“Last stop was tonight. I’m in London. Five hours ahead of you. It’s two in the morning here.”
He never called on nights they performed. He usually partied afterward. “What? No party in London?” I asked.
“Yeah. They’re partying. I wasn’t in the mood. Came back to the hotel.”
That didn’t sound like Kiro. His whole tone seemed off. “Are you OK? You don’t sound like your usual self.”
He let out a sigh. “Yeah, I’m good, angel. Just tired. Long-ass tour.”
And it was two in the morning. “You want to get some sleep?”
“I’d rather hear you talk.”
When he said things like that, my whole body shivered. I loved his deep voice, and any little comment could make me anxious for my bed and my thoughts of him. Because I hated to think of Kiro being sad, I did the best I could to make him smile. I told him every small detail of my day that I thought would amuse him and gave him a recap of the best Saturday Night Live episodes he had missed while on tour. With each laugh I got out of him, my insides felt all tingly.
Kiro
I knocked on the door, trying hard not to be pissed that this piece of shit apartment complex with no fucking security was Emily’s home. This wasn’t where I’d been picturing her. And I pictured her a fucking lot.
Waiting with my hands tucked in the pockets of my jeans, I was trying to remain calm. But fuck it all, I had been waiting to see her face for months. Every time I heard her voice, my entire body went on high alert. I couldn’t rein in its attraction to Emily.
I heard a chain sliding out of the lock as the door swung open, revealing her in a pair of tiny shorts and a camisole. Her hair was tangled, and her gorgeous eyes were wide.
“Kiro,” she said, unable to hide the grin that lit up her face. It was midnight. I had changed my flight from London to come here instead of Los Angeles. I didn’t fucking miss my house. I only missed one thing while on tour, and it was this face. Fuck me.
“I wake you up, angel?” I asked, stepping into her apartment with my hands still firmly stuck in the pockets of my jeans. I didn’t trust them around Emily. They wanted to touch her.
It was then I realized she had just crawled out of bed. Her hands went to her hair as she ran her fingers through the strands, trying to tame them. But I liked it just the way it was.
“I . . . you’re here. At my apartment.” She sounded flustered. Then her nose scrunched up, and she frowned. “Oh, wait. I’m asleep. This is a dream.” Her face fell.
Fuck it! I took my hands out of my pockets and wrapped her in my arms. She inhaled deeply as I held her to my chest. “I’m very real, and you’re awake,” I told her, unable to keep the thickness out of my throat. She got to me. She was fucking with my head. Seriously fucking with it.
“You feel real.” Her arms came around my waist.
I closed my eyes and soaked her in. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, I stood there with her in my arms as long as she would let me. Hell, I would have stood there all damn night if she wanted me to.
“I thought you’d be ready to go home. Aren’t you homesick?” she asked, tilting her head back to look up at me.
“I was only missing one thing, angel. And it wasn’t in fucking L.A.” I winked as I cupped her face and felt her soft skin under my thumbs as I brushed her cheekbones.
She frowned a moment. “Do you mean me?”
I hauled her against me and lifted her inches off the floor as I took the few strides to the sofa and sank down with her in my lap. She didn’t pull away, and God, that felt good. “So fucking sweet,” I murmured, as I stared down into her face. I hadn’t made this shit up. She was better than I remembered. Fuck, she was so much better. That voice had gotten me through the tour.
“I missed you,” she said, and reached up and slipped her fingers into my hair, wrapping a few strands around them. “I’m glad you came to see me.”
On the flight here, I had practiced this. I had prepared myself for how I was going to get what I wanted. And I wanted Emily close. I didn’t want her here. Especially now that I saw where here was. This shit was not going to fly.
“Me, too. I’m also glad I got to see you like this. Messy bed hair and cute little pajamas.” I tried hard to keep my face casual instead of needy.
“This was why you wanted my address, then? Not because you were going to mail me something?” she said, a grin on her lips. Loved those lips. Wanted those lips.
“Yeah, angel. That’s why,” I assured her.
She beamed. The delight on her face at me being here was real. Just like my Emily. Real. The most real thing in my life.