becareful.Tellhimbeforesomeoneelsedoes,"shesays.
That'safairenoughrequest."Okay."
Hereyesgotomychest.Huh?Ismybrother'sgirlfriendcheckingmeout?That'stotallybizarre.
"You'rebrave,gettingatattooonyourchest,"shesays.
Oh.Thatmakesmoresense."Thankyou.Itfeltright,gettingitovermyheart."
"Itlooksgreat."Shelowershervoice."CanIaskyousomethingcompletelyinappropriate?"
Inod.
"HowisTom?I'vealwayswondered."
FirstPete,nowKara.Atthisrate,everyonewillknowTomandIarefuckingbytomorrownight.
"Sorry.Thatwasrude."Shetakesastepbackwards."Asgoodashiscockinesswouldsuggest?"
"You know how he plays like a crazy, frantic animal? And he pushes people around like he's a

wreckingball?"

Hereyesfillwithinterest.Shenodsgoon.
"Nothinglikethat."Itakealongsipofmydrink."He'stender.Attentive.I'msuresomeofitisthat

I...hehastobecarefulwithhisnewpiercing."

"Hiswhat?"

IwhisperaquickbreakdownofTom'spiecinginKara'sear.
"Holyfuck."Herhandgoestohermouth."Isthatgood?"
"Amazing."
"Neverwouldhaveguessed."
"Neverwouldhaveguessedwhat?"Drewstepsuptous.
He'swearingasuitandhishairisslickedback.Ihaven'tseenhiminasuitsincemyhighschool

graduation.Thatwasprobablythelasttimemyparents,Drew,andIwereallinthesameroom.

"Mmmm."Karatugsathissuitjacket."Icouldgetusedtoyouwearingthisthing."
"Youcan'tdistractme,Kendrick."
Shestrokeshistieasiftoprovehowthoroughlyshecandistracthim.Itworksremarkablywell.

Withinmoments,he'spanting.

Shelooksbacktome."Meetusforbrunchtomorrow.Aroundnoon.I'lltextyoutheaddress."
"Youstayinghere,Wil?"Drewbarelygetsthewordsout.
Okay.It'sasafeenoughtimetoteasehim."No,I'mgoingtopickupsomeguyandgobacktohis

place."

"Veryfunny."Hegrowls.
Karasucksonhisearlobeandthegrowlturnsintoapurr.
Shereleaseshimandpusheshimtowardstheaction."Excuseus."
Hefollowsherlikeapuppyfollowinghisowner.
God,they'recute.It'sremarkablehowgoodsheisforhim.Drewisadifferentpersonaroundher.

Not the sullen, quick to anger loner who avoids everything besides his guitar, but a guy who cares
abouthisfriends.Ihopeshesaysyes.Ican'timaginehimeverbeingokaywithouther.

MygazegoestoTom.Acollege-agedwoman,mustbeoneofKara'sfriends,gushesathim.She

squeezeshisarmandmystomachclenches.He'salreadygotmyheart.Butishegoingtosmashitor
pieceitbacktogether?

His eyes catch mine. He motions to the stairs as if to suggest should we? God, am I tempted. I

shakemyheadnoanywayandtrymybesttomingle.

Kara's friends are nice but I'm not really the party type. After a solid hour of introductions and

smalltalk,Ifindaseatonthecouchbymyself.It'sbright.Sometimeinthemid-afternoon.Ileanback
andsoakinthesun.Onlysomuchgetsthroughthewindows.Well,Drewwouldn'twantmetohold
back.Iunlockthedoortothebackyardandstepoutside.

Thesmallpoolshinesinabrilliantshadeofaqua.Isitdown,slideoutofmyheels,anddipmy

toesinthewater.

Deep breaths do nothing to clear my head. My feelings for Tom already go far beyond like.

There'snorushtolabelthings.Intheory.We'remonogamous.We'llbetogether,moreorless,therest
ofthetour.AndIcangowhereverIwantafterthat.IcanevensetupastudioinLosAngeles.

There'snoreasonwhyIneedalabel,butIwantone.Myfeelingsburnaholethroughmygut.He

mightneverloveme.WhenIgivehimmyheart,hemightsmashitintoamillionlittlepieces.

Therearefootstepscomingtowardsme.ThenTom'svoice.
"Hey,kid.Coolingoff?"
"Yeah."
"Drew and Kara left a while ago." He sits next to me and runs a hand through my hair. "I

convincedPetetotakeacabbackhome."

"Oh."
"Youwanttogooutoryouwanttogobacktomyplace?"
IpushmyselftoaseatedpositionandlookTomintheeyes.Allthosefeelingswellupinsideme.

ButI'mnotreadytohandovermyheartyet.Notrightnow.

Rightnow,I'monlygivinghimmybody.
"Depends,"Isay.
"On?"
"Doyoureallywearaspeedo?"
"Better."
Islideintomyshoesandpushmyselftomyfeet."That,Ihavetosee."

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

Thatismuchbetterthanaspeedo.

IleanbackinmyloungechairsoIcangawkproperly.Thesoftorangeglowofsunsetfallsover

Tom's shaggy hair, his broad shoulders, his sculpted abs, the tiny scrap of fabric posing as a
swimsuit.Athongswimsuit.

Heturnstoshowoffhistonedass.He'slikeasculpture,allhardanddefined.Andhe'sondisplay

forme.

"Doyouwearthatinpublic?"Mywordsarepunctuatedwithdeepsighsofpleasure.It'shardto

talkwhenhe'swearingsuchasmallamountofclothing.There'snowayhedonsthatonthebeach.It
wouldcauseamobscene.Evenwithouthiscelebrity.

"Ihave."
"Didyougetarrested?"
"No."Hetakesasteptowardsme."Garneredalotofattention."
"I'llbet."
"Willow,myeyesareuphere."
"Uh-huh."Mygazestaysgluedtotheso-calledswimsuit.Whydomenwearboardshorts?Thisis

muchbetterthanapairofboardshorts.

"You'regoingtomakemefeellikeapieceofmeat."
"I'mavegetarian."
"Notsurethat'srelevant,kid."
Finally, I look up into Tom's gorgeous green eyes. They're wide, enthusiastic. He delights in

teasingme.Can'tsayIhaveanycauseforcomplaint.

Imanagetoholdhisgaze."Ifyouwereapieceofmeat,Iwouldn'tbeinterested."
"Isthatso?"
Inod."Ilo—likeyouforyourpersonality."
"Ididn'trealizemypersonalitywasbetweenmylegs."
Ilaugh."Notmanypeopledo."
"Isthatwhereyourpersonalityis?"
Inod.
Hekneelsinfrontofmyloungechairandpullsmylegstowardstheedge."Betterinvestigatethis

claim."

Herunshisfingeruptheinsideofmycalf,slowingashereachesmyinnerthigh.Mybodyhums

fromhistouch.Idon'tstandachance.

Tompushesmyskirtupmythighs,oneinchatatime."Youaren'twearingpanties."Hepushesthe

skirttomywaist."Fuck,Iloveitwhenyou'renaughty."Henibblesonmyinnerthigh.

Hemovescloser.Closer.Sofuckingclosebutnotquitethere.Yes.ThisisexactlywhatIneed.No

thinking.Notomorrow.Justhisbodyandminecreatingalighteningstormofpleasure.

Idigmyhandsintohishair."Please."
"Sayitagain."
"Please,Tom.Ineedyou."
Somuchforjustourbodies.Thefeelingcrashesintome.Ineedhim.Ineedhimeverywayit's

possibletoneedaperson.

Ilovehim.
Easytolovesomeonewhenhisheadisplantedbetweenyourlegs,butIdon'thaveasingledoubt

I'llfeelthesamewaytomorrow.

Ireachforsomethingthatwon'toverwhelmme."WhatifPetecomeshome?"
"Hewon't."
"Butwhatifhedoes?"
"Hewon't.Butifhedoesthenhe'llseememakingyoucome.Hmm..."Hepushesmydressupmy

torsoandovermyhead."Let'stryforthreetimes.""

"Rightnow?"
"Unlessthatgetsinthewayofyourplans."Heflickshistongueagainstmynipple."Wecantake

thistomyroomifyou'refeelingshy."

"Tom,I—"Ibitemytongue.Nope.Notsayingthatyet.Notwithusnearlynaked."Ineedyou."
Hegroansintomyskin.Hiskisseslower.Lower.Thenhismouthisonme.Pleasurespreadsto

my fingers and toes. I'm already so keyed up I want to scream. I'm not sure how I'll survive three
orgasmsbutI'mmorethangametotry.

Ipressmyfingersagainstthebackofhishead,spreadingmylegstogivehimasmuchaccessas

heneeds.Theintimacyofitoverwhelmsme.We'reclose.It'slikeIreallyamgivingmyselftohim.

Heworkshiswayupmysex,plantsonefeatherlightflickagainstmyclit,thenbacktothebottom

tostartagain.Andagain.Andagain.Ilosetrackafterten.I'malreadythrobbingwithdesire.

"Tom,please."Irockmyhipstopressagainsthisface."Ineedtocome."
Heteasesagain.Again.Three.Four.Thenhistongueisonmyclit.Nomoreteasing.Heworksme

withhard,faststrokes.

Isqueezehisshouldersandhegoesharder.Faster.
"Yes,"Ibreathe."Pleasedon'tstop."
He licks me again and again. Until the pressure in my core knots tight and unfurls in a deep,

intenseorgasm.IgroanhisnameagainandagainasIcome.

Tomdragshislipsupanddownmyinnerthighs.Mywholebodyshudderswithaftershakes.I'm

sofuckingsensitivethathisteethscrapingagainstmyskinisenoughtomakemegroan.

Andthenhe'slickingmeagain.Irelaxintotheloungechair,spreadingmylegswider.Forasplit

second, my eyes flutter open. Everything about this is fucking beautiful. The light of the sunset
dancingoffthepool.Thecleanconcrete.Theflowersthatlinethebackyard.Thealmost-a-mansion
housebehindus.

Tomlooksupatme,thisdeliciousmixofdesireandmischiefandsatisfactioninhiseyes.
Mylidspresstogether.It'stoomuchtotake.TherestoftheworldfallsawayuntilI'mnothingbut

thepleasurebuildinginsideme.MoreandmoreuntilIoverflowwithanotherorgasm.

This time, Tom doesn't relent. He sucks on my clit until I'm screaming. I dig my hands into his

hairasheworksme.It'sintense.Almosttoointense.Butnotquite.

Myorgasmishardandfast.Oneknotoftension,thenit'sallunraveling,flowingthroughme.
Ipullhimoffbythehair.Iexpectacomplaintbuthesmileswiththeprideofajobwelldone.
"Threeseemedaboutright."Hepresseshislipsagainstmyknee.
"You'reamazing."Isinkintothechair,stilllostinadazeofbliss.
"Iknow."Hekisseshiswaydownmyshin,overmyfoot."Comeon.Ineedtogetwet."
"I'mnotsureIcantakeanymoresensation."
Iprymyeyelidsapart.WhenIlookbacktoTom,he'salreadygone.Inthepool
Hisswimsuitontheconcrete.

***

Weswimincirclesasthesunsets.Orangebleedsacrossthesky,castingthehouseinabeautifulglow.
Itsinkslower,theskygoesred,thenthesunisgone,swallowedupbythehorizon,andeverythingisa

sereneshadeofindigo.

It'squiethere.MuchmorequietthanwhatIimagined.
Tom slides his arms around me. We're still naked, and he's still as sexy as the day is long, but

there'smoretothegesturethanheat.There'saffection.Love.

The words already want out of my throat. But I can't say them now, not with all this weight

hanging around his shoulders. I press my eyelids together and soak in the feeling of Tom's chest
againstmyback,hisneckagainstmycheek.Hisskinissoftbuthismusclesarehard.Icanfeelthem
flexingagainstmeasheshiftshisweight,ashebreathes.

Lovemightchasehimaway.Mightendthisforgood.AndthenI'llhavetospendthenextmonthas

miserableasIwasatthelastshow.ThepicturesItookweretotalshit.Ican'tdothat.Ican'twastethis
opportunity.

Okay,I'mscared.I'mlookingforexcuses.I'mtheonewhotoldhimthisrelationshipwasworth

theriskofgettinghurt.Maybethewordscanwait.Maybetheydon'tmatterasmuchasbeingwithhim.

"You'reoffsomeplace,"Tomsays."Goodorbad?"
Both.Iturnaroundandstareintohisgorgeousgreeneyes.Canmygazesayitforme?Itry.Ilove

you.Nothinginhisexpressionchanges.It'sthatsameintenseaffection.

Screw the eyes. I let my lids flutter together and raise to my tip toes to kiss him. His lips are

chappedfromswimmingallafternoon.Hetasteslikechlorine.AndlikeTom.

Hiskissisthatsameintenseaffection.Whenitbreaks,Icanbarelybreathe.Thatwasn'tenough.I

needtotellhim.Iloveyou,Tom.Ipracticeitinmyhead,butIcan'tdoit.Nottoday.

Nottomorrow.
Notuntilafterheknowswhetherornothismomisgoingtobeokay.
It'sanexcuse,Iknow,butitfeelsright.
Tomcupsmycheek."Youhungry?"
"Yeah."NowthatIthinkaboutit,I'mstarving.
He leads me to the pool's steps and helps me out. "Let's order something. You want Indian or

Thai?"

"Let'scook."
"Not sure we have much actual food. Mostly it's snacks. There hasn't been much cooking since

MilesandDrewmovedout."

"Theyusedtolivehere?"
"Yeah."Tomleadsmeintothekitchen.Henodstotheceilingabovethefridge."Technically,that's

stillMiles'sroom."Hepointstotheceilingontheothersideoftheroom."Andthat'sstillDrew's.Our
labelrentedthisplaceforuswaybackwhen.Whoeverwasinchargeofkickingusoutforgottodo
it."

"Youlivehererentfree?"Iask.
Hewrapshisarmsaroundme."Yeah."
"Damn.Rockstarsgetallthebreaks."
"Youcanstayhere.IfyoudecidetomovetoLosAngelesafterthetour."
Ilookupintohiseyes."Really?"
"Yeah...tillyoufindyourownplace."
Oh. I don't expect him to invite me to move in with him. We've only been in a not even official

relationshipforafewdays.

Ibreakhishug.Damn,whereismydress?Ican'thavethisconversationnaked.Iexcusemyselfto

thelivingroom,findmysuitcase,andchangeintothefirstacceptableoutfitIcanputtogether—askirt
andatanktop,underwearbutnobra.

Tomfollowsmeintothelivingroom.Heleansagainstthewall,utterlycomfortablewithhislack

ofclothing,andstaresatme.

"What'sgoingon,kid?Whatareyouthinking?"
"You'renaked."
"Icanseehowthatwouldbedistracting."
Yes,that'sit.I'mdistracted.Nothingmore.Inod.
"Askingmetoputonmyclothesforonce.That'snew."Hislipscurlintoasmile."Butanything

foryou."

He'steasing.Themoodislight.Ican'truinthat.ItfeelsgoodjokingwithTom.Everythingwith

Tomfeelsgood.

God,Ilovehimsomuch.Iteclipseseverything.
Tom'seyesconnectwithmine.Hisgazeispenetrating.MaybeIwaswrongaboutmyeyes.Maybe

hecanseehowmuchIlovehim.

"Yousureyou'reokay?"heasks.
Inod.
He accepts my answer and makes his way upstairs to dress. I use the time to dig through the

kitchen. It's clean and stocked with pots, pans, oils, spices. Aside from a little fruit and several
differentkindsofdairyandnon-dairymilk,there'snothinginthewayoffreshfood.We'llhavetogo
tothestoreifwewanttocookanythingbeyondaTVdinner.

Tom'sfootstepsmaketheirwaydownthestairs,acrossthelivingroom.
"Hey."Hepresseshispalmsagainstthekitchencounter."Whatdoyouwanttocook?"
"Youdon'thaveanyfoodhere."
"There'saplaceatthebottomofthehill.Wecangetwhateveryouneed."
Ineedyou.Inod.Okay."Pasta."
"Whatkind?"
"Withtomatoes.Andgarlic.Pastapomodoro."IstareintoTom'seyes."Ineedtohaveit.Ineedto

cookitwithyou.Ineedustohaveittogether."

"Sure."
"No,Tom,I..."Iloveyou."Youdon'tunderstand.I...Ilove...Ilovepasta.Ican'tlivewithoutit.I

hategoingasingledaywithoutit."

Hestaresbackatme.Understandingfillshiseyes."Ilovepasta,too."
"Yeah?"
Hisexpressionsoftens."Yeah,butI'venevermadeapointofeatingitregularly.Ofplanninglike

that.Arrangingmylifearoundanything."

"Tom,I..."
Hetakesmyhandsandpullsmeintoaslow,deepkiss.It'sthereinthewayhekissesme.Neither

oneofuscansaythewords,butrightnow,Ifeelthem.

Whenourkissbreaks,hepullsmeintoatighthug,presseshispalmagainstthebackofmyhead,

holdingmeagainsthischest.

"I'venever...madepastabefore,"hesays."NotsureifIcan."
"That'sokay.Wecanlearntogether."

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

There are eight million kinds of pasta at the natural foods store nearest Tom's place. He teases me
aboutmyindecisionovernoodletypes.

"Thereisarecipeforpastapomodoro."Heholdsuphisphonetoshowoffsaidrecipe."Wecan

followit."

Ishakemyhead."Icookfromtheheart."
"Thenleadtheway,MistressChef."
Okay.Icandothis.Freshspaghettiworks.Westillneedbasil,garlic,tomatoes.
IleadTomtotheproducesectionandtakemytimepickingoutingredients.Hehangsbythecart,

watchingmewithawidesmile.

Thiscouldbeournormal.Wecouldlivetogether,gogroceryshoppingeveryTuesdaynight,sit

at the table planning a menu together. It wouldn't have to be fancy. It could be half TV dinners and
takeout,butitwouldbeours.

Igetcaughtupinthefantasyofalifewithhimaswemakeourwaytotheregister,tothecar,back

uptohisplace.

I'mnotexactlyanexpertchef,butIdomybesttotakehimthroughthedishstepbystep.Boilthe

noodles and set them aside. Coat the heated pan with olive oil, add minced garlic, tomatoes, pasta,
basil.Everyfewminutes,hestopstopullmeintoakiss,towhispersomethinginmyear,toteaseme
aboutbeingbossy.

Hemakesasalad.Setsthetable.It'sfuckingnormal,havingdinnerwithTom,likearealcouple.

Likethisisforever.

Afterwefinisheating,wecuddleuponthecouch.It'shisideatowatchRomanHoliday.Heholds

metheentiretime,buthekeepshisattentiononthefilm.

It's overwhelming how good this feels. I don't snap out of my trance until I'm in the bathroom

afterthemovie,splashingcoolwateronmyfaceinthehopesoffindingclarity.

Thiscanbeforever.
Thisneedstobeforever.

***

WhenIgetbacktothelivingroom,Tomisgone.

His clothes are not. There's one shoe on the couch. Another in front of the stairs. A sock a few

stepsaboveit.Ifollowhisgarmentsallthewayupthestairsanddownthehallway,totheopendoor
ofabedroom.

Mannersfirst.Iknock.
"Yes?"heasks.
"MayIcomein?"
"Pleasedo."
WhenIgotopushthedooropenitgetsstuckonsomething.Apairofboxers.Oh.Hemustbe...
He'ssittingonhisbednaked.
It shouldn't be this remarkable given how many times we've been together but it is. He's

magnificent.

Heholdsuphishandtoshowoffsomethinghotpink.
Thevibrator.
"Wasn'tthatinmysuitcase?"Iask.
Henods."Wantedtouseitonyou."

Ibitemylip.Thatisawonderfulideabutinvadingmyprivacyisunacceptable."Tom,I—"
"Don'tappreciatemelookingthroughyourstuff?"
Inod.
"Wasthinkingwithmycock.Won'tdoitagain."
That'sit?He'snotobjectingorcallingmeridiculousorinsistingitwasformyowngood.He's

justrespectingmyboundaryandmovingon.

Somehow, I manage to pull my eyes away from his body to take in the room. It's so Tom. Just

flashyenoughwithadiscoballontheceiling,asleekmodernarmchairinthecorner,stardecalsall
overthewalls.

"Youthinkthat'ssomething.Lookatthis."Hereachesforthesidetableandpressesabutton.
Thelightsturnoffexceptfortheoneonthediscoball.Thestardecalsglowinthesemi-dark.An

R&Bslowjamplays.

Tomtugsatsomethingtiedtothesleekwhiteheadboard—bondagerestraints.
IalmosttripovermyfeetandI'mstandingstill.
Hesmiles."Youokay,kid?"
"You'reintobondage?"
"Fromtimetotime."
"Youtieduporyoutyingup?"
"Eitherway.I'mgameforalmostanything."Hepatsthespotnexttohim."Aslongasyou'reinto

it."

"Idon'tknowaboutthose."
"That'sallright.It'snotmymainthing."Hepusheshimselfoffthebedandslideshisarmsaround

me.

"What'syourmainthing?"
"Makingyoucome."
Isqueezehim.It'stheonlywaytobalance."Mespecifically?"
Henods."I'veneverbeenwithsomebodyIcaredaboutbefore.It'sdifferent.Better."
Mycheeksflush.Mywholefuckingbodyisonfire.Iuntanglemyselffromhisarmsandplanton

thebed.NowIdon'thavetobalance.Buttheseclothesaredamnconfining.

Tomsitsnexttome.HepullsmeontohislapsoI'mstraddlinghimandpushesthestrapsofmy

topoffmyshoulders."Ifyoudon'twanttousethevibrator,tellme.I'llgetyousomethingelse."He
runshisfingertipsovermythighs."MyhandsareatyourdisposalatthemomentbutI'mafraidIcan't
letyoutakethemhomewithyou."

"No,Ido."
"Haveyoubeenusingit?"
Ishakemyhead."Justmyhands."
Heunhooksmybra."Didyouthinkaboutme?"
"Yes."Alot."Haveyouthoughtofme?"
"Haven'thadtoomanychancestofuckmyselfbutIthoughtofyoueverytime."Hepullsmytop

overmyhead.Pushesmyskirtoffmyhips."I'veneverwantedanyonethewayIwantyou."

"Never?You'vebeenwithalotofwomen."
"Barelycaredenoughtolearntheirnames."Helaysmeflatonmybackandslidesmypantiesto

my feet. "Never been with anyone more than three nights. Usually bored by the second. It's not as
awfulasitsounds.Alwaysmakesureawomanenjoysherself—"

"Youdon'thavetoapologizeforyoursluttypast."
"Itdoesn'tbugyou?"
"No.Thepastdoesn'tmatterunlessit'sstillhauntingyou."

He brings his body next to mine. His mouth to my ear. "Then why is there a sad look in your

eyes?"

"Idon'twanttotalkaboutit."
"ThenI'mnotgonnafuckyou."
I take a deep breath. I can't explain all of it. Not yet. "I know this might not work out but I'll be

crushedifit'sbecauseyougetboredofme."

"Couldn't."Tomtakesthecylindricalvibratorandwrapsmyhandsaroundthehandle.
"Howdoyouknow?"
"Somethingsyoujustknow."
Iswallowhard.
He presses his lips against my neck and props himself up beside me. "You should be more

concernedaboutwakingupandrealizingI'mnogood."

I stare back into his eyes. How can he believe that? "Is there any way I can convince you that

you'rewrong?"

"Comeforme."
Ilaugh."WhydoIgetthefeelingI'mbeingmanipulated?"
Histhumbpressesagainstabuttonandthedeviceroarson."Youare.Doitanyway."
"Ifyouadmityou'reagoodperson."
"Agoodfuck."
"Agoodguy."
Helooksmeintheeyes."You'dreallyrathergetmetoadmitI'magoodguythancome?"
Inod.
Herunshisfingersovermyjaw."Icanseethat,throughyoureyes,Iamagoodguy.That'sall

you'regetting."Hedragshishandsovermyneckandbetweenmybreasts."Now,Iwanttowatchyou
enjoyyourgift."

"Soundsmorelikeagiftforyou."
Hepinchesmynipplegently.
Lustshootsstraighttomycore.Isighwithneed."Please."
Hegroans."Neverstopsayingitlikethat."
Thisisanicegift.Butit'snotwhatIwant.TomiswhatIwant,andI'mnotaboveusingthetoolsat

mydisposal."Pleasefuckme."

"After."
"Please."
Hesucksonmyearlobe."Ifyou'renotfeelingit,I'lltakeover."
"Please,"Ibreathe.
Heletsoutalowgroanbutstaysputonhisside,watchingoverme.
Itakeadeepbreath,unsurehowtopositionmyself.I'veneverbeenaperformer.Certainlynever

masturbatedforsomeone'sviewingpleasure.Ipressmylidstogetherasmylegssplayopen.Okay.I'll
trythetoy.

Noteasing.Ipressthevibratoragainstmyclit.Damn.It'sintense.Pleasureshootsthroughme.
Tomiswatchingwithsuchraptattention.Itdoessomethingtome.Ifeeliteverywhere.
I try to hold his gaze, but between the vibrator and all the need in his eyes, it's too much. My

eyelidspresstogether.IreachforTom.Gettheshoulder.

Idragmyhanddownhismusculararm,allthewaytohiswrist,andIplacehishandovermine.

"Pleasetakeover."

Hegroansasheshiftsintopositionbehindme.Hischestpressesagainstmyback.Hishardcock

presses against the flesh of my ass. Desire shoots through me. I need our bodies joining. I need

intimacywithhimhoweverIcangetit.

Tom holds my body against his with one hand. With the other, he takes the vibrator and runs it

overmyclit.Themotionsofthemachinearethesamebutitfeelsbetterwhenit'shishand,whenit's
ustogether.

Tensionbuildsbetweenmylegs.Notyet.Ishiftmycrotchbacktobreakcontactwiththedevice.

"Please,Tom.IwantyouinsidemewhenIcome."

"Fuckyes."
In one smooth motion, he lifts my leg and thrusts into me. I'm putty in his hands, only moving

whenhedirectsme.

Hekeepsthevibratorpressedagainstmyclitashethrustsintome.It'sharderandfasterthanit's

beenbefore.He'sasdesperateasIam.

Sensation overwhelms me. I stay pressed against him, melted around him. The room is disco

lightsandR&Bbutmostlyit'sourbreathandourmoansandthesweetsoundofhisbodypounding
intomine.

Anorgasmrisesupinsideme."Tom,"IgroanasIcome.Mysexpulsesaroundhim,pullinghim

closer.

Hedoesn'tchangeathing.Hethrustsintomewithdeep,steadystrokes.Againandagain.Thetoy

stays pressed against me with the most delightful buzz. Within moments, I'm coming again. My
spasmsaresointenseIforgettobreathe.ItfeelslikeI'mgoingtopushhimoutofmybody.Buthe
onlymovesdeeper.Closer.

"Youfeelsofuckinggood,"hegroansintomyear.
Igasp.It'stheonlythingIcando.
"Toomuch?"Hesucksonmyneck.
"Onemore."
Hemovesfaster.Harder.Hemovesthetoyawayforamoment.Damn,Ineedthebreak.Mybody

isalmostspentbutIcan'tgiveoutuntilIfeelhisrelease.Tom.God,Tom.Theworldfeelssoright
whenwe'repressedtogether.Sowrongwhenwe'reapart.

He brings the toy back to my clit. Waves of bliss shoot through me. I've only got a handful of

secondsbeforeI'mcomingagain.

"Notyet."Ipushthetoyaway."Iwantyoutocomewithme."
"Notsureyou'regonnamakeit."Heshiftsthevibratoraway."ButI'lltry."
Herepositionsourbodies,meflatonmystomach,mylegsspread,himontopofme.Hethrusts

intome.Hismouthgoestomyshouldersandneck,sucking,kissing,bitinggently.He'sstillattentive,
likehe'snevergoingtolosecontrol.

Afewmorethrusts,andI'mtooclosetothinkanythingatall.Ibitemylip,tryingtoholdoffmy

orgasm.It'snouse.Thetensionknots.It'stoomuch,toointense.Ineedtocome.Immediately.Iarch
myhipstomatchhismovements,topushhimdeeper.

There.MyorgasmisonehardpulseofpressureandthenI'munraveling.MylegsshakeasIcome.

Isqueezethesheets,screaminganythingthatwillfalloffmylips.Mostlyhisname.

Mybodygoesslack.Icollapse.Spent.
Tompresseshislipstomyear."Fuckwasthathot."Heshiftsoffme,lyingflatonhisback.
NowayI'mlettinghimgounfinished.
Ipushmyselfontomyhandsandkneesandbringmybodyoverhis.Iwrapmyhandaroundhis

cock."CanIhelpyouwiththisproblem?"

"Youdon'thavetobethatpolite,"hegroans.
"No?Doesn'tturnyouon—"Isuckonhisearlobeuntilhe'sgroaningandthrustingintomyhand.

"Tohearmeask,Tom,mayIpleasesuckyourcock?"

"Fuck,"hegroans."Sayitagain."
I'mtoowounduptogetself-conscious.Iwhisperinhisear."MayIpleasesuckyourcock?"
Hegroanssomethingcompletelyincomprehensible.
I kiss my way to his chest and stop to flick my tongue over his nipples. "Will you come in my

mouth?"

"Youwantmeto?"
"Please."
"You'regonnakillme."Hebringshishandstomyhair."God,yes."
I plant kisses down his torso. I've never enjoyed giving head before. Certainly never made a

specialrequest.ButIwanttomakeTomfeelasgoodasIdo.Iwanttobeincontrolofhispleasure.

Thepiercingisalittledaunting.Itakemytimegettingintoposition.Ipushhislegsapart,sitback

onmyheels,andpressonehandagainsthiship.OnceI'mconfidentinmyleverageandmybalance,I
lowermyselfcloser.

There. I wrap my hand around his cock and flick my tongue against his tip. He tastes like me.

Becausehefuckedmesothoroughly.Itspursmeon,butI'mnotfeelingmerciful.

Teasingearnsteasing.
Iflickmytongueagainsthim.Againandagain.Untilhe'sgroaningandclawingatthebed.Itry

different speeds. Faster. Slower. Harder. Softer. I lick my way around him, stopping to give his
piercing thorough attention. It's even more fun like this. He shudders whenever I flick my tongue
againstit.Heclawsatmyhair.Hisgroansaredesperateandneedy.

Still,Itease.IteaseuntilIcan'ttakeitanymore.
He sighs when I wrap my mouth around him. He presses his hand against the back of my head,

guiding me gently. I take him deeper. Deeper. When I can't take anymore, I use my hand like an
extensionofmymouth,strokinghim.

Idoitagain.Again.
"Harder,"hegroans.
God, the way that pleasure sounds on his lips. It echoes around the room, filling me with

satisfaction.

Isuckharder.Harder.Untilhegroansloudlyenoughtowakethepeopledownthestreet.Ikeepup

mymotionsuntilhishandsknotinmyhair.

Deepgroansescapehislips."I'mgonnacome."
Hetugsatmyhair.Gentlyatfirst.Thenroughenoughithurts.
IholdTominmymouthashecomes.He'ssaltyandsweetatonce.Ilikehiminmymouth,feeling

hisorgasm,tastingit.

Whenhe'sfinished,Ipushmyselfupandswallowhard.
There'saworldofwonderinhiseyes.Heblinks,dumbfounded.
Hepullsmeontothebedandwrapshisbodyaroundmine.Herunshisfingersthroughmyhair.

"Haven'tgotcarriedawayinalongtime."

"Ilikedit."Inestleintohisbody.
"Youknockedmeout.Onlyhaveaboutninetysecondsofconsciousnessleft."
"Sleep.YouhaveTCMandNetflix.I'llbeentertained."
IgotoshiftoffthebedbutTompullsmenexttohim.
Hewrapshisarmsaroundme,pullsmybodyintohis."Don'tgo."
"Okay."
"No."Hisvoiceissoft,mumbled,halfwaytosleep."Don'tleaveme."
"Iwon't."
"Youpromise?"

"Yeah."Ipressmylipsintohisforehead."Ipromise."
Withinminutes,hismusclesgoslack,hisbreathingslows.He'sasleep.Iclosemyeyesandletmy

bodyfindslumber.

Thiscouldbemylife.
Itreallycouldbethisperfect.

CHAPTERTHIRTY

Iwaketoanemptyhouse.Thegloryofthisplaceisutterlylostonme.Thesunshine,thewarmair,the
crystalclearaquapool—it'salllostonme.Icanbarelysmellthechlorine.Barelytastemycoffee.It's
notthathe'sgone.Notexactly.

Hemustbeworried.Scared.Mystomachrefusestosettle.I'mscaredforhim.Ishoothimthemost

low-keyI'mabsolutelynotcheckingonyoutextIcanmuster.

Willow:Hey.Howiseverything?Callmeifyouneedtotalk.
Noresponse.
NoresponsewhileIkilltimewatchingamovie.
No response when I dress, pack my suitcase, and take an Uber to Kara and Drew's brunch spot.

They're both ecstatic when they arrive. Kara takes every opportunity to show off her engagement
ring.Butshe'smuchmoreexcitedbythefreshinkonhershoulder.Akey.AndDrewhasthematching
lockonhisshoulder.Whentheypressagainsteachother,thekeyandthelockconnect.

AndhereIthoughttheycouldn'tgetmoreadorable.
Imusterupenoughenthusiasmtheydon'tinterrogatemymood.Don'tgetmewrong.I'mhappy

forthem.It'sjusthardforthehappinesstogetthroughallthedreadinmygut.ForTomorbecauseof
him?TheonlythingI'msureofishowmuchIneedhim.

Drew and Kara spend the entire day showing off Santa Monica, Venice Beach, and Marina Del

Rey.Theloosecollectionofcitieswestofthe405iscalledtheWestsideandit'sbeautiful.Everything
isclean.Thesunshinesbiginthebrightbluesky.Theairtastesofsalt.Thebreezeblowsoverthe
streets,temperingtheheat.

Evenwithallthenervesinmystomach,Ifallforthecity.Iwanttobehere.Nearmybrotherand

allthepeoplewhoarebecomingmyfriends.

It'stheperfectplacetosetupastudio.
ButnotifthingsgetmessierwithTom.
Stillnoresponse.
Stillnoresponseatdinner.
Orwhenwegeticecreamafter.
Or when we go back to Drew's place and pick out classic romance Sabrina from the many

streaming options. My brother, the good fiancé. He doesn't object to watching something about
feelings.

Halfwaythroughthemovie,myphonebuzzesinmypocket.Inearlyjumpoutofmyseat.
Tom: Results are inconclusive. Mom has to have another test in a few weeks. It should be right

afterwefinishthetour.

Willow:Areyouokay?
Tom:Yeah.Youalone?
Willow:WithDrewandKara.
Tom:Toobad.Iwasgoingtosendyouanaughtypicture.
Willow:Doitanyway.Please.
Tom:Thinkingaboutit.
Willow:Theygotacouple'stattoo.It'sdisgustinglycute.
Tom:Tsk.Tsk.Youshouldbehappyforyourbrother,kid.
Willow:Iam.
Tom:Wouldyouevergetacouple'stattoo?
Willow:Withyouorwithsomeoneelse?

Tom:WithBradPitt.Ofcoursewithme.
Willow:Depends.
Tom:On?
Willow:Ifthisisforeverornot.
Drewclearshisthroat."It'srudetotextduringthemovie,Wil."
Karawhisperssomethinginhisear,capturingallhisattention."Ifyouwantsomeprivacy,youcan

takethespareroom,sweetie."Shemotionsupstairs."Justignoretheguitars.Infact,ifoneislyingon
thefloor,goaheadandkickit."

"Insolenttoday,Kendrick.I'mgonnahavetopunishyouforthat."Hewhispersinherear.
Shelaughs.
Yes, privacy sounds like a capital idea. For them as much as for me. It must be nice, loving

someonethatopenlyandhonestly.

"Yeah.Thanks."Ipushmyselfoffthecouch.Sorry,HumphreyBogartbutyou'vegotnothingon

TomSteele.

Idon'tlookatmyphoneuntilI'maloneinthespareroom,mybackpressedagainstthedoorfor

extrasecurity.

Tomhasn'trepliedtomynotquiteaquestion.Notwithwords.
Theonlythingonmyphoneisapicturemessage:
Him,fromtheneckdown,completelynaked.
Somuchforthinkinganythingbesidesohhellyesfortherestofthenight.

***

TomandItalkaboutnothingforhours.

Thenextday,we'rebackontheroad,onthetour.ThebusislouderwithMegandKaraaround.

Butsometimesit'snot.Sometimesit'squieter,sometimesoneofthehappycouplesgoesofftoabunk
ortothebedroomandsoaksinthegloryofjustbeingtogether.

AndIsitwithTom,closeenoughtofeelallthewarmthofhimbutnotcloseenoughthatIhaveto

explainthistoanyone,andsoakinthegloryofbeingwithhim.

Igetlostintherhythmofthetour.Hazelworksmehard.Everynightwe'restopped,shehasanew

projectthatrequiresmyassistance.Shetalkstomeaboutmyinterestinastudio,guidesmethrough
myoptions.EncouragesmyboudoiraspirationsenoughthatIactuallymanagetodoashootwitha
model.Then it's two.Then three. Thenhalf a dozen. Littleby little, Iget comfortable working with
strangers.

Igoonaphotographytear.Whenwe'restoppedwithnothingtodo,Itakeheadshotsorportraits

ofanyonewhowillgetinfrontofthecamera.

Thepicturesaregood.
Reallygood.
LikeIcanreallydothis.
LikemylifecouldreallybesettingupastudioinLosAngeles,nearTom,neareveryone.
Ifhelovesmetoo.
Ifthisisforever.
There are too many possibilities, and I don't get much of him. There's always someone around.

I'mtired.He'sbusytryingtocatchuponallthestuffhedoesbesidesplayingthedrumslikeaGod
damnmachine.We'retwoshipspassinginthenight,barelytimeforakissorahugoranoccasional
screwinmyhotelroom,lateatnight,aftereveryoneisasleep.

Thedaysblurtogether.Twoweeks.Thenthree.WecurvearoundtheSouthWest.Thenwe'rein

SanDiego.

Todayisthelastshow.ThelastdayofknowingwhereI'mgoingtobeorwhatI'mgoingtodo.
NowIhavetofigureoutwhatthehellI'mdoingwithmyphotography.
WithTom.
Withtherestofmylife.

***

Theguysaremorerelaxedtonight.Itisarelief,knowingthisisthelastshowforawhile.Can'tsay
that I spend much time taking in Pete, Drew, or Miles's mood. Behind the camera, the world makes
sense.MyfeelingsforTomdon'toverwhelmme.EvenwhenI'mphotographinghim.He'sanamazing
subject.Thislookofconcentrationspreadsoverhisfaceasheloseshimselfinthemusic.Hisarms
flailwithfreneticenergy.Butthey'reprecise.Exact.Sweatdripsoffhistorso.Duringabreakinthe
set,hestandsandjoinsMilesatthemic.Mostlytoshowoffhisbody.SometogoadDrewandPete
outoftheirclothes.

Itworks!Itneverworks.Petereallyisattractive.IcanseewhyHazelteases.Hisbodyiseasilyas

goodasTom's.Thecurvinglinesofatattoopeekoutfromthewaistofhisskinnyjeans.It'snotjusta
thightattoo.It'soverhishiptoo.

That'syummy.
Ispendalmostawholetensecondslookingatsomethingthatisn'tTom.
Can't say I'm particularly moved by my brother stripping. But I know other women will be.

Especially with the way he's blushing. I capture his awkwardness. And the way the audience groans
withadorationwhenheshowsoffhisnewtattoo.

The show blurs together. I get lost in my photography. The concert thing gets old, night after

night,butthere'ssomethingamazingaboutcapturingtheenergy,themood,thefacialexpressions.

I snap out of my trance in time for the encore. Thank God we're almost done with this touring

thing.I'mexhausted.Ibarelyheartheoutro,theguyssoakingintheadorationoftheaudience.

Theymakeadramaticexit.Thelightsgodown.
Andthat'sit.Show'sover.Ican'thidebehindmycameraanymore.Ican'tthrowallmyenergyinto

survivingthetouranymore.

IhavetofigureoutwhatthehellI'mdoingwithmylife.
Hell,IhavetofigureoutwhatI'mdoingtomorrow.It'sOphelia'stest.AndI'mstillnotsureifI'm

invited.Everytimeitcomesup,TomandIendupoutofourclothesbeforewecandiscussit.

Thankfully, Hazel demands my presence immediately. I take one last look at the sweaty crowd

leavingthepackedvenue—it'sbeenahellofaride—andmakemywaytoherbackstageeditingnook.

"You'vecomealongway,Willow."Shecomparesasetofpicturesfromourfirstshowtoaset

fromlastnight'sshow."Howdoyoufeel?"

"Exhausted."
"Don't tell me you're skipping the end of tour party." She hooks up my camera and uploads the

pictures.Hereyesstayonthecomputer."You'retooyoungtohide."

"I'mnothidingfromanything."
"Hmm."
Hazeltakesmethroughtheevening'sset.Shepointsoutherfavoritesandgivesmetipsonplaces

to improve. Then we do the same with her photos. She's taken half as many pictures but there are
twiceasmanykeepers.Oneday,I'llbethatgood.

"Showmesomeofyourpersonalprojects,sweetheart."Shenodstomycamera."EverytimeIsee

you, you look exhausted. Tell me it's because you're busy shooting pictures and not because you're
sleepingoffhangovers."

"Idon'treallydrink.Butthere'snothingonmycamera.Iwipedmymemorycardlastnight.Here."

I take over on the computer and show off a Dropbox folder of my recent portraits. It's a mix of
standardactorheadshots,moodyeditorialpieces,andahellofalotofboudoir.

"Thesearefantastic."ShepointstoaheadshotofPetewithamysteriouslookonhisface."Ican

admitmybiastowardsthesubject,butyou'llgetactorsknockingdownyourdoorifyoucangetPete
toshowoffthismuchemotion."Shenavigatestoasweetyetsultryboudoirshootofaninexperienced
model."Youcapturedhershynesswithoutlettingitbleedintofearorinsecurity.Thisisgreatwork."

"Thankyou."
"Ihaveanofferforyou.Ajob."
"What?"
"Intwoweeks,I'mdoingthisalloveragainwithanotherband.Thetourwillbesixmonthswitha

fewbreaks.I'llspendmostofthosedoingeditorialwork.I'dlovetohaveyouasmyassistantagain."

HazelAlexanderwantsmetocontinueasherassistant.It'sthemostflatteringthingI'veeverheard.

Butsixmonthsisalongtimeawayfromeverything.FromTom.IfthereisevenameandTomafterI
tellhimhowIfeel.

"I understand if you've had enough of the rock star lifestyle," she says. "But I can bump your

salarybyaboutfiftypercent."

"CanIthinkaboutit?"
"Let me know by the end of the week. Whatever you do, you'll do great." She looks away at

something."Justmakesureit'swhatyouwant.Menneverputtheirambitionsasideforyou."

"Huh?"
Shemotionstosomethingbehindme.Tomisleaningagainstthewall.
Henodshello,notatallshyaboutspying.
"Enjoytheparty."HazelnodsgoodbyetoTom,packsuphercomputer,andtakesthebackexit.
Oncewe'realone,Tomslideshisarmsaroundme.Hesmellsgood.Hishairiswet.Hisshirtisn't

hisusualsweaty,discardedv-neckbutasleekwhitebutton-upthing.Heshoweredandchanged.For
me.

"Neverbeenthisexcitedforatourtoend."Hepresseshislipstomine."Ihaven'thadenoughof

you."

"Me either." The need inside me pours into him as I kiss back. God, he tastes good. I break our

kissandburymyfaceinhischest."Weshouldn'tbemakingouthere."

"Can'thelpmyself."Hisvoiceisbreathy,needy."WhatwereyouandHazeltalkingabout?"
"I'lltellyouoncesomebloodisbackinmybrain."

CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE

It'snotapartyasmuchasanextrafancyhangoutsession.Theband,plussignificantothersandafew
roadies, laugh, eat, and drink in a hotel suite. There's no fancy bartender. Just a row of liquor and
mixersandaplentifulsupplyofmostlyhealthysnacks.

No one comments on Tom and me arriving together, but Meg throws him some pretty serious

side-eye.

Shepushesoffherboyfriend’slapandmovestowardsus.Usuallyshewearsflatsbuttodayshe's

inheelsthatputheraboutaninchaboveMilesandseveralinchesaboveTom.It'sintimidating,how
tallsheis,howconfidentsheis,howshe'sgoingtobeadoctor.

Miles is so supportive when he talks about her. I can only hope Tom is as supportive of what I

want.

"You'venevershoweredafterashowbefore."Shelookshimupanddown."Doyouhaveadateor

something?"

"Shit.IthoughtMilestoldyouaboutourplantodoubleteamyou,"Tomteases.
Mileslaughs.
Megblushesbutstaysstrong."Inyourdreams."
"YouknowIdon'tdate,"Tomsays.
"Thingschange."Meg'seyesdrifttome."Itcouldbenice,takingsomeonespecialoutafteralong

day—"

"And making her come until she begs for mercy." Miles pulls his girlfriend onto his lap. He

presseshislipsagainstherneck.

She'sputty.IttakesherafullminutetopullawayfromMilesenoughtotalktoTom."Whatever

you'redoing,Ihopeyou’retreatingher..."Shelooksatme."Whoeverthatis.Well."

Issubtletyalostart?Ican'texactlyblamepeoplefortiptoeingaroundmeandTom'srelationship,

butthisisclomping.

"Babe,thatwastheworsthintI'veeverheard."Milesteaseshisgirlfriend."You'reluckyeveryone

knowsthatTomandWillowarefucking.EveryoneexceptDrew."

Tomshootshimadeathglare.
Mileslaughs."Notasmuchfuntheshoebeingontheotherfoot,huh?"
"Iwasn'tthatobvious."MegmotionstoKaraandDrewcuddlingonthecouchthenturnstome.

"AslongasGuitarPrinceisbusy,howisTom?"

"I'mrighthere,"Tomsays.
"Please. You'd not only ask that, but you'd subject us to some truth or dare bullshit just for the

excuse."Megfoldsherarmsoverherchest."So..."

"Mustbegoodifshe'sstickingaround,"Milessays."It'snotforhiswit."
"Idon'tknow.Tom'sprettygood-lookingonceyougetpasthispersonality,"Megteases.
"Comeon."TomglancesatDrewasiftocheckifthecoastisclear,andslideshisarmaroundmy

waist."Ineedtotalktoyou."

"Enjoytheconversation."Mileswinks.
Wefindanemptyspaceinthekitchenette.There'ssomethingaboutTom'sexpression.Something

botheringhim.Ofcoursethereis.Tomorrow,he'sgoingtofindoutifhismomisgoingtoliveor
die.

"CanIcometomorrow?"I'mtootiredtoholdanythingback."Iwanttobethereforyou."
"Yeah."Herunsahandthroughmyhair."Iwantyoutobethere."
"Really?"

Henods.
"Tom,I—"Ibarelybitemylipintimetokeepthewordsinmythroat.Themanhasenoughonhis

mind.

"Youokay,kid?YouandHazellookedprettyserious."
Okay,that'ssomethingIcandiscuss."Sheofferedmeajob.Beingherassistantonhernexttour.It

wouldstartintwoweeksandI'dbegonemostoftheyear."

"Isthatwhatyouwant?"
Istudyhiseyesforasigntohisreaction.There'snotellingifhewantsmetostayorifhe'stotally

apathetic."It'sagoodopportunity."

Tom'svoicegetsstern."That'snotwhatIasked."
Therearefootstepscomingtowardsus.Tompracticallyjumpsbackwards.Hegetsbusyfillinga

glasswithiceandwhiskey.

Falsealarm.It'sonlyMiles.
Hetakesonelookatourstartledexpressionsandshakeshishead."Takeitfromsomeonewho's

beenthere.Thisisgoingtoblowupinyourfacessoonerratherthanlater."

"Asshole,"Tommutters.
"Loveyoutoo,buddy."Milesfillsaglasswithwaterandreturnstothemainarea.
Tomscanstheroom.Hemotionstothebathroominthebedroom."Let'sgetsomeprivacy."
Okay.Thatworks.There'sanotherbathroominthemainarea.Weshouldbeprettysafe.Ileadthe

way,plantingonthemarblesinkwhileIwaitforTom.

Heslipsintotheroomquietly.Hiseyesmeetmine."Youwanttotellmewhat'swrong?"
"No."
"It'snotactuallyarequest."
"Aren'tyouworriedaboutyourmom?"Iask.
"Of course." He moves closer. "But one thing at a time." He brushes my hair from my eyes.

"Somethingisbotheringyou."

"No."
Hepushesmyt-shirtupaninchandrunshisfingersovermystomach."Ihavewaysofmaking

youtalk."

Iswallowhard.
Heplayswiththebuttonofmyjeans."Whywon'tyoutellme?"
"Because."BecauseIloveyou,idiot.Iswallowhard.Isitpossiblehedoesn'tseethat?
"YouwanttotakeHazel'sjoboffer?"
"Maybe."
"I'llmissyou."Hekissesfrommyeartomyshoulder."Butwe'llfigureitout."
"Whatisitwe'llfigureout,Tom?"
"This."
"Whatisthis?"
"You'rechangingthesubject."Heshiftsawayfromme."Tellmewhatitisthat'swrong."
I don't want to tell him. I don't want to do anything but get in control of my senses again. My

feelingsaresooverwhelming.Ican'texplainthemwithwords.Butthewayourbodiesfittogether...
it'sthere.Hemustfeelittoo.

"I'lltellyou."Ipullmyshirtovermyhead."Afteryoufuckme."
Hestaresintomyeyes."Tellmefirst."
Ican'ttellhimfirst.Tellinghimmightscarehimoff.AndI'mnotgoingtogiveupmylasttime

withTom.Evenifitwillhurtasmuchasitfeelsgood.

Okay.Nomoreplayingnice.Iunhookmybraandslideitoffmyshoulders."Please."

"Willow,"hegroans."I'mnotgonnafuckyourpainaway."
"Whynot?"
Confusionformsinhiseyes."Youmeanmoretomethanthat."
"Thenfuckyourpain away." I run my hands through his hair. "Look me in the eyes and tell me

you'renotscared."

"I'mnotrunningawayfrommyfeelingsthistime."
"Whichfeelings?"
"Anyofthem."
Ibringmyhandtothebackofhisneck.Itfeelsdamngoodtotouchhim.Ineedtheupperhand

again."WhatdoImeantoyou?"

"Can'texactlyexplain—"
"Thenshowme."
That,heunderstands.Heunbuttonshisshirtandshrugsifoffhisshoulders.
Iunzipmyjeansandslidethemtomyknees."Ineedyou.Doyouneedme?"
"Always."
He presses his lips to mine. Maybe he can't explain it either. That's okay. I don't need words to

showhimhowIfeelabouthim.

Myfeelingspourintomykiss.Iwantyou.Ineedyou.Iloveyou.EverythingIcan'tsay.
I've got no patience today. I drag my hands over Tom's shoulders and down his chest. He's so

hard, so strong, so safe. My hands go for his jeans but I need to keep this slow. To keep it making
love.

There'sthe thinnest layerof perspiration onhis skin. He's workedup for me.I slide my tongue

intoTom'smouth.Digmyhandsintohishair.Heslidesmypantiesoffmyfeet.Unbuttonshisjeans.
Breaksourkisstowhisperinmyear.

"I'llmakethisfast."Tomslideshisarmsaroundmyhips,bringingmetotheedgeofthecounter.

Hiseyesgowideashealignsourbodies.

Hisexpressionisdamnbeautiful.Thedesireashiscocknudgesagainstmysex.Thereliefashe

fillsme.

God he feels good. The intensity threatens to break my silence. The words form on my lips,

demandingmyattention.WhenIcan'ttakeitanymore,Ikisshimhardanddeep.

He'sjustasneedy.Icanfeelitinthewayhistongueslidesagainstmine.Thewayhisfingerspress

againstmyhips.Thewayhethrustsintomewithlong,slowmovements.

Iwrapmyarmsaroundhisshouldersforsupportandpressmychestagainsthis.Ourbodiesare

practicallymerged.It'snotjustsex.Itcan'tbe.Notwiththewayhe'skissingme,thewayhe'stouching
me.

Ipressmyfingersintohisskin,soakinginallofhimthatIcan.Mylungsdon'tfilluntilourkiss

breaks.HiseyescatchmineandIknowIwon'tbeabletolookawayuntilwe'refinished.

It'sjustashardtobreathewithhimstaringintomyeyes.
Everythingelsefadesaway.TheworldisTom.Hissoftskin.Hishardmuscles.Hisraggedbreath.

Hisdeepgroans.Allthepleasureandaffectioninhisgorgeousgreeneyes.

Pleasurebuildsinmycore.Moreandmoreuntilitcommandsmetoclosemyeyes,tolookaway,

todoanythingtotempertheemotionswellingupinsideme.Ifightit.

Tomdoesn'tlookaway.Hestaresbackatme,runninghisfingersalongmychinandjaw.Hemust

feelthewayIdo.Thatorhe'spretending.AndIcan'tevenstomachthatthought.

Heshifts.Hispubicbonerubsagainstmyclit.
Yes.Isinkmyfingersintohisskin."Comewithme.Please."
Hegroans.Hislipspressagainstmineandmyeyesflutterclosed.

My tongue slides into his mouth. My hands dig into his hair. We stay glued together, moans

reverberatingdownourthroats.Tensionknotsinsideme.Yes.Almost.Ikissharder.Bringmybody
closertohis.

Hisnailsdigintomyskin.Hisshouldersshake.Itrytoholdbackmyorgasm.It'snouse.Mysex

clenches.Again.Again.ThenI'mcoming,pulsingaroundhim.

Itpullshimcloser.Urgeshimon.Hedoesn'tbreakourkiss.Onlygetsmoreaggressivewithhis

lipsandhistongueashecomes.Ashefillsme.

Westaypressedtogetherforalongmoment.Mysensesshiftintofocus.
There'snoholdingbackanymore.Ican'tstopmyselffromsayingit."Tom,I—"
I'minterruptedbyawoman'sgiggleandthebathroomdoorswingingopen.
Kara.
"Oh,myGod."Sheshrieks.
I grab a towel to cover myself. Tom pulls his jeans on. But it's not fast enough. Kara steps

backwards.Shetripsoversomething.

Drew'sconversecladfoot.Helooksdownather."Whatthe—"
Thenhe’slookingatus.
There'snotalkingmywayoutofthis.I'minatowel.Tomisbarelyinhisjeans.He'sgotthatjust

fuckedlookabouthim,andI'msureI'mnobetter.

Drew'sexpressionflareswithanger."I'mgoingtofuckingkillyou."

CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO

KaraplantsherselfinfrontofDrew.Heseethesbuthestaysput.There'snowayhe'deverriskhurting
her.

"Pleasestepaside,"hegrowls.
Sheturnsbacktohimandpressesherhandsagainsthischest."You'renothittinghim."
DrewglaresatTom."Okay.PleasemovesoIcanspeaktoTomprivately."
Shetugsathist-shirt."Youreallywanttobetraymytrustbygoingbackonyourword?"
"Iwon't."DrewlooksbacktoKara."Iwon'thitanyone."
Shemotionstoherengagementring."I'mnotmarryingamanwithaviolenttemper,Drew.Idon't

carehowmuchitwillbreakmyheartnotbeingwithyou."Hervoicesoftens."You'rebetterthanthis."

Thesameangerstaysonhisface,buthispostureshiftsfromalphadogI'llfuckingkillyou to a

slightlylessmenacingI'mthinkingaboutkillingyoubutI'mnotwillingtoriskthejailtime.

Still,Karastaysputinfrontofhim.
Drewclencheshisfists.HiseyesarelasergluedtoTom."Doyouloveher?"
"What?"Tomstepsbackwards.
"It'snotatrickquestion,"Drewsays.
"Baby,didyoulikeTomdraggingourshitinfrontofeveryone?"KararubsDrew'sbiceps.She

leanscloserandwhisperssomethinginhisear.

"Seemsfair,doingittohimnow."DrewturnshisattentiontoTom."Doyou?"
Tomfrowns."Idon'tknow."
"You better fucking figure it out. Because if you love her, fine. But if you're using your player

bullshitonher."Drewsqueezeshisfistssotighthisveinsbulge."Iwon'tkillyou.Iwon'thityou.ButI
sureashellwon'teverlookatyoursmugfaceagain.Idon'tgiveafuckaboutcontractualobligations.
I'mnotgoingtoshowupatsomeevent.I'mnotgoingtoposeforsomegoddamnmagazinecover.
AndI'msureashellnevergettingonastageorinastudionexttoyou."

"Drew."Karareachesforhishand.
Ican'twatchthemdestroysomethingthisimportanttothemandpretendit'saboutprotectingme.
Iswallowhard.Heregoesnothing."No."
Drewlooksatme."Excuseme?"
"Thisisn'tsomethingTomdidwrong.He'sbeenhonestwithme.He'salwaystreatedmewell.He's

notlikeBradley.He'dneverhurtmethatway.Everythingwedid,Iwanted.Iaskedfor."

ThisdoesnothingtocalmDrew.Instead,histemperflares.Herollshisfists,hisglareturnedupto

eleven.

Men,theydon'tlistentoreasonsometimes.
Icontinue."I'manadult,Drew.IcandecidewhoIfuck.Youdon'thavetherighttothreatenaguy

forsleepingwithme."

DrewglaresatTom.Heturnsandstalksoutoftheroom.
Therearemuffledquestionsinthemainroom.Thefrontdoorslamsshut.
Okay.Drewispissed.Businessasusual.
OnlyhecaughtmeandTomwithourpantsdown.
Notasnormal.
"He'sbeenonedgelately.There'snoexcusebut—"Karashakesherhead."I'lltalktohim."
"No."Ipullmytoweltighter."ThisisbetweenmeandDrew."
ShelooksatTomwithaccusationinhereyes."Prettysureit'smoreinvolvedthanthat."
"Maybe.ButIneedtosetDrewstraightonafewthings."

"Holdon."Shemotionsoneminuteandstepsintothemainroom.
ItleavesmeandTomalone.Sortof.
Heturnstomeandrunsahandthroughhishair."Willow,I—"
Icutin."Whateveryou'regoingtosay,don't.Thiswasmydecision.Iaskedyoutofuckme,not

theotherwayaround.I'mtheonewhowasreckless."Ibitemylip."Idon'tneedprotectingfromyour
raginglibido.IknowwhatIwant.Iwantyou."

"Idon'tknow,kid.ProbablybestifIgetlostforawhile."
Myheartsinks.Pleasedon'tletTomdumpmeafterallthis.I'mwearingafuckingtowel.It'stoo

humiliating."You'retheonlyonewhoknowsyourfeelings."

Aknockonthehalf-opendoorinterrupts.
Kara'sevenvoicefillstheroom."Ihavethekey.Areyoudecent?"
"Yeah."
Shepushesthedooropen.SheshootsTomasternexpressionthenturnstome."Areyouokay?"
"Idon'tknow.ButIneedtodothisnow."IlooktoTomonelasttime.Incaseit'sthelasttimehe

wantsanythingtodowithme.

Karahandsmearoomkey."Lastroomontheright,817.Callmeifyouhaveanissue,andI'lltalk

himdown."

"Okay."
ShemotionsgotoTom.Whenhedoes,Karastepsintothebathroom.Shewrapsherarmsaround

meinatighthug.

"I'm sorry about this. Falling in love isn't always convenient." She steps back. "But you always

know,deepdown,ifit'sworthalltheheartache."

She nods goodbye and closes the door on her way out. I try to listen for her conversation with

TomasIgetdressed.Icouldalmostswearshesayssomethingaboutmakinghislifemiserableifhe
breaksmyheart.

She'sgoingtomakeonehellofasister-in-law.

***

EventhoughIhavethekey,IknockonDrew'sdoor.AsfarasIcantell,nothingbreaksorslams.He's
notpunchingawallorkickingachair.Theonlysoundisfootsteps.

"Yeah?"heasks.
"It'sme."
Nothing.
"Ihavetheroomkey.ThoughtI'dbepolite."Irunmyfingersovertheslickplastickey.Okay.No

senseinwaiting.Let'sdothis.

DrewopensthedoorbeforeIcanunlockit.There'sstillangerandfrustrationinhisexpression,

butthere'sasoftnesstoo.

"It'snoneofyourbusinesswhoIdate,"Isay.
Drewstaresbackatme."Youreallybelievethat?"
Technically, it's not his business. But I can't argue that I didn't intentionally deceive him. "I was

afraidhowyou'dreact.Thatyou'dgoapeshitlikeyoudidwithBradley."

"I'mnotseventeenanymore."
"You just threatened to quit the band." I press my hand against the door. "I don't want to be the

hussywhoruinsyourcareers.Andit'snotfairputtingthatonme."

"It'snotaboutyou,Wil.Tommademeapromise."
"FuckTom."

"Youalreadydid.Prettyrecentlyfromthelooksofthings."There'snohumorinhisvoice.
Apparently,thisisnotajokingmatter.
Okay.Deepbreath.I'mnotbackingdown.Ipressthedoorclosedandfindaseatonthearmchair

in the corner. "Ever since Bradley, you've tried hard to protect me. But I'm not a thing that needs
protecting."Isitupstraightandmakeeyecontact."Iknowyouhavegoodintentions.Iknowyouwant
thebestforme.Butyouneedtoletmelivemyownlifeandmakemyownmistakes."

Hetakesaspotonthebedacrossfromme."Wil,you'retheonlypersonwhoknowshowfucked

upourfamilyis.Theonlypersonwhowilleverunderstand.YourememberthattriptoHawaii?"

Inod.
"Supposedtobemomanddadreconnecting,buttheyfoughttheentiretime."
"And when I freaked out, you convinced me to sneak away. We spent the whole day snorkeling

withoutparentalsupervision."

"ThatwasaprideI'dneverfeltbefore,gettingyouawayfromthesituationthatwasmakingyou

cry."Hissmilefades."Itkilledmewhenyouranoffwiththatasshole.Iwassupposedtoprotectyou
fromallthatbullshit.Certainlysupposedtoprotectyoufromguyslikehim."

"Tomisn't—"
"Let me finish." Drew stares into my eyes. "I'm sure you remember what a tool I was in high

school,allcaughtupinbeingpopularandcooland—"

"WinningHomecomingKing?"
Henods."Isawthesigns.Thebruises.Thefear.You'dalwaysgottenfreakedaboutMomandDad

fighting,butonceyouwerewiththatasshole,itwasdifferent.Youfroze."Hisgazegoestothefloor.
"Itbrokemyheartfindingyouathisplace,knowinghowhe'dhurtyou."

"Itbrokemyhearttoo.Whathedid.Andworryingthatyou'dgottenyourselfkilleddefendingmy

honor."

Hiseyesfillwithfrustration."IpromisedmyselfI'dneverletanythingelsehappentoyou."
"Nothinghashappenedtome,Drew.IhadsexwithTom.Iwantedhim.Iaskedhim.Andhewas

fuckingfantastic.Caring.Attentive.AlwaysmadesureIcame."

"Thesedetailsarenotmakingmefeelbetter."
"I'm an adult. As long as we're both on the same page, what's the harm in me and Tom having

sex?"

Drewstaresbackatme."Areyouinlovewithhim?"
"Yes."
"Haveyoutoldhim?"
"No."
"Gofuckingdoit."Drewrisestohisfeet."That'stheonlywayyou'llknowifit'sreal."
What?Myheadisswimming."Ithoughtyouwereagainstthewholething."
"I am." He offers his hand. "But I'm not blind. I've seen the way he makes you laugh. Fuck, you

haven'tlaughedlikethatsincelasttimeIface-plantedonmyskis.Andthatmusthavebeentenyears
ago.

He motions for me to grab his hand. When I do, he pulls me up. And he hugs me. It's not an

awkward,stiltedhugbutanaffectionateone.

"Iwantyoutobehappy,Wil.Iloveyou.Idon'ttrustTomasfarasIcanthrowhim,butifyoutrust

him, if you love him—I'm not going to get in the way of that." He walks me to the door. "I can't
promiseIwon'thurthimifheisplayingyou."

"Noviolence."
Drewnods."Thereareotherwaystomakehislifemiserable."
"Don'tleavetheband,Drew.It'severythingtoyou."

"Youwanttobefreetofuckwhoeveryouwant,fine.I'mjustasfreetoassociatewithwhoeverI

want."

There'snoarguingthatpoint."Willyougetanothertattoowithme?Ifhedoesbreakmyheart?"
"Not sure." He opens the door and nudges go. "Might be hard to get tattoos together if I'm

convictedofmurder."

Hesmiles.
He'sjoking,thankgoodness.
"That'snotfunny,"Isay.ButIlaughanyway."Ican'tbelieveyou'remyfavoritebrother."
"Can't believe you're my favorite sibling." He one-ups me. His expression gets serious. "Good

luck."

"Thanks."
ItakeadeepbreathasIwalkbacktotheparty.
Thedoorisstillopen.Theroomisquiet.Nodoubt,everyoneiswaitingtoseewhetherornotI

survivedmyconversationwithDrew.

Istepinsideandscantheroom.Therearealotofworriedexpressions.Onsomeoftheroadies.

OnMegandKaraandeventheusuallyaloofMiles.

Noneofthatmatters.
There'snosignofTom.
Andfromthewayeveryoneislookingatmewithpity,there'snowaythenewsisgood.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE

Timepassesslowlywhenhalfadozenpeoplearetryingandfailingnottostare.Theclockonthewall
suggeststhatit'sonlybeentenseconds.Feelsliketenhours.

Therearenosoundsinthebedroomorinthekitchenaroundthecornerorinthebathroom.
There'snosignofTom.
Nooneassuringmethathe'sonabeerrun.Cometothinkofit,Ineverseebeer.Everyonejumps

straighttoliquor.

Mightnotbeabadidea,enoughwhiskeytodullmythoughts.
"Tom,um,hesaidhewantedtogiveDrewsomespace."Karastepsforward."Whydon'tyoucatch

aridewithus?"

Yeah,I'msurehesaidthat.
PetemotionscomeheretoKara.Shedoes.Hewhisperssomethinginherear.Itwipestheworry

fromherexpression.Mostly.

Thebassistshiftsawayfromthecrowd.Hemakeseyecontactwithme."I'mgoingtostaythenight

atthehotel.Youshouldtoo."

"Pleasetellmeyou'renotofferingreboundsex,"Megsays.
"Tomwoulddoit,"Milessays.
"True."Shenods.
"No, sorry, Willow." Pete motions for us to leave. "I'm sure you'll cry yourself to sleep over

missingout,butI'mnotofferingtofuckyou."

"ThanksforclarifyingthatbeforeIgotmyhopesup,"Isay.
"Nowlet'sgetoutofhere."Petethrowswarningglancesateveryoneinattendance."Lastthingyou

needisattention."

Ifollowhimtomyhotelroominatotaldaze.HowcouldTombailwithoutasingleword?Icheck

myphoneforanysignofcontact—atext,atweet,anInstagramphoto.Nothing.

Petenotsogentlyordersmetochangeintomypajamasandbrushmyteeth.He'sjustasbossyas

Tomis,butit'samuchcalmerway.Hisdeepvoiceissoothing.Ican'timaginewhatpossessedhisex
toleavehimforanyone.

Don'tgetmewrong.I'mfartooheadoverheelsforTomtoevenfathombeinginterestedinPete.

Butheisinteresting.Sexy,deep,playfulandmysteriousatonce.

Whenhecatchesmecheckingtextsonmyphone,heplucksitfrommyhandsandturnsitoff.
"You'regoingtodriveyourselfcrazycheckingthatthingallnight."Hesitsonthebednexttome.

"It'snotyou,Willow.Mom,Opheliacalledduringtheshow.She'sgettingscared.Tomwenttobewith
her."

"Oh."
"I'llknockwhenIpickyouuptomorrow.Tena.m.Howdoyoutakeyourcoffee?"
"Almondmilkandplentyofsugar."Ipullthecoversovermyshoulders."Whyareyoupicking

meup?"

"You'recomingwithustoseeMom."
"I'mnotsurethat'sagoodidea."
"It'syourdecision."Vulnerabilityfillshiseyes."Idon'tknowwhathappenedwithyouandTom.

Where you guys are. He might not realize it, but he needs you. The way he acts around you... I've
neverseenhimcarethatmuchaboutanythingbesidestheband."

Ibitemylip.

"Youhavetoputyourselffirst.Ifyoudon'twanttobearoundhim,Igetthat.Iwon'tpushyou.But

heneedsyoutomorrow."

"Whatifhedoesn't?Whatifheleftbecausehedoesn'twanttobewithme?"
"I'llmakeituptoyou."
"How?"Iask.
"Reboundsex."
Ilaugh."You'renot..."Istudyhisexpression.He'sstoic.It'shardtotellwhenhe'skidding."You're

kidding,right?"

Henods."IfyoudodumpTom,begentle.Notforhissake.Formine.Forsomereason,Ilovethe

asshole."

There'sanoceanofconcerninhisvoice.Idon'tbuyhiscoolfacadeforasecond.Hereallycares

aboutTom.It'sobvioushowmuchtheymeantoeachother.

"He'syourbrother,"Isay.
"Mustbeit."
"Andhe'snotanasshole.Usually."
Pete pushes off the bed with a nod goodbye. "If you need anything, I'm in room 816." He steps

backwards."Well,almostanything."Hewinksonhiswayoutthedoor.

***

Thedriveisablurofnerves,coffee,andjazzmusic.Idon'tbotheraskingwhosecarwe'redrivingor
whereitcamefrom.Allmyattentiongoestokeepdownmyhalfabagelbreakfast.Wemightfindout
TomandPete'smomisdying.IknowI'mnotpartofthefamily,mightneverbepartofthefamily,but
I'mstillterrifiedforthem.

Trafficislightonthefivefreeway.WetakeanexitsomewhereinOrangeCounty.It'safewstreets

tothebig,cleanhospitalanditswideparkinglot.Italmostlookslikeanofficebuildingwithitsbig
windowsanditsturquoiseexterior.

Theinsideisnice.Welllit.Thewallsarecream,thesignsbrightblue.Petecheckssomethingon

hisphonethenpresseshishandagainstmyupperbacktoleadmethroughthehallways.I'malmost
gladI'mwithhimandnotTom.Idon'tthinkIcanhandleTomtouchingmeatthemoment.

We stop in front of an open door. There are voices. Laughter. A woman's throaty chuckle. And

Tom'sbrightlaugh.Iknowitwellbynow.Evenwitheverythingallscrewedup,hislaughmakesthe
worldfeellightandeffortless.

IfollowPeteintotheroom.Tom'seyescatchmine.They'refilledwithsurprise.Andsomething

else.He'snervous.

"Didn'tthinkyouwerecoming,kid."Heshoveshishandsintohispockets.
"Damn.IwashopingshewasPeter'snewgirlfriend."Thewomanonthehospitalbedlaughs.She

pushesherselfupandextendsherhands."I'mOphelia."

She'sinherlatefifties,maybealittleolder.Hershorthairiselectricblue.She'snotparticularly

tallorbroad,butshe'sapresence.

Petejumpsin."Mom,noonecallsmePeter."
"UnlesstheyfollowitwithParker."Tomlaughs.
"Don't tease your brother. He looked handsome in those thick black glasses." She smiles. "Why

wouldn'tyouwanttobeSpider-Man,honey?He'soneoftheleastobnoxiousofthosesuperheroes."

Ishakeherhand."I'mWillow."
"Drew'slittlesister,"Tomadds."YourememberDrew?"

"Please, Thomas. You think I'm going to believe that you're spending time with a beautiful

woman,andyouaren'tsleepingwithher?"

Tomcringes."Isthisthetime?"
"Sexislife,sweetheart.It'salwaysthetime.I'vefuckedplentyofbeautifulwomen.It'snotgoingto

shockmethatyou'resleepingaround,"Opheliasays.

Fuckedwomen?"You'regay?"Icovermymouthwithmyhand.Shit.It'snotlikeshehasspots.But

noonementionedit.

"Yes.Agoodthingtoo.Mencan'thandleanipple-lessfaketit."
Pete and Tom turn various shades of red. Ophelia motions to their embarrassment as if it's

provingherpoint.

"I'msorry,sweetie,"shesays."Thisisn'tappropriategettingtoknowyouconversation.I'dloveto

blamethetwelvehourswithoutfoodorwaterorthepre-surgeryjitters,but—"

"She'salwayslikethis,"Tomsays.
"Ihopeyou'renotthatrudetoyourgirl...whatareyoukidscallingitnowadays?"sheasks.
Ibitemytongue.
Tomisequallyunabletogetwordsout.
PeteandOpheliaexchangeaknowinglook.
Sheraisesabrow."Peter,youshouldkeepabettereyeonhim."
Petelaughs."Hemovestoofast."
"I'llbet."Opheliashakesherhead.Shelookstome."Whatdoyoudo,sweetheart?Youdon'tstrike

measthegroupietype."

"I'maphotographer,"Isay.
"Anygood?"sheasks.
"Don'tberude,"Tomsays.
"No,it'sfine.I'mprettygood,"Isay.
"She'sgoingtostartabusiness.Doingheadshots.Andboudoir."Tomsmiles.
Helooksproud.Heshouldn'tbespeakingforme,buthelookssofuckingproud.
Everythingislightagain.Ipressmyheelagainstthewallforbalance.
"Boudoir,really?Howmuchdoyoucharge?I'dlovetoimmortalizemyonegoodtit."
PeteandTomturnevendarkershadesofred.
Ijumpinbeforeoneofthemdiesofembarrassment.IlikeOphelia.Alot."I'dbehappytodoitas

agifttoyourfamily.TomandPetehavebeenreallygreattome.Butthere'sagoodchanceI'llbeout
oftownforthenextsixmonths."

"Oh?"sheasks.
"Iwasofferedajobasanassistantphotographeronanothertour.Itstartsintwoweeks,"Isay.
Tom'sexpressiondarkensbuthedoesn'tsayanything.
"WithHazel?"Peteasks."That'sgreat,Willow.She'salegend."
"Youshouldscheduleasessionwithherbeforesheleaves,"Isay."She'sdyingtoshootnudesof

you.Ibetshe'ddoitjustforyourpersonalcollection."

Petesmilessmugly.
Opheliaisnotatallembarrassed."Youshould,Peter.It'simportanttobeproudofyourbody,even

whenit's..."Thejoyfallsoffherface.Shereachesforatissue."Excuseme."

Boththeguysrushtohersidetocomforther.Shewavesthemaway.
"Stopfussing."Shefoldsthetissueintoatinyballanddropsitinherlap.
I press my back against the wall, unable to come up with any words of comfort that don't feel

hollow.TomandPeteshifttheconversationtoeasiertopics,memoriesofsillyfightsandnon-sexual
bandantics.

IaddtotheconversationwhenIcan.Mostly,noneoftheattentionishereintheroom.We'reall

offsomeplacefullofdreadandworry.

By the time the nurse arrives to finish prepping Ophelia, we're down to discussing crime TV

shows.TheCloserisafavoriteofOphelia's.I'veneverseenit,butTomassuresmeI'dlikethetakeno
shitleaddetectiveBrenda.

"Fiveminutes,Ms.Steele."Thenursestepsoutoftheroom.
Opheliakeepsupastrongfacadebuttheworryiswrittenalloverherface.ShepullsTomclose

enoughtowhisper.I'mnotfamily.Ineedtogivethemspace.

"Excuseme.Goodluck."Itakeasteptowardsthedoor.
"Thankyou,sweetheart."Herfacefloodswithrelief."WillIseeyoutonight?"
"DependsonhowwellTomtreatsmethisafternoon."
Shesmiles.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR

Ten minutes later, the nurse takes Ophelia to surgery. Tom and Pete go with her. I play with the
pocketsofmyjeanstokeepmymindoccupied.Sheseemslikeawonderfulwoman.Ihopeshe'sokay.

The mood is tense when the brothers arrive. Tom paces up and down the hall, tapping his feet

frantically.Petesitsnexttome,hisdarkeyesfilledwithconcern.

Helookstome."Youwantsomethingtodrink?"
"Coffee,"Isay.
"Sure."HepushesoutofhisseatandnodstoTom."Whydon'tyousitdown?"
"Notofferingmeadrink?"Tomtapshisfingersimpatiently.
PeteshootsTomasternlook.It'sheavywiththeweightofmutualhistory.Whateveritis,itworks.

Tomnodsandplantsinthechair.

He'snomorerelaxed.Hetapsabeatagainsthisthigh.Hiseyesgotothebrightwalls.Theyfill

withdeepconcern.

"Don'ttakeHazel'soffer,"hesays.
I swallow hard. "Why?" Half of me wants it to be because he needs me nearby. The other half

wantstopunchhimforthepresumptionthatI'drearrangemylifeforhim.

"It'snotwhatyouwant."
Oh.It'snotaboutusatall.Ifthereisanus.
Tommakeseyecontact."Youwanttosetupyourownstudio.You'regoodenough.Youmusthave

enough money after what Hazel was paying you. I learned a lot about business acting as de facto
manager.Icanhelpwithanythingyouneed."

"Idon'twanttotalkaboutthisrightnow."
"Thenwhen?IheardyouandHazeltalking.Shewantsananswerintwodays."
"Youshouldn'teavesdrop."
"Youwereavoidingme.Tellmewhy."
Ipressmylipstogether."Idon'twanttotalkaboutthatnow."
"Thenwhatthefuckdoyouwanttotalkabout,kid?"
"Idon'tknow."Iswallowhard."Peteconvincedmethatyouneededmetobehere.Maybehewas

wrong."

IgotopushmyselfoutofmyseatbutTomstopsme.
Herunshisthumbovermine."Hewasright.Ineedyouhere."
Noworalways?Isthisforever?Iwantittobeforever.
Deepbreath."I'mnotsureIhavetheenergytostartabusiness."
"Don'tdothat."
"What?"
"Runawayfromyourambition.You'resmart.Talented.Youworkhardashell.Iknowyoucando

it."

"Goodforyou,Tom,butyoudon'tgettodecidewhatIdo."
"NotwhatImean."
"What the fuck do you mean?" I pick up his tapping habit. Coming here was a bad idea. My

emotions have been running high all month. Then yesterday... I can't do the supportive friend thing.
NotaroundTom.It’stoohardwantingtobehiseverything.

"I was showing Mom your photos last night." His voice is soft, sweet. "You're an amazing

photographer.Youcouldbeshootingmagazineeditorialsifyouwanted."

Hisexpressionisearnest.Hereallybelievesthat.

"I'mthinkingaboutit,"Isay.
"I'mnotgoingtoletuponthisone."Hesqueezesmyhand."Youdon'thavetobeshy.Youneed

moremodelsforyourboudoir.Ivolunteer."

Alaughbreaksupthetensioninmyshoulders."Doyou?"
"Absolutely."
"Andyou'llsignamodelrelease?"
Henods.
"WhatifIsellthephotostoTMZ?"
"Won'tbeanythinganyonehasn'tseenbefore."
Imotiontohiscrotch."Whataboutyourpiercing?"
Tomsmiles."Itrustyou."
"Doyou?"
Henodswithallthisopennessandaffection.
My heart beat speeds up. My thoughts crash into each other. One thing at a time. Waiting for

Opheliatogetoutofsurgeryisnerve-wrackingenoughwithoutaddingheartbreaktothemix.

***

Pete does a thorough job distracting us. First the coffee. Then he breaks out a deck of cards and
teachesatricktakinggame.He'smasterful.TomandIhavetoteamupagainsthimtokeephimfrom
runningawaywithit.

Wehavelunchinthecafeteria.Nooneispayingmuchattentiontotheirfood.Still,weplayround

afterroundofthecardgame.Forawhile,we'relaughing,teasing.

Aroundtwo,wefindspotsinthewaitingroom.Nomorelaughing,nomorejoking.Nolevityat

all.Petesitsbyhimself.There'ssomethingscaryabouthowcalmhisexpressionis.Likehe'sraging
underthesurface.

Tomisn'thidinganything.Hepacesbackandforth,frantic.Nervous.Ican'twatchhimthisupset.I

havetogetupandwrapmyarmsaroundhim.

Hesoftens.Slows.Hesqueezesmeandrunshishandsupanddownmyback.Westayclosefor

minutes.

"Thankyouforbeinghere."Hewhispersinmyear.
Thenhepullsback,andhe'sasgoodasgone.Thenervesswallowhimwhole.Heleansagainstthe

wall,tappinghistoesorhisfingers.

"I'dkillforadrumkitrightaboutnow,"hesays.
"Woulditbeinappropriatetomakeajokeabouthowyou'rewelcometobangme?"
"Yeah."Hesmiles."ButMomwouldloveit."
"Youare.Welcometobangme."
Heshakeshishead."Notrightnow,kid.Notwitheverything..."
"Yeah."
But he does wrap his arms around me. I'm scared too but it feels amazing knowing I can bring

himsomecomfort.

WhenTomreleasesme,hestaysclose.Hekeepshishandintertwinedwithmine.
Westaylikethatuntilawomaninscrubscomesuptous.ShenodstoTomwithfamiliarity.
"Where'syourbrother?"Sheasks.
TommotionstothenearlystillPete.Ittakesthebassistaminutetomove—hemustbeterrified.

Slowly,hemakeshiswaytous.

ThewomanlooksPeteintheeye."Yourmotherisinrecovery.Thesurgerywentwell,butshe'll

needsometimeundersupervisionbecauseoftheanesthesia."

Noonebreathes.
ShelookstoTom."She'sgoingtobeokay.Thetumorisbenign."
"She'sokay?"Peteasks.
Thedoctornods."Thecancerisn'tback.Thatdoesn'tmeanitwillnevercomeback,butfornow,it

looksgood."

Tom'shandsqueezesmine."Thankyou."
"Itshouldbeaboutanhourbeforeyoucanseeher.Thenursewillcallyouwhenshe'sready."The

doctornodsacourteousbutemotionlessgoodbyeandreturnstoherwork.

Tomreleasesmyhand.Heturnstohisbrother.Theyexchangeameaningfullook.Thenthey'rein

oneofthoseguyhugswherethey'rebarelytouching.

Petestepsback."I'llmakethecalls."Hemotionstothehospitalentrance."Getsomefreshair."
Tomswallowshard."Pete—"
"Go."
Tomtakesmyhandandleadsmethroughthelobby."Notusedtotakingorders."
"Ishealwaysthatbossy?"
"Yes."Tomlaughs."Bossier.Don'ttellmeyou'reinterested."
"Intriguedmaybe,"Itease.I'mdesperatetolightenthemoodasquicklyaspossible.
Westepthroughthefirstsetofdoubledoors.Thenthesecond.
Allmysensesfireatonce.Theairsmellsofsalt.Thesuniswarm.Beautifulblueflowerslinethe

walkway.

AndTom'shandsareonmyskin.
Hepullsmeintoanotherhug.No,it'smorethanahug.It'sanembrace.Hisbodypressesagainst

mine.Mycheekpressesagainsthisneck.Hesmellsgood.He'swarm.

When he releases me, he looks into my eyes. There's so much relief in his expression. It's my

relief.Allthehappinesshe'sfeelingflowsintomelikeit'smyown.

Itismyown.
Istarebackathim."Tom,Iloveyou."

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE

The wind rustles the bushes. The freeway hums with the steady flow of traffic. A car pulls into a
parkingspaceanditsengineturnsoff.

Tomstaresatme.
Silent.
Myheartpoundsagainstmychest.It'ssoloudandhe'ssoquiet.
IpinchmyselftocheckthatI'mawake.Stillinthesunshine,ontheconcreteoutsidesomeclean

OrangeCountyhospital.

Stillbreathing.
"Youshouldprobablyrespond,orI'mgoingtostarttobelievewhatDrewsaidaboutyouplaying

me,"Isay.

Tomblinks."Youcan'tloveme."
It'slikeI'mpunchedinthegut.Airrushesoutofmylungs.Ihavetodigmyheelsintotheconcrete

tomanageanybalance.Howcanhebelievethat,muchlesssayit?

Still,hestaresatme,silent.
"Idoloveyou,"Isay.
"Youjustthink—"
"Idon'tthinkanything.IknowIloveyou.Ifeeliteverywhere.Ican'tbreathewithoutfeelinghow

muchIloveyou.Itknocksmeover.Hell,lookatme.IcanbarelystandupstraightandI'mwearing
Keds.There'snothinkinginvolved."

"Willow..."
Helookssad.Likehepitiesme.Mystomachclenches.Anythingbutpity.Evenhate.
"I..."
IstarebackintohiseyeswithasmuchstrengthasIcanmuster."Iwanttostayandhelpwithyour

mom,butIcan'tbearoundyouunlessIknowyouloveme,too."

"Noonehaseverlovedmebefore."
"That'snottrue.Yourmom,Pete,theybothloveyousomuch.DrewandMiles,too."
Hestaresintomyeyes."Youcan'tgo.I'llbeworriedsick."
Itakeastepbackwards."Iloveyou,Tom.Iwanttobeyourfriend.ButIcan'tdoitrightnow.It

hurtstoomuchnotbeingyoureverything."

"Idon'tknowwhattosay."
"That'safirst."
Hehalf-smiles."Willow,Iwantto.Ido.ButI—"
"Please don't finish that sentence. Just think about it and, whatever it is, tell me later." I step

backwards."Youshouldbewithyourfamilyrightnow.I'llseeyou—"

Hereachesforme."Don'tgo."
"Ihaveto.Ifyoucareaboutmeatall,you'llrespectthat."
"Idocareaboutyou.Ijust—"
"Stop.Please."
Henodswithunderstanding.
Myeyessting.Isquint,turnawayfromthesun.Itdoesn'thelptokeepthetearfromrollingdown

mycheek.

Theautomaticdoorsswishopenbehindme.
"Tom, the nurse needs your—" Pete's voice drops as he spots me. He clears his throat. "Your

number.Gogiveittoher."

"Notthebesttime,"Tomsays.
Peteshootshimasternlook.
Tommakeseyecontactwithme.Heopenshismouth.Ittakeshalfaminuteforhimtospeak."I'll

letyouknowhowMomisdoing."

Ishakemyhead."Petecandothat."
Tom'sexpressionsinks."Don'tdothis,kid.Ican'tstomachlosingyourightnow."
There'snostoppingthetearsfromrollingdownmycheeks.Ichokebackasob."It'snotlikethat.I

just—"

"Iunderstand."Tomlooksattheground.Hisexpressionfillswithfrustration,buthenods,andhe

makeshiswaybackintothehospital.

"Youwantmetodriveyouhome?"Peteasks.
Ishakemyhead."Youshouldbewithyourmom."
"I'llcallyouacar."

***

It's late afternoon when I arrive at Drew's place. I check my makeup with my cell phone camera.
There'ssomesmudgingbutmyeyesarenolongerI'vebeensobbingred.

Drewanswersthedoor.Hisexpressionfillswithconcern.Hetakesmysuitcaseandpullsmeinto

ahug."DoIneedtokillhim?"

"No."
"ShouldImakeanappointmentwithmytattooartistfortomorrowordoyouneedmoretimeto

pickoutadesign?"

"Howaboutthedayaftertomorrow."Itrytolaughbutitcomesoutasamuffledsob.
"CrashandCocoBandicoot?"
This time, the sound I make is more laugh than sob. Fifty-one/forty-nine but I'll take a single

percentagepoint."Nothankyou."

"Youdohaveathingforblonds."
IswatDrew."You'renotmakingthiseasier."
"MarioandLuigi?"
"WhogetsMarioandwhogetsLuigi?"
Hepointstohimself."GreenYoshi."Thentome."PinkYoshi."
"You'refuckingwithme."
"Maybe."Heshrugs."SpryotheDragonandToothless?"
"They'renotfromthesameuniverse."
"Sayswho?"
Ilaugh."Novideogamecharacters."
"ToothlessandHiccup."
"IfIgetToothless."
"Noway!IwantToothless.HowaboutBatmanandBatgirl?"
"Now,I'msureyou'refuckingwithme."
Helaughsandleadsmeinside."Comeon.I'mteachingKarahowtomakeshrimpscampi.Youcan

overseetheveggieversion."

"Okay."
"YousureIdon'tneedtokillhim?"
"Positive."

***

Mycontributiontothecookingprocessinvolvessuggestingvegetablesthenploppingonthecouchby
myself. Drew and Kara take turns cooking and attempting to console me. I stream How To Marry a
Millionaireandgetlostinthebackandforthbetweenthecharmingmoviestars.

Dinner doesn't have a taste. My thoughts fill with concerns about Ophelia. And about Tom. His

wordswereasgoodasarejection,andI'mstillworriedabouthim.Idigmyphoneoutofmypurse,
butKarastealsit.

"Don't text with a broken heart, sweetie." Kara turns my phone off. She motions to the couch.

"Let'splayagame."

"Yeah,howaboutCrashTeamRacing?I'llletyoupickthefirsttrack,"Drewsays.
They're trying but all I can feel is the pity in Tom's eyes when I told him I loved him. Like he

thoughtIwaspatheticforlovinghim.LikehethoughtIwasafool.

Agameisagoodidea.Anythingbesidesthinking.ItakeaspotonthecouchwhileDrewdigsout

anancientPlayStation.Thereareonlytwocontrollers,soDrewandKarataketurnsfacingoffwith
me.DrewandIusedtoplaythisgameallthetimewhenwewerekids.Ipickitupquickly.Himtoo.
Karanotasmuch,butshelaughseverytimesheaccidentallydrivesofftheedge.

Weplayforhours.Untilweallknowthegamebackwardsandforwards.ItrytoleavebutKara

insists she needs my help baking a cake. My help consists of sampling batter and instructing her to
addmorechocolatechips.It'ssomething.Acakewithinsufficientchocolateisn'twortheating.

Whenwe'refinished,Iexcusemyselftothesparebedroomandcollapseonthedarkcomforter.

Theroomissparse.Nodecorationsonthewalls,noclothesinthecloset,nogoodiesinthedresser.
The only thing in here is one of Drew's guitars and God knows I don't want to face him if I
accidentallybreakit.

My computer is somewhere in my suitcase. There's no way I'll be able to resist the lure of

checking on Tom through email or any of the half a dozen social media sites he manages for the
band.Thenthere'shispersonalaccounts.Peoplewhoaskhimtoposeforapictureorsignanitemof
clothingtagginghim...Theremightbeanewpicture.Acluetohowhefeels.

I'malreadyworkingmyselfintoatizzy.Thecomputerisabadidea.
Ispendanhourpouringoverthephotosonmycamera.Almosteverythingiswipedcleanexcept

forthelastSinfulSerenadeshow.It'sjustasunwiselookingatadozenpicturesofTomthatItook,but
Itrymybesttolookasaphotographerandnotagirlinlove.

Thepicturesaregood.Theconcertsarefun.Hazelissmartandtalented.Workingwithheragain

isagreatopportunity.Butthere'ssomethinglackingaboutit.There'snothingofmeinthesephotos.
Theydon'tcommandmethewayportraitsorevenheadshotsdo.

Then again, I'm not sure how much energy I can muster to throw myself into photography

sessions.Ineedtolickmywounds.

Atthistimeofnight,Imightaswellsleeponit.Ifindmypajamasinmysuitcase,brushmyteeth,

washmyface.WhenIgetbacktothespareroom,Karaissittinginthebedholdingatablet.

Shemotionscomehere."Closethedoor.Thisisoursecret."
Ido.
"Drew has no idea this exists. He never looks at gossip sites." Her expression gets bashful. "It's

embarrassinghowoftenIdo."Shenavigatestosomethingonthetabletandhandsittome."Thiswent
liveaboutanhourago."

There's an article on a well-known gossip site. Tom and Pete Steele Fighting Over the Same

Woman?LoveTriangleToBreakUpAlternativeRockBandSinfulSerenade.

There'sapictureofmeandTomtalkingoutsidethehospital.AndanotherofPeteconsolingme

afterTomwalkedaway.Whatkindofassholetakespicturesofpeopleoutsideahospital?

The article is mostly conjecture about how I'm a home-wrecker, well, band-wrecker. There are

otherquestionstoo,aboutwhywe'reallatthehospital.Apparently,aso-calledfanrecognizedTom,
snappedpicturesonhercellphone,andsentthemintothegossipsite.

Karaplayswiththeedgesofhercellphone."Drewdoesn'thavetoknowaboutthis."
"Idon'tcare."
"ButTomhasbeentextingme,askingwhatyouwanttodo."
"Whyisheaskingyou?"IsetthetabletonthebedbeforeIgiveintothetemptationtocontacthim

myself.

"Itoldhimyourphoneisofffortheday."Shetapssomethingintoherphone."Anythinghewants

to say is going through me." Kara looks at me. "Whatever happens with the band, you and I are
family.EvenifDrewdoessomethingstupidtogethimselfkilledorthrowninjail."

"Youthinkhewould?"
"Heknowsbetter."Sheshovesherphonebackintoherpocket.
"TheguysarealwaysteasingDrewthathe'llneverfindanyoneasgoodasyou."
"Hewon't.Drewhateseveryone.Exceptthepeopleheloves.He'sprettyblackorwhite."
"TheyneverteaseMilesaboutnotdoingbetterthanMeg."
Karaplopsonthecouch."Milesdoesn'ttakethebait.Drewiseasytorileup.Sureyounoticed.But

Mileswouldbejustaslostwithouther.Moreeven."

"Youknow,Ihatedyouwhenwewerekids."
"Really?"
"DrewwasmyonlyfriendinSanFrancisco.Andmyallyagainstourparents.Itfeltlikeyoustole

him."

"Sorryaboutthat.Can'tsayIregretit."
Ipushthetabletasidetositnexttoher.
Herphonebuzzes.Shegroansasshechecksit."Tomsoundsreallyupset.Butthere'snowayI'm

lettinghimtalktoyourightnow."

"Hedidn'tdoanythingwrong.Hecan'thelpnotlovingme."
Sympathyfillshereyes."Um.Howdoyouwanttospinthestory?"
"Idon'tcare.Tomcandecide."
Karatapsherphone."Ifhedecides,itwillbesomethingaboutthreesomesandbondage.Andyour

namewillgetconnectedsoonerorlater."

"Probably sooner being the guitarist's innocent baby sister. It's a lot more scandalous with that

detail."

"True." She looks at me. "Are you sure? I can fuck with him. Tell him to make the story about

yoursecretloveaffairwithPete,howyoutwoarehidingitfromTombecauseheisamuchbetter
lay."

"Nothankyou."Iliebackonthebedandstareatthestuccoceiling."Tellhimnottospinit.To

makeitthetruth.ThatIhandedhimmyheartandhestaredatitlikeitwasahandgrenade."

Karaplopsnexttome."Ohhoney,I'msorry."Shetapsareplyandtossesherphoneaside."Are

youokay?"

Isaynothing.
She'squietforaminute.Eventually,shegetsupandlooksovermycamera."Whathaveyoubeen

thinkingaboutuphere?"

"OnlywhatI'mdoingwithmylife."
"Sonobigdeal?"Shesmiles.

"Yeah."
Hervoiceiscalm,friendly."Whatareyouroptions?"
"Hazel,theband'sphotographer,offeredmeajobasherassistantonanothertour."
"Or?"
"OrIcanstayinLAandtrytosetupmyownstudio.Oramillionotherthings."
Kara'stexttoneinterruptsmytrainofthought.Shestaresatthephonewithtemptationinhereyes.

Itonlytakesafewmomentsforhertobreak.

"Oh."Shepressesherfingersintoherphone."Tomwantstotakeyousomewheretomorrow."
"Where?"
"He won't say. Only that it's important. And some bullshit about how you're both adults, and he

shouldbehavingthisconversationwithyou."Hervoicedropstoamutter."He'sluckyhe'snothaving
thisconversationwithmyboot."

Aflutterofhopebuildsinmystomach.Hewantstoseeme.Thatmightmeanhe'sfiguredthings

out.

"Icantellhimtogofuckhimself,"Karaoffers.
"No.Iwanttoseehim."
Shepursesherlipsindistaste."Ifyou'resure."
"TellhimhehastogetthroughDrewfirst."
Shesmiles."That'squitetheobstacle."
"Hedeservestoworkforit."

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX

Kararefusestoreturnmyphone.Formyowngood,supposedly.ShearrangeseverythingwithTom.
He'ssettoarriveatelevena.m.

Isleepinfits.Comemorning,I'mtoonervoustodomuchmorethanbrushmyteeth,shower,and

dress.Ofcourse,Imanagetopickoutaparticularlylowcuttopandshortskirtcombination,soI'm
notthatoutofit.

Drewmakescoffeeandbreakfast.Scrambledeggswithvegetables.Theyhaveataste.Mostlyhot

sauce,butit'ssomething.Thecoffeetoo.Icansmellit.It'snutty,robust,bitter.Ifixitwithsugarand
almondmilkuntilit'ssweet.

Kara distracts me with another round of Crash Team Racing while Drew sulks in his room. Or

sharpenshisblade.OrpreparessomeplantokillTomandgetawaywithit.There'snotellingwhat
mybrotherisdoing.

I give up on the game at a quarter to eleven. The minutes pass slowly. My skin is flushed, slick

withsweat.It'ssummerinLosAngeles.Warm.Butnotwarmenoughtojustifythis.

Thedoorbellrings.
Thatmustbehim.
Iremindmyselftobreathe.In.Out.Easy.Nobigdeal.
Drewdescendsthestairswithaseriouslookonhisface.Hemotionsforustostaythenanswers

thedoor.

Sureenough,Tomisstandingthere.Helooksnormalinjeansandat-shirt,hissunglassespulling

downthevofhisv-neck.

Hedoesn'twaitforDrew'sresponse."Dowhateveryouhavetodo.Hitme.Declareyou'renever

speakingtomeagain.Handmethepaperworkyourlawyerdrewupaboutquittingtheband.Idon't
care.I'mnothereforyou.I'mhereforWillow."

"I'mnotgoingtohityou."Drew'svoiceiscalm,unreadable.
Tomstaresback,tappinghisfingersagainsthisthighimpatiently.
Drewpresseshishandagainstthedoorframe,blockingmyviewofTom."Doesn'tmeanI'mgoing

toletyoumakemysistercryagain."

"LastthingIwantistohurther."
Ican'tseeTombuthisvoiceissweet,earnest.
"Intentionsaren'talwaysgoodenough,"Drewsays.
"Ifwe'regonnahavethisconversation,let'sdoitprivately,"Tomsays.
Drewlooksbacktomeasiftoaskmypermission.WhenInod,hestepsoutsideandclosesthe

doorbehindhim.

Kara plays with her cell phone with a not quite calm expression. "I haven't been this nervous in

forever.Areyouokay?"

Inod.
Sheunlockshercellphoneandnavigatestothebrowser."Iprobablyshouldn'tshowyouthis,but

—"

She'sinterruptedbythedooropening.Drewstepsbackinside.
Helooksatme."Dowhatyouwanttodo,Wil."
KarahidesherphoneandmakeseyecontactwithDrew."Youshouldn'tphrasethatlikeshehasto

earnyourpermission."

"No,it'sfine,"Isay.IaskedDrewtobemyfirstlineofdefense.He'sonlydoingasIask."I'llsee

youguyslater."

"Youneedanything?"Drewasks.
Ishakemyhead.
Hehugsmeonmywayoutthedoor.
And then I'm outside, and the door is shut, and Tom is staring at me with the most intense

expression.

He smells good. Every impulse in my body tells me to wrap my arms around him. Somehow, I

resist.

"Howisyourmom?"Iask.
"Great.Pete'streatingherlikeaqueen.Youokay?"
Ishakemyhead."Whateveryou'regoingtosay,canwegetitoverwith?I'mnotinthemoodfor

anticipation."

Hereachesouttotouchmebutstopshimself."Iwanttoshowyousomethingfirst.It'simportant.It

willonlytaketwentyminutestogetthere."

HisexpressionisearnestenoughthatIbelievehim.Okay.I'vecomethisfar.Icansurviveanother

twentyminutes.

Tompullshiscarkeysfromhispocketandoffersthemtome."Youhavealicense?"
"Yeah,butit'sbeenawhile."
"Youwanttodriveher?She'salotoffun."
"Iguessso."Itakethekeys,slideintothedriver'sseat,andturnthecaron.
"Gotyousomething."Tomreachesintothegloveboxandpullsoutapairofwomen'ssunglasses.

Hehandsthemtome."You'llneedthemifyoudecidetostayinLosAngeles.It'sbrightashellhere."

"Thank you." They're nice shades. Designer. A black frame with a slight cat eye. Grey lenses. I

slide them on and check my reflection. Not bad. I almost pull off rock star girlfriend. But then I
shouldn'tgetaheadofmyself.

***

Tomdirectsmesouthonastreetthatrunsparalleltotheocean.Bythetimehetellsmetoleavethe
maindrag,Ihavethehangofdriving.

Hepointstoaparkingspaceinfrontofasmallwhiteandgreyapartmentcomplex.We'reafew

blocksfromthebeach,closeenoughtohearthewavesandsmellthesalt.There'sbeautifulsoftlight
everywhere.Andtheoceanseemstogoformiles.

"It'sthroughhere."TomleadsmetoadoormarkedThree.Hetakesbackthekeysandusesoneof

themtounlockthedoor.

Okay.We'regoingintoastrangeapartment.It'snothis.HelivesinHollywood.Whatthehellishe

tryingtoshowme?

It'sabeautifulplace.Lightstreamsthroughthewide-openwindows.There'sasmallkitchenalong

thewall.Abed,acouch,adresser,achangingscreenintheback.

And there's photography equipment. A tripod. A lighting kit. Gold and silver bouncers. Stands.

Theremustbeafewthousanddollarsworthofaccessorieshere.

"Whatisthis?"Iask.
"It'syourphotostudio."
"Ican'taffordthis."
"The lease is paid for the next twelve months. If you don't want it, ignore it. But it's yours." He

takesthekeyofftheringandhandsittome.

It'ssharpedgespressagainstmypalm.Imeethisgaze."Idon'tevenknowifIwanttorunmyown

studio."

"Yes,youdo.Yougetthislookofexcitementinyoureyeswheneveryoutalkaboutit.Whenever

youlookatyourphotos.Youcanthinkwhateveryouwantaboutme,kid.ButI'mnotgoingtowatch
yourunawayfromyourambition."Hestaresbackatme."Youdeservetheworld.ThisistheleastI
cando."

"Ican'ttakeyourmoney."
"Thenconsideritapayment."
"Forwhat?"
"Ineedyourhelpwithsomething."
Soundsimplausible.Itakeadeepbreath."What?"
Hepullshiscellphonefromhispocket."Youtoldmetospinthestoryasthetruth."
Inod.
"That'swhatIdid."Hetapsthescreenafewtimesandhandsthephonetome.
It'sthesamegossipsitebuttheheadlineistotallydifferent.
TomSteeleConfirmsIdentityoftheMysteryGirlandHe'sMadlyinLove.
What?
Madlyinlove.
Withme.
Myheartbeatpicksupuntilit'stheonlythingIcanhear.
"Keepgoing,getsbetter,"hesays.
Ido.
There's a picture. A selfie Tom took. From his gorgeous green eyes to the jut of his hipbone.

Only.

No.
There'sfreshinkonhishipbone.Asingleword.
Willow.
MyhandsaresosweatyInearlydropthephone.
"Milesdiditfirst,buthegothisonhischest.Figuredthiswasthebestwaytooneuphim."
IstarebackatTom."You...Youdidn't."
He nods, unbuttons his jeans, and pulls them down low enough to reveal the ink. There it is, in

curvingblackletters.Myname.Onhisbody.Forever.

"Tom."IsetthephoneonthewindowsillbeforeIbreakthedamnthing."I..."
"Iloveyou,Willow.Tookmeawhiletofigureoutwhatthatmeant,twopeoplelovingeachother,

but I'm sure." He slides his arms around my waist. "Now I need your help making sure the whole
worldknowsit."

"How?"
Hepointstothecamerapokingoutofmypurse.
"Andyou'repayingmeforthisservicewithayearofstudiorent?"Iask.
"Unlessyoudemandtwoyears."Hepullsmecloser.
"No,oneyearisplenty."Mylaughisnervous.Helovesme.Itugathisjeans."Showmeagain."
Hedoes.
Itracetheletterswithmyfingertip.
Tomrunshishandthroughmyhairandlooksmeintheeyes."Ihopeyou'reokaywiththewhole

worldthinkingyou'remygirlfriend."

"Aslongasthewholeworldknowsyou'remyboyfriend."
He nods and presses his lips into mine. The world shifts into focus. Everything is easy. Light.

Perfect.

Thenhepullsbackandhebringshismouthtomyear.

"Iloveyou,"hewhispers.
Andsomehowtheworldgetsbetter.
Iwhisperback."Iloveyoutoo."
Heteases."HowcanIbesureyou'renotsayingthatbecauseyouwanttogetintomypants?"
"YoucanaskmeagainafterI'mdonewithyou."
Hetakesmyhandandleadsmetothebed."Icanarrangethat."Tomdoesawaywithhist-shirtas

hepullsmeintothebed.

His lips go to mine. It's like all the kisses before it but it's better in every way. Feelings pour

betweenus.Love.Affection.Tenderness.

I'vegotnopatience.Ineedourbodiesjoining.Ineedthislovepouringbetweenuswithnothingin

theway.Noclothes.Nodeceit.Noholdingbackourfeelings.

Ipulloffmytanktopanddoawaywithmybra.Tomrespondswiththesameeagerness.Kissing

mylips,myneck,mychest.

He pulls my underwear to my knees and runs his fingertips over me. It's too much. I'm already

sensitive.AndIneedhim.Allofhim.

Ipushhisjeansandboxersoffhiships.Thenthey'reathisfeetandmyhandistracingthelinesof

thattattooagainandagain.

That'salottoliveupto.ButI'mgametotry.
Ispreadmyknees."Please."
Hegroansasheslidesintome.I'mhome.Everytimewe'vebeentogetherhasbeenamazing,but

it'sneverbeenlikethis.

Wemovetogether,archingandgroaningandthrustingtogether.Ourlipslockandwekisshard

anddeep.Innotimeatall,anorgasmracesupinsideme.Iholdhimclose,groaninghisnameagain
andagainasIcome.

It'sbeautiful,watchingpleasurespreadoverhisface.Betternowthathe'smine.Afterafewmore

thrusts,he'scoming,moaningagainstmyskinashefillsme.

Tomstaysontopofme,insideme.God,itfeelsright,ourbodiestogether.
Istareupintohiseyes.Thisiseverything."Istillloveyou."
Hesmiles."Youjustcame.I'mnotsureyourwordistrustworthy."
"Guessyou'llhavetotryagainlater."
"Ihaveplanstomakeyoucomeagainlater."
"Tomorrow?"
"You'redefinitelycomingtomorrow."
"Thenextday?"
"Everydayfortherestofourlives."
Asmilespreadsacrossmylips."Iloveyousomuch."
Herunshisfingertipsovermyjawline."Iloveyoutoo."

EPILOGUE

Themostrespectedphotoeditorinthecountryisshakingmyhand.Therearewordscomingoutof
hermouth,somethingaboutlovingmyportraits,aboutwantingtohiremetoshootafeatureforher
magazine.AfeaturespotlightinganA-list,Oscarwinningactress.Somethingedgy,withpersonality,
likealltheselovelyphotosonthewall.

Inodyesandpointhertomyagent.DoIreallyhaveanagent?It'shardtobelievethatthisismy

life.

Afamiliarvoicegrabsmyattention.
"Willow,sweetheart,thesephotosareamazing."Hazeltakesmyhandandpullsmeawayfromthe

editor. She scans the walls of the gallery and settles on the first of my dozen pictures—a moody
portraitofTom."Iwasworriedyou'dgivenupphotographytofollowhimaroundthecountrywhen
youturnedmedown."

"NowayinhellI'dgivethisup."
Hazelsmiles."I'malmostgladyouaren'tmyassistant."
"Almost?"Iask."What'swrongwithmyreplacement?"
"Hisegoisbiggerthanyourboyfriend'sandhe'snotevenhalfasattractive."HazelnodstoTom

inthecorner,directingastarstruckgalleryattendeetooneofmyportraitswithaproudlookonhis
face."Enjoythisnight.It'stheonlytimeyou'llbemoreindemandthanheis."

"ThankGod.I'mnotsurehowtheguysdothiscelebritything.It'sexhausting."
Hazelkissesmeonthecheek."I'mproudofyouhoney.Yourparentshere?”
I shake my head. "No. We're not close. But—" I point to Ophelia, in the corner next to Tom.

"Tom'smotherishere.She'ssweetandbadass.You'dlikeher."

Oh.They're looking atthe portrait ofOphelia, the one Itook, in herwords, to immortalize her

onegoodtit.Itgavemeanidea—toofferdiscountedandfreeboudoirshootstocancerpatients,to
helpthemfeelathomeintheirbodiesagain.

Thedemandhaskeptmebusy.Reallybusy.Butit'smorethanworththetimecrunchforthejoy

thatspreadsoverpeople'sfacesastheylookattheirfinishedpictures.

Hazellaughs."You'vealwaysbeenadaydreamer.I'mgladyouhaven'tchanged.Goodluckwith

everything."

She nods goodbye. There's someone else ready to talk to me. A fan. I have a fan. It's totally

bizarre.IhaveadozenportraitsinthemostprestigiousgalleryinallofLosAngeles.Ashowingof
mywork.Forthenextsixmonths.Theownerischargingoutrageoussumsformywork.

It'sdizzying.
Imakeitthroughanotherfiveintroductions.Thenten.I'maboutreadytodropwhenIfeelarms

aroundmywaist.MybodyfloodswithwarmthasTompullsmecloser.

"Youhanginginthere,kid?"Tompresseshislipsagainstmyneck.
"Mmmm.I'dratherbedoingthissomewhereelse."
"Yousure?"
"Positive."
Iscanthepackedroom.It'sbeenasolidthreehoursofschmoozing.It'soverwhelming,everyone

heretosupportme,toseemywork.

My studio business started slowly—a few clients here, a few clients there, but now I'm booked

MondaytoThursdayandeveryotherSaturday.ImostlyshootboudoirbutImaketimetosqueezein
editorials,headshots,evenengagementphotos.Atfirst,Tomhelpedwiththepracticalbits,butnowI
havethehangofit.

I'mareal,honesttogoodnessbusinessowner.
Arealworkingartist.
Hishandsgotomyhips."Ihavesomethingtoshowyou."
"Whatisit?"
"Asurprise."
"CanIhaveahint?"
"No."
"WhatifIhaveasurpriseforyou?"Ido.Ican'tbelieveI'vemanagedtokeepitasecretthelast

fewdays.

"Oh,you'reafteraquidproquo,areyou?"Hepullsmeoutofthegallery,ontothequietBeverly

Hillsstreet."Maybeifyougofirst..."

Mycheeksflush.Iknowhe'llloveit,butI'mstillnervous."Hastobeathome."
Heleadsmetometotheneighborhoodaroundthecorner.Hisredsportscarisparkedinfrontof

someseveral-million-dollarmansion.It'saniceplace.Toonice,asHazelwouldsay.

Tompullsthepassenger'sdooropen."Thenmysurprisefirst.You'llhavetowait."
"You'reatease."
Heslidesintothedriver'sseatandturnsthecaron."Youkeeptalkinglikethat,andI'llgetideas,

kid."

***

Tomdoesn'tdrivetowardshisplaceinHollywood.Hegoeswest.

Thetopisdown.Thecoldairsendsgoosebumpsupanddownmyarms.Butit'sworthitforthe

viewofthesky.Thestarscomeintofocusthefurtherwegetfromthecenterofthecity.Bythetime
we'reinVeniceBeach,theskyisfilledwiththem.

"Wherearewegoing?"Iask."Yourplaceisintheotherdirection."
"Isit?"
IturntowardsTomtotakeineveryounceofaffectioninhisexpression."You'reuptosomething,

Mr.Steele."

"Notyet."Hewinks."Butsoon."
Okay.It'sasurprise.Somethingtellsmeit'sanamazingsurprise.
Afterfiveminutesdrivingcitystreets,wepullintoaneclecticneighborhood.Intothedrivewayof

ahouseonthebeach.

It'sactuallyonthebeach.Thebackyardissand.
Myheartbeatpicksup.We'restayinginahouseonthebeach?Therearealotofwaysthiscango,

andthey'reallamazing.

Tomturnsthecaroff.Heholdsuphiskeyring,showingoffonekeyinparticular.It'sshiny.New.
This place is gorgeous on the outside—very modern, all sharp corners and glass. Big white

window shades provide plenty of privacy. If privacy is what we want. If not, well... it has quite the
potentialforshowingoff.

It'sjustasbeautifulandmoderninside.Thedenhasallsortsofoptionsforseatingorscrewing.A

couch.Arug.Anarmchair.Wait.That'sTom'sarmchair,theonethatisusuallyinhisbedroom.

Huh.
He'ssmilingwide.Proud.Excited.
"That's your chair." I scan the room again. It's flashy and classic at once. There's only one

possibility."Thisisyournewplace?But...whendidyoumove?Isawyoutwodaysago."Thegallery
openinghaskeptmebusy.

"It'sournewplace."Hepullsanotherkeyringfromhispocketandhandsittome.
"WhataboutPete?"
"Hehasamansiontohimself.Don'tthinkhe'scomplaining."
Myfingerscurlaroundthekey."Ournewplace?"
Henods."Youlikeit?"
"It'sperfect."
"Good.Iboughtit."Heslideshisarmsaroundmywaist."It'sours,evenifmynameisonthedeed.

It won't matter soon... It will..." He runs his fingers through his hair. "It's only a ten minute walk to
yourstudio."

He'snervousaboutsomething.It'shardtofocusonthatwhenI'minsuchanamazinghouse.Our

house.Thathebought.Forus.

Thewordsbouncearoundmyhead."We'relivingtogether."
Hesmiles."Yeah,weare."
"Andinthemornings,I'llwakeuptothesmellofcoffeeandyouinthekitchenallsweatyfrom

thegym."

"Yousleepthatlate?"
"I'mabusinessowner.IcansleepaslateasIwant!"
"There'sanofficeupstairs."Hepresseshislipsagainstmyneck."It'syours."
Ihavemyownoffice.Itakehishandandpullhimtowardsthestairs."Let'ssee."
"Mmm,bossytoday."
Tomleadsmeintotheoffice.Everythingissetup—athick,whitesittostanddesk,anergonomic

chair,averyexpensivedesktopcomputer.TheoneI'vebeeneyingforages.

Thereareframedprintsonthewall.Mywork.Asmatteringofdifferentstylesbutallinblackand

white.

He squeezes me then leads me through a tour of the place. The master bedroom is especially

gorgeous. It's decked with a king bed, string lights, and a disco ball. There's a walk in closet and a
masterbathroomwithatubthatfitstwo.

Tomleansintowhisper."There'saparticularlyspaciousshowerinthebathroomdownstairs."
"Whateverwouldweusethatfor?"
"Gettingclean."Herunshisfingersovermyneck."Infact,I'mthinkingit'sabouttimeforthat."
Ilookupintohiseyes."Ihavetoshowyousomethingfirst."
Hestaresbackatme."Youwanttoshowmesomethingbeforeseeingmenaked?Mustbepretty

good."

"It'sbetter."ItakeadeepbreathasIreachforthelightswitch.Iwanthimtoseethisinasmuch

detailaspossible.

Okay.Heregoesnothing.Ipullmydressupmythighsandhips.
"Hatetobreakittoyou,kid,butI'veseenthisbefore."Hesmiles."NotthatI'mcomplaining."
"No,I..."Ipushmypantiestomykneesandpointtomyhipbone.Tomyfreshink.Tomincurvy

letters,thesamescriptashistattoo.

His eyes go wide. "You... you..." He drops to his knees and runs his fingertips over my skin.

"Willow."Helooksupatmewithallthiswonderandaffectioninhiseyes."Whendidyougetthis?"

"RememberwhenIwentshoppingwithKaraandMegafewdaysago?"
Henods.
"Iwentwiththem.Butnotshopping."
"You..."Heswallowshard."You'rethatsureyou'llneverleave?"
"More."

"HowthefuckdidIgetsolucky?"Heslideshishandtomystomach,holdingmydressabovehis

headashetracesthelinesofthetattoowithhistongue."AsmuchasIlovethatdress,Ineeditgone."

Iloveittoo.It'sthesamedressIworethefirstnightweweretogether.
ButI'mjustasdesperatetogetridofit.Afteroneswiftmovement,it'sapileonthefloor.Mybra

joinsitquickly.

"You'refuckingperfect."Hepresseshislipsagainstmystomach.
Thenlower.
Lower.
Almost.
Itugathishair.
Tomplantssoftkissesupmythigh,startingatmykneeandworkinghiswayupuntilhe'salmost

there.Thenheswitchestomyotherlegandstartsatmykneeagain.

Hedoesitagain.
Mysexthrobswithprotest.Ineedhimineverywayit'spossibletoneedaperson.
Again.
Andagain.
Thenhistongueisagainstmeandeverythingelsemeltsaway.Idigmyhandsintohishairashe

licksme.Upanddownandleftandright,almostwhereheneedstobe.

Whenhefinallypresseshistongueagainstmyclit,mykneesbuckle.Istumble.
Tom rises to his feet in time to catch me. He throws me into the bed, spreading my knees and

plantinghisfacebetweenmythighs.Nomoreteasing.Histongueplungesinsideofme.

Pleasurespreadsthroughmycore.Ipant.Iscream.Itugatthecleanwhitecomforter.
Heworkshiswaybacktomyclit,teasingwithlightstrokes.Thenharder.Harder.I'mclose.Every

inchofmefeelssogood,soutterlyhis.

Harder.
There.
Isqueezehisshoulder.Withthenextflickofhistongue,Icome.Mysexspasms,pleasurespilling

allthewaytomyfingersandtoes.

Irelaxintothebed,revelinginaftershocksasTomkisseshiswayupmystomach,chest,neck,

chin.Hepresseshislipstomine.I'mnotshyaboutkissinghimback,tastingmyself.

Hisbodysinksintomine.Hischest.Hislegs.Hiscrotch.
He'shard.
Godyes.
Ipullbacktostareintohiseyes.Okay.There'snobeatingaroundthebushhere.Ihavetocome

outwithit.Mycheeksflush."Ihaveanidea."

Hebrushesmyhairbehindmyears."IfyouwerewearingclothesI'daskwhatyouhaveupyour

sleeve,kid."

"There'satripodinmyoffice.Andmycameraisinmypurse.Thememorycardhasroomfor

thirtyminutesofvideo."

Hiseyesgowide.
"Iwasthinkingwecouldrecordourselves...Ifyouwantto."
"Fuckyeah.Yousure?"
Inod."Haveyoueverdoneitbefore?"
"No."
"Really?"
"Yeah."Hepushesupandpullsmetomyfeet."Nevertrustedanyonewithsexypictures,muchless

video."

Mylipscurlintoasmile.
"You'reagenius.HaveImentionedthat?"Heplantsakissonmylips.
"Notrecently."
Nerves threaten to swallow me whole as I collect the necessary equipment. Makes it difficult to

attachmycameratothetripod.

ButtheexcitementonTom'sfaceismorethanenoughtoconvincemetocontinue.Igetbehindthe

camera,adjustingitsotheanglegivesusplentyofroomtoplay.

God,I'mgoingtofilmmeandTomhavingsex.
It'sgoingtobeimmortalized.Onmymemorycard.Forever.
Thethoughtsendsathrilldownmyspine.AssoonasIhittherecordbuttonthisishappening.
There.
It'shappening.
Iexplaintheangleoftheshottohim.Wehavemostofthebedandallthespaceinfrontofit.This

won'tbefancy—oneangle,straighton—butitwillbeus,ours.

Tomslideshishandovermyside."Whendidyougetthisadventurous?"
"WhenImetyou."
Hepullsmybodyintohis."Yousureaboutthis,kid?"
"Don'tyouwantsomethingyoucantakewithyouontour?Somethingofme."
Hiseyesgowide.Henods.
Then his eyes are closed and his lips are on mine. I kiss him long and hard, taking my time

exploringhismouth.Likeit'sthefirsttime.

Ipullhisshirtoverhisheadandshowthemusclesofhistorsothesameappreciation.Everypart

ofhimishardandstrong.Myfingersdigintohisskin.Shoulders,back,chest,stomach.He'syummy.

Infact.
IwanthimtofeelasgoodasIdo.Isuckonhisearlobeuntilhe'spantingandclawingatmyskin.

ThenImovetohisotherearanddothesame.

"Willow,"hegroans.
My fingers find the zipper of his jeans. I push them aside and trace the letters of his tattoo. My

nameonhisbodyforever.Andhisonmineforever.

It'sperfect.
I kiss my way down his stomach and chest as I lower myself to my knees. Ah, the view of my

nameismuchbetterhere.Willow.Thelinesaremonthsoldnow,butthey’restillcleananddefined.I
workhisjeansandboxersdownhishipsasItracetheletterswithmytongue.

Tom'seyesarewidewithdesire.Itdoessomethingtome.Makesmewanthimevenmore.
"Fuck,I'mgoingtowatchthissomanytimes."Heslideshishandintomyhair."You'reamazing."
Irunmyfingersoverhistattoo."We'reamazing."
Iwrapmyhandaroundhiscockandteasehimthewayheteasesme.Ibrushmylipsagainsthis

tip.Againandagain,untilI'mdesperatetohavehiminmymouth.

Eventhen,Itakemytimeslidingmytonguearoundhistipandplayingwiththemetalballsofhis

piercing.GoddoIlovethewayitmakeshimgroan.

Hebringshisotherhandtothebackofmyhead,nudgingmeforward.
I'veteasedhimenough.
ItakehimasdeepasIcan.
I'mdoingthisonfilm.
Holyshit.
Thethrilloftheexhibitionspursmeon.IletTomguidemewithhishandsandhisgroans,taking

him deep or shallow, sucking harder or softer. It's still amazing, watching the pleasure spread over

hisface.

Hiseyesrollbackintohishead.Hislipspart.Histhighsquiver.Onehandgoestomyshoulder

andsqueezes.

Ikeepmypace.Untilhe'sgroaning.
Hisfingersknotinmyhair."Iwanttocomeinsideyou.Getonthebedonyourstomach."
Godyes.
Ireleasehimandshifttomyfeet.Tompresseshishandsagainstmyback,kissingmesohardand

sodeepthatIforgethowtobreathe.

Whenhebreaksthekiss,hehelpsmeontothebed,positioningmetogivethecameraaperfect

viewofusfromtheside.

God,Iwanttowatchthis.
Wanthimtowatchthis.
Heshiftsbehindme,hishandsonmyhips.
Hiscocknudgesagainstmysex.Noteasingthistime.Withoneswiftthrust,heentersme.It'shard.

Deep.Igrabatthesheets,spreadingwider,givingmyselftohim.

TomandI...we'rehavingsexonourbed...inourhouse.
Oncamera.
Everythingaboutthisisforever.
Pleasurewellsupinsidemewitheverythrust.Iarchmybacktomeethim,desperatetocomewith

himthistime.

I'mnotgoingtomakeit.
"Tom,"Ibreathe."Touchme.Iwanttocomewithyou.Please."
Hegroans."Fuckyes."
Hishandslidesaroundmyhipandbetweenmythighs.Thenhisfingersareonmyclit,andIlose

trackofeverythingexceptthepleasurespillingthroughmybody.

My sex clenches. Almost. The way he's shaking—he's almost there too. I let my eyelids flutter

closed.Isoakineverythingabouthim—theskinonskin,thesoftbrushofhisfingers,thesharpness
ofhisteethscrapingagainstmyshoulder,andhishardcockdrivingintomeagainandagain.

Tom,God,Tom.
Mysexclenches,pullinghimcloser.He'sthere.Pulsinginsideme.Fillingme.Itpushesmeover

theedge.

TensionspillsoutfrommycoreasIcome.Ittakesmeafullminutetocatchmybreath.
Tomuntanglesourbodies.Heliesnexttome,presseshislipstomine,runshisfingersthrough

myhair.

"Wechristenedthenewbed,"hesays.
Inod."Wecangetthebalconynext.
"Thenthecouch."
"Andthearmchair."
"We'vealreadyfuckedonthatchairadozentimes,"hesays."ButI'mnotcomplaining."
Ikisshimdeeply.
Whenhepullsback,hestaresintomyeyes."Youhungry?"
"Alittle."
"There'sleftoverpastainthefridge.I'llmeetyouonthebalcony."
"Whatdoyoumeanleftover?Youdon'tcook."
He laughs. "I tried." He pushes off the bed and motions to the closet. "Should be a new robe in

thereforyou."

This day is already amazing. Now, on top of everything else, I have a present. I take my time

pouringthroughthecloset.AlltheclothesIusuallykeepatDrew'splacearehere.Mostofthespaceis
occupiedbyTom'sclothes.Howcanonepersonownthismanydifferentpairsofcanvassneakers?
Hehasarainbowofthem.

The robe is a beautiful silk fabric in a lovely shade of pink. I pull it around my shoulders and

cinchittightly.

Tomisalreadywaitingonthebalcony.Ourbalcony.It'sdeckedwithapatiotableandtwochairs

anditlooksoutontheocean.God,theoceanisonlyafewhundredfeetaway.Icanhearthewaves.I
cantastethesaltintheair.

It'sbeautiful.
Andcold.Thewindrollsinfromthebeach.Icinchmyrobetighterbutthatonlyhelpssomuch.
Tomslideshisarmaroundmeandpointstotheplatesofpastapomodoroonthetable."Youeat

lunchordinner?"

"Sortof."Itakeaseatanddigintothepasta.Thebasilisscorchedandthepastaisundercooked,

butsowhat?Tommadeit.AsfarasI’mconcerned,it’sperfect."Settingupforthegallerykeptme
busy."

I practically inhale my plate. Tom takes two bites of his then passes it to me. Okay, it would be

rudetorejectthefoodhecookedme.Ieatuntiltheplateisclean.

Tomsmilesashewipesstraybitsofsauceoffmycheeks.There'ssomethingdifferentabouthis

expression.Anuncharacteristicshyness.

Heslidesthetableoutoftheway,leansbackintohischair."Youknow,you'rethebestthingthat

everhappenedtome,kid."

"You'rethebestthingthateverhappenedtome,"Isay.
Hestaresintomyeyes."ItusedtobethatwhenIthoughtaboutthefuture,itwasmom,andPete,

and Sinful Serenade. How we'd hit higher on the Billboard charts or how our next video would be
bigger.Allthisstuffabouttakingontheworld."Helowershisvoice."ButIdidn'tthinkaboutwhatI
wantedattheendoftheday,whenIwashome,bymyselfinmyhead.Ididn'twantanythinguntilImet
you."

Helowershimselfontothetile.
Ontooneknee.
Holyshit.
Helooksupatme."Youmakemehappy.Inawaynothingeverhas."
Myheartthudsagainstmychest.
Tomslideshishandintohispocket.Hepullsoutaringbox."You'rewhatIwant."
Heopenstheboxtorevealathree-stonering.It'shuge,classicandflashyatonce.
It'ssoTom.
Helooksupatme."WillowDenton,willyoumarryme?"
Warmthfloodsmybody."Yes.Ofcourse."
Heslidestheringontomyfinger.
Tomrisestohisfeet.Hewrapsmeinahugandwhispersinmyear."Iloveyou."
"Iloveyoutoo."
Ipressmylipstohisand,onceagain,theworldgetsalittlebitbetter.