I’m tempted to call Noah. They’re fucking tracking me? Even worse, they’re discussing it with fucking
Sloane? I realize Noah probably knows nothing about Sloane’s connection to Lila. Or that Lila even exists.
De ep down I know they’re probably doing it because they’re worried about me. Taking off for a week with no
explanation is very unlike me. I’ve never taken off with no explanation. I tend to be the one who ke eps in touch
with all three of my brothers on a daily basis.
It doesn’t make me feel any less like punching my fist through a wall right now.
She’s so damn beautiful. How can anyone be that stunning? My cock is so hot and hard I’m in physical pain. I
have never in my life been as turned on as I am for Lila Bailey.
Since the minute I saw her, my cock has become a heat-seeking missile aimed directly at her while at the same
time I’m trying to control myself so I don’t freak her the fuck out. I don’t want to be constantly hard for her. I find
myself genuinely wanting to get to know her. She’s gorgeous. Smart and sweet and fun to be with. Turns out it’s a
mind-blowing combination I’ve never seen all poured together into such an appealing cocktail of a human being
before.
It’s almost like she’s perfect. I looked for flaws. I wanted to find at least one, but no goddamn luck. As far as I
can tell, Lila Bailey is flawless.
Which is fucking with my head. Not to mention my engorged cock that has only one thing on its mind. Getting
inside. Pumping her full of hot cum until it’s spilling down her thighs.
Jesus H. I just don’t know how anyone can be that ideal. Yet here she is. For the past day I’ve been walking
some twisted line between agony and ecstasy. I’m mesmerized by everything about her. The puffy pink pout.
Those silver eyes with their long lashes that blink at me whenever I piss her off. Which is every five minutes.
Her hair is soft and wavy and cut into those layers that frame her face. Her body, all curvy and lush in that
little white bikini just about blew my fucking head off.
And now she’s mad because my meddling brother and pain-in-the-ass assistant can’t mind their own fucking
business.
Sloane and I are going to have to have a little talk. Sloane has obviously been telling Lila I have a r eputation
as a commitment-phobic man-whore who loves to break women’s hearts.
Which isn’t true at all. It’s not my fault they’re all grasping and needy. I can’t control the fact that the
falling-in-love mechanism in me is broken, which I blame on my dumpster fire of a role model. I’m not capable of
connecting with anyone on the kind of level that would allow me to love someone like that and I know that about
myself. I’ve acc epted it and I decided a long time ago—instead of worrying about it—to make the most of the
parts of my personality that allow me to have a good fucking time. So what.
I tell people that, right off the bat, so this whole myth about me being the “King of Heartbreak” is fucking
bullshit.
I climb out of the hot tub, not bothering to grab a towel. I get inside and I can hear the shower running in the
master bathroom. Fuck. She’s in there, naked, warm water running down her sweet body. She might be crying. I
could tell she was on the verge of tears. But it’s too soon for me to go in there for any of the ten thousand reasons I
want to.
What if she’s crying over him?
I’m already resolved to do better than the asshole we’re on our way to see. The loser who did break her heart
without ever giving her the time of day. And she’s fucking dreaming if she thinks I’m not coming to the wedding
with her to protect her from the fucker—which I’ll convince her of by the time we roll into Malibu.
I won’t be making the same mistake. I think about going down to the RV but there’s no way. Not when the
most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen is here. I’ll sle ep on the floor if she doesn’t want me in the bed. She might
need me for something. I might still be able to catch a hint of her dizzying scent.
There are two full bathrooms in this suite so I use the other shower, turning it on to as cold as it will go.
The icy jets do nothing to dull the pain. I need some relief or I’m going to lose my goddamn mind. I take my
painfully gigantic hard-on in my fist.
Her mouth, so soft. So hungry. The hot little virgin wants it. The way she squirmed against me, her pussy
warm and wet under that slippery little bikini. It would have been so easy to slide it to the side, to ease inside that
tight little heaven on earth n —
I come in jolting bursts so intense it’s almost unbearable. I have never come so hard in my life.
But it does little to dull the lust that rages in me like a fever. I pull on some boxers and go to the door of the
bedroom. She’s in bed now and the lights are off.
So I walk over to the far side of the bed from where she’s curled up facing the windows. “Lila?”
“Yeah?” She turns to glance at me. Moonlight catches the silver of her eyes. Dark strands of her long hair curl
over the pillows.
She’s so damn pretty. “You okay?” “Yeah. Just tired.” “I’m getting in. I don’t want you to be alone. Okay?
It’s a big bed. I’ll stay on this side.”
“Up to you.” She turns back toward the windows. She’s not going to argue, at least, but there’s a cool edge to
her r eply. I get in, lying on my back, resting my head on a bent arm on the pillow. I pull the sheet up to my waist.
We’re both quiet for a while.
I know what she’s thinking: that she’s made up her mind. She’ll ride this out, but the kiss was a mistake she
doesn’t plan on r epeating.
It’s surprisingly easy to come up with a way to make everything up to her—whatever she thinks she knows
about me. Because I want to. The need to do whatever I have to do to make her happy is burning in me along with
my new obsession.
“You’re going to like tomorrow night’s hotel even more,” I tell her, my voice low. “I booked us the penthouse
suite at the best hotel in Nashville. It’s got a view of the river but it’s directly around the corner from Broadway.
And one of my favorite Nashville bands is playing tomorrow night. We’ll have dinner at a rooftop bar and then
we’ll go dancing.”
Lila turns, facing me, curled up on her side with the duvet wrapped around her. She looks so vulnerable, so
incredibly young, with her scrubbed-clean face like a fallen angel’s. She’s so beautiful I wonder if I’m dreaming
her. “Okay.”
She’s still mad, or sad, or some combination of both that I can’t fucking handle. “I got tickets for us, too, to go
watch George Strait, Chris Stapleton and Lainey Wilson at the Ryman tomorrow afternoon. They’re only letting a
few people in. They’re going to be warming up for a fundraising event they’re doing the following night, but by
then we’ll be halfway to Aspen.”
“Really?” “Yeah.” “I love Lainey Wilson.” I’m breaking through a little. “How do you feel about
helicopters?” She blinks at me. “I hate flying.” “So that’s the reason for the road trip, instead of just jumping on a
flight to L. A.”
She nods. She’s so fucking cute I’m literally dazzled by her. “George Strait? Like, the George Strait?”
“The one and only.” “Chris Stapleton?” “Affirmative.” There it is. Her gently exasperated smile. “It’s snowing
in Aspen,” I tell her. Her eyes glimmer in the moonlight. “We can take the gondola up to the restaurant at the top
of the mountain. I’ve rented us a ski-in condo further down. With a hot tub on the deck and a
snowmobile we can take down to the resort.”
She’s watching me. “Wow. You sure know how to... arrange stuff.” It’s a good sign, that I’ve managed to
revive a fraction of her sass. You can’t be sad and sassy at the same time, I figure.
“Colton?” “Yeah?” “Why are you doing all this?” she whispers. I turn onto my side so I’m facing her. I think
about making a joke to try to make her laugh but instead I hear myself telling her the truth. “I don’t know. I think it
might be because you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and I can’t actually believe you’re real. I want to
spend time with you and get to know you.”
She’s still watching me, her little white teeth gently sinking into her bottom lip, which fully revives my
hard-on. I ignore it.
“And the more time I spend with you the more beautiful you get. I don’t know how you do it, Sunshine.”
Lila’s quiet for a few seconds. I wait for her to say something. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re dangerous,
Maddox?”
“I think you’re the one who’s dangerous.” Softly: “Well, I think you’re more dangerous.” “Well, all I’m going
to be doing tonight is staying right here, watching over you while you sle ep so you don’t have to worry about
anything.”
Her silver eyes are inky and soulful. “Stop doing that.” “Doing what?” “Saying the nicest things anyone’s ever
said to me.” “You can ignore Sloane, by the way. She thinks she knows everything about me but she doesn’t. She
doesn’t know what drives me.”
“What drives you?” It would sound cheesy as fuck to say it, but the only word that comes to mind in the
moment is... you. You’ve become the only thing I can see. I’m fucking obsessed with you. And all I’ve had is one
taste.
This sudden addiction feels more feral than anything ever has. Like everything suddenly has meaning and it’s
all magnetized toward this little moonlit goddess with her smooth skin and her wild curls and the light bruises
under her lightning-bright eyes.
I have no idea what’s happening to me but whatever it is, it’s fucking sure of itself.
I’m going to ease those bruises and fix everything that’s ever felt broken.