Looking down into Kit’s upturned face, my gaze found his and everything else faded. This was him and me. Us. And I saw everything in his eyes. Love. Devotion. Desperation. Need.
“The band? It might be my dream, but you're my life. Please, just say yes.” He said that softly so the microphone didn't pick it up. Just for me. “We don't have to choose. We can figure this out. Give me a chance. We can have it all. Together.”
The ring sparkled with an internal fire as Kit slid it onto my finger. I looked from the ring to him, realized I hadn’t answered him yet. I'd thought it had to be one or the other. Our dreams or our love. He was right. We could have both. I could have both. I was a writer. I could write from anywhere. And where I wanted to be was with him.
“Crys? I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please, marry me.” The band stopped playing and the lights faded until everything was dark but a spotlight shining on us like we were the only two people in the world.
Heat streaked down my cheeks and I realized I was crying. Everything ached inside me, the pain fierce and powerful and so damn good. I nodded, but held up my hand. “As long as I never have to be on stage again.”
He grinned then, and he was beautiful. He had everything he'd wanted, just as I did. It took ten years, but it was time for us to have everything our hearts desired. We'd worked hard for it. Earned it. Deserved it.
“Deal. Wife.”
I leaned over to kiss him, needing to share everything I was feeling with him, with the whole world watching. Suddenly, I didn’t care. Let them watch. He was mine.
The crowd went crazy, but I tuned them out. All I cared about was the man who leapt to his feet and wrapped his arms around me. His lips crashed down on mine again and I was consumed by him, by this love that exploded like a bomb inside my chest, ripping me to shreds.
I had no defense against him. I never had.
Epilogue
Two months later…
Crystal
London. Amsterdam. Berlin, last week.
I sighed and curled up on the couch in Kit’s dressing room on the lower floors of the big stadium. We were in London for the third concert. We’d already visited all the tourist traps. He’d bent me over the couch in our hotel room last night and blown my mind, all the while talking dirty in a British accent that drove me wild. He had a knack for adapting his voice to wherever we happened to be. I teased him that he should have been some kind of CIA language expert or spy instead of a rock star. Tomorrow, we were flying to Dublin. Irish whiskey, green everywhere and Kit promising to get me naked and talk to me with a sexy Irish accent.
That might be interesting.
The loud bass beat of the concert speakers thrummed through the floor and the walls and I tapped my foot with a smile, knowing my man was doing his thing. Sharing his passion with the world.
Laptop open, I typed. So close to finished. A few more pages and I’d be done, ready to send this baby in to my editor and take a break.
Kit was ready for a break, too. Eight weeks on tour. I’d seen some amazing places, loved every minute. But all I really wanted was Kit, a warm bed, and lazy days with nowhere to go and nothing to do. He agreed, forcing Tia to space out the dates for recording the next album. Because of me—or our newfound love—the whole band had decided to slow down. They'd been chasing their dream for so long, they'd missed the fact that they had it. It was time to live a little, too.
Especially now. Especially for me and Kit. I got the go ahead from my doc to ditch the condoms. I’d been on the pill long enough to be safe from pregnancy. I could finally give Kit what he wanted, me, with nothing between us. The next time he took me, there would be no latex between us. Nothing but skin on skin. He said he wanted to fill me with his cum, mark me. Those dirty words just made me hot and eager for him.
I was going to wait two weeks until we’d be on a beach saying our wedding vows, for our wedding night. Yeah, right. I wanted Kit in me bare just as much. I ached to know we were skin to skin. And Kit would be mine forever.
I tapped the volume on my headphones and turned them up, drowning out the concert so I could focus. This book deadline was not going to ruin our wedding, or the two weeks we were going to lay around on the beach fucking like bunnies on our honeymoon.
An hour later, I slipped my laptop back into its bag, done. The great thing about this job, being a writer, was I could literally do it anywhere in the world as long as I had internet. Which meant, I could travel with the band and still make a living, still do what I loved. Neither of us had to give up our dreams to be together. Vi had been thrilled for me to work and be with Kit. Hell, she just wanted permanent access to her favorite band and the hottest guys—besides Kit.