Page 29 of Librarian & the Rockstar

"Yeah." I swallow hard, my eyes locked on the doors of the library again. Is it too soon to admit that shit? Maybe. But when you've lived like I have, you learn to grab onto the good shit and hang on tight. If you don't, it's gone before you can blink.

I'm not willing to let Loralei be one of the things that disappears from my life. I've had the music. I've had the fame. I've checked off every goddamn thing on my list of dreams. Maybe I'm finally realizing I have new ones now, and those new dreams don't involve working myself to exhaustion or playing for sold-out crowds anymore.

They involve more nights like last night, where we talked for hours over her dinner table before she let me carry her to bed and make love to her until we were both too exhausted to move. They involve her falling asleep on my chest, and me doing my best to fuck up her hair and makeup before she even had both finished this morning.

I don't want to be relegated to the parking lot of the library, unable to stroll in to see her unless I'm in a disguise because I'll cause a scene. I want to be able to waltz the fuck in and openly monopolize her time.

"I can't get you out of the album," Jess warns me. "You have to finish it. But I can talk to the label, let them know this will be your final album. We can spin it as a farewell album. I'm sure that'll drum up plenty of publicity on its own." She pauses. "What does the band think?"

"They don't know yet, but I don't think they'll be entirely surprised." I tip my head back, glancing up at the ceiling liner. "Frankly, I think Jett and Rhodes will be relieved to hear it. They want more time with their families."

"I'll miss the hell out of you, kid," Jess sighs.

"It's not a done deal yet."

"Maybe not, but your mind is already made up," she murmurs. "All that's left to do is make it official."

Well, that and talk to Loralei. What will she say? Will she even want me here permanently? I think I know the answer to that question. It's written all over her face every time she looks at me. But…maybe I should wait until the pieces are in place to have that discussion with her.

If shit doesn't work out the way I want it to, I don't want to break her heart by promising her something too soon. When I tell her, I want her to know that it's not a maybe or something I'm considering, but a done deal. I want her to know that, out of every possible future I can imagine, I've chosen the only one I can live with. The one where I fit into her life as if I were always supposed to fill that empty spot in her heart.

Chapter Ten

Loralei

"How did you find this place?" I ask Ash, spinning in a circle in a small meadow a mile or two from his cabin. Everywhere I look, wildflowers grow in riotous clumps, turning the entire meadow into a shock of bright color. With the trees looming on either side and the sky directly ahead, it feels a little magical.

"Went for a run while you were at work yesterday," he grunts, spreading out a blanket in the very center of the clearing before placing a basket on top of it.

"Gross." My nose scrunches.

He glances at me over his shoulder, a question in his eyes.

"Running," I say, still grimacing. "Last time I did that, it wasn't by choice."

His lips curve into an amused grin. "You were forced to run?"

"Yes. Cujo's baby brother got loose. He chased me through an alley, trying to eat me," I explain, settling onto the edge of the blanket. "I felt like Pumba, running through town, screaming for my life."

Ash's loud laughter booms across the clearing. "Cujo's baby brother?"

"A chihuahua. Trust me, he was more vicious than he sounds," I mutter primly.

"Oh, I believe you." He lowers himself to the ground beside me, reclining back on his hands, his legs extended in front of him. "Jett has a chihuahua. That little fucker hates everyone except his daughter."

I laugh because I can believe it. "Olive has one, too. Well, I think hers is a yorkie or a chorkie, or whichever is part chihuahua. She named him Oscar because she found him in a garbage can and he's a grump. He doesn't like anyone except her." I pause, thinking about it. "Well, I guess he likes her hot neighbor and his parrot."

"Her hot neighbor?" Ash quirks a brow, a hint of jealousy flashing in his gaze.

"Um, Mason. We didn't know his name at first, so we just called him her hot neighbor," I say with a shrug. "I guess the name stuck. They're basically living together now."

"You still think he's hot?"

"You're hotter."

His eyes heat, his expression downright feral. "Right answer, baby," he practically purrs, pushing himself up to his knees to prowl toward me across the blanket. He stops when he's inches from me, his face blotting out everything. "Don't think I like you talking about other men."

"I'll make you a deal," I whisper breathlessly. "You never mention any of the supermodels you've dated, and I'll never talk about hot men."