Rhys I ’mfor wayalonetootimeimpatientwith mytogirl. suffer I agreedthroughto notthe openingsee her untilparty. we I’marrivedesperateat the club, as long as we bypass the warm-up session downstairs and jump right into action behind closed doors. If she wants to soak in the vibe, we can always go downstairs when I’m finished ravishing her body. Once people satiate their carnal desires, the mood changes. It goes from feral to mellow. Since we’re not allowed to use our phones inside the club, my girl sent me a text right before getting out of the Rolls-Royce. She should be here soon. I pace the luxuriously decorated room, a tumbler of scotch in hand. When the distinctive sound of the door opening echoes, I rush to it. Keira pushes it open, st eps into the room, and closes it behind her. My heart fucking stops. “Holy shit, you’re hot.” The words spill from my lips. She smiles wide. Hazel-green eyes brush over my body. “You look handsome.” “Please,” I say. “My navy-blue silk pyjamas don’t hold a candle to the cock-hardening combo you’re wearing. First thing Monday morning, I need to find out if I can buy stocks for French Appliqué. If I can’t, I may have to consider buying the business.” She gives me a twirl. “You like?” I drink up every delicious inch of her little body. The bright-pink silk chemise is quite short, but the robe that hits her right below the knee balances things nicely. “I want to see you. Take off the robe.” She does as she’s told and throws it to the nearby armchair. She gives me another twirl. The chemise is a loose fit, and the barely there straps harden my cock. “Come here,” I say, reaching out for her. I crush my lips to hers. I kiss her with urgency, passion, and hunger. I’ve dreamt of locking lips so many times over the past ten days, it’s embarrassing. My tongue strokes along all the curves and hollows of her beautiful mouth. My hands roam over the body I’ve missed and longed to touch. With each caress and with each tongue stroke, my cock grows harder and thicker, aching with the unreasonable need to be inside her. I break our embrace and run my hands down her arms. “How do you want it?” “No appetizers, champagne, or desserts first?” “Beckett and I made sure you ladies had plenty of champagne and desserts on the way here.” We’re not stupid. We nixed any possible objections. “So, to answer your question, I know for a fact you’re ready to go.” Each room has a wine fridge and a fully stocked bar. I can also order food and dessert with one phone call. For the sake of my hungry cock, it’s best not to mention it. She responds with a wicked smile. “I get to choose?” “You get a say. I’ll let you know if I’m in the mood or not. What’ll it be, dimples?” She pulls her lips between her teeth. “I’m waiting.” She averts her gaze. “I saw something downstairs...” “Eyes on me.” She obeys. “What did you see?” She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and peers up at me from under her lashes, which look like they’re ten inches long right now. “A couple...” She bites the inside of her cheek. I place two fingers under her chin and force her gaze to mine. “You understand what this club is about?” “Yes, I do, but... it was pretty out there...”
Whatever her heart desires, I’ll give it to her––no matter how lewd. Though I put my foot down at sharing her with another man or woman. “You want to try whatever you saw?” She stares at me, lips twisted to the side. She’s debating. As she does, a new song kicks in. I can’t help but chuckle at the bridge, ‘Tonight I’m Fucking You’. “That’s what I’m trying to do to you.” I point to the speakers encased in the ceiling. “Help a guy out.” She laughs. “Come on, woman, tell me what you saw.” “Your fingers.” I knit my eyebrows together. “All this drama and angst because you want me to finger-fuck you? I don’t get it. That’s hardly a novelty.” “It’s a lot more than that.” “Then tell me.” “It would be easier if I showed you.” “Now you’re talking,” I say with a grin. “Sit down,” she says. I cock an eyebrow. “Please, Rhys.” I give the orders, but I’ll allow it. I move to take a seat on the couch, but she stops me. “The couple downstairs were on a chair. You should do the same.” I have no idea where this is heading, but I’ll play along. I drag one of the two chairs situated behind the small round table in the corner of the room to where she’s standing. I take a seat and wait. I know my girl well enough to tell when she’s nervous. A rarity for her. “You’ve come this far, go all the way,” I say. “Well...” Her cheeks flush, competing with her bright pink chemise. “Yes?” I nod a few times, hoping she’ll give me more to go on. “Keira, you’re never shy asking for what you want.” “Nothing like this,” she says. “Try me,” I say. “I think the idea is for me to fuck your fingers,” she says. “We’ve been down that road.” “It’s not what you think,” she says. “The woman was wearing a short baby doll top, and from the way she was riding the guy’s hand, I’m guessing she either went commando or she was wearing crotchless panties––” “Are you wearing crotchless panties?” She shakes her head. “I’m not.” I’m disappointed. “Ke ep talking.” “The guy’s hand was on his lap and the woman was bouncing up and down on his fingers as if she was bouncing on his cock.” She blurts that out in one breath. A burst of adrenaline shoots through my bloodstream. The salacious visual assaults my senses in the best possible way. “Too much?” Uncertainty coats her question. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap.” I reach out a hand to her. She takes it. “I gather you’re up for it?” “I’m up for it, little girl.” Giggling, she straddles my lap. I run my hands over her skin and her chemise. Her bare thighs are warm under my touch as I skim the silk fabric upward, bunching it around her waist. When my eyes land between her legs, my cock stirs. “No underwear?” “No. You k ept reminding me all day long you couldn’t wait to have access to my pussy. I figured, why bother with a barrier?” I nod my appreciation. “How many fingers do you want?” “How many fingers do you usually give me?” “D epends on my mood.” “I’ll let you decide.” Her voice is de ep and chocolatey. The reverberation travels to my balls. “You asked for it.” She grins. “I certainly did.” I drop a soft kiss against her lips. “Get up.” She does as she’s told. I place the back of my hand on my thigh and hold up three fingers. She looks down, a cocky smile pulling at her lips. When our eyes meet, the hunger and lust shining bright in them is
mouthwatering. I tap a couple times on the side of my other thigh. “Hop on.” She lowers herself over my fingers. Fuck. My body is so tightly coiled with need, I could come without her touching my cock. “Remove the damn chemise. I need to see my fingers fucking your pussy.” I don’t have to ask twice. “You’re dripping wet.” My eyes are fixed to the spot she left on the dark silky fabric of my silk pyjama pants. “This is so hot,” she says. “You’re so hot.” She responds with a lazy smile. “Ride my fingers, baby.” She places her arms over my shoulders and starts to move slowly, up and down. “Oh God,” she says. Her movements are restrained, as if she’s testing the water. “Don’t make me waste my time.” My voice holds a warning. Her eyes shoot to mine. “Either you fuck yourself with my fingers, or get off.” A flash of anger sparks in her eyes. She moves with more determination, grinding her hips in circles and coming down in a precise angle so her clit rubs against my hand. “That’s more like it,” I say. She narrows her eyes at me. “This is my fantasy, but for some reason you’re taking ownership of it.” “Like I take ownership of every delicious part of you,” I say. “We both know you like it that way.” I’m rewarded with a wide smile. She picks up the pace, gyrates her hips and bounces off my hand over and over again. Her gorgeous tits bounce in sync as she gives herself to pleasure. My God, she’s beautiful. Nothing brings me more pleasure than to watch her take hers. I place my free hand over my cock, moaning as I squeeze hard. I can’t decide if it’s to prevent me from coming or push me to spill my cum. She laces her fingers behind my neck and loses her fucking mind. I try to ignore the impatient demands coursing through my veins because this is about her. Each time she lands on my hand, she lets out a helpless cry. The sight of her unleashed calls out the most feral and savage part of me. “I can smell how much you’re enjoying our dirty little play.” She whimpers. “Your hedonistic scent is doing things to me.” “Dear God.” She grinds harder over my fingers. This woman is making me lose my goddamn mind. Right on cue, the song changes. The lyrics of ‘I Put a Spell On You’ explain my predicament better than I ever could. I’m under Keira’s spell and I wouldn’t want it any other way. “I’m so close,” she says, circling her hips in wild bucks. She slams hard against my hand and clenches her pussy tight around my fingers. Her cadence is feverish. I catch her lips with mine and devour them in a punishing kiss. I pull away. “You want more?” “I’m not sure I can take more.” Her hazel-green eyes darken with desire, contradicting her words. “You can. I want you to come so hard, they hear you on the first floor.” A long sighing moan es capes her lips. So fucking beautiful. So fucking perfect. So fucking mine. I heighten her pleasure by curling my fingers, searching for her sweet spot. “Oh, yes, there.” To ensure she gives me what I want, I press my thumb against her clit. “I’m close. So, so close.” Her head lolls back. “Eyes on me.” She obeys. Her heavy-lidded eyes are veiled with so
much lust, you’d think she was drunk. “Now give me what I want and no holding back. Understand?” She bobs her head a few times. If I thought she was wild before, I was wrong. “That’s it, baby,” I say. All movement stops, her breath hitches, and her mouth drops open. Her pussy leaks with sticky juices running down my hand and staining my pyjama pants. “Good girl.” Her hand travels to my nape, her fingers pulling at my hair. Fuck, yeah. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.” She’s staring right at me, but I wonder if she can see me or if she’s too lost to her pending orgasm. She rocks her dripping pussy over my palm, angling her hips, pressing her clit against my thumb, taking what’s hers. Her breaths are ragged and a moan es capes me as I admire her in awe. My cock gives a sharp, tense throb where it’s trapped inside my pyjama pants and begging to be freed. I squeeze my cock hard, telling myself not to come. “I—I’m gonna come.” She arches her back. “That’s it, chase after your climax, slut.” She’s frantic. On the heel of her next thrust, her body tenses, trapping my fingers de ep inside her. “Oh, yes, yes, yes. I’m coming.” She’s loud. Fucking beautiful. Her hoarse cries cause my cock to swell. Her sated and boneless body slumps against mine. We’re fused together and I’m certain she can feel my heart thumping in my chest. I kiss the top of her head. “Wow...” she says. “That was so incredible and so powerful. I feel the need to track down that couple and thank them.” I chuckle. “You came hard for me, baby.” “I thought I was going to faint.” “That was a good warm-up, but we’re not done yet.” “Don’t I get a break?” “You will. Once I’m done fucking you,” I say. “Feel how hard I am after watching you come so beautifully.” She presses a hand on my cock, stroking me. “Someone needs relief.” “Someone’s about to get it.” I stand up with her in my arms. She wraps her legs around my waist. I st ep over to the bed and drop her on it. With impatient fingers, I unbutton my pyjama top and shrug out of it. The bottoms come off in a flash, and my cock points north. It throbs so hard, the pulse hammers in my temples. I fist my cock, hard and hot in my palm. I move my hand up and down my erection, enjoying the way her heated gaze is glued to me. I groan as a bead of cum leaks. “Fuck, I missed your big cock,” she says. Her words flame my desire. The first month after the accident, sex was off the table. As days rolled into weeks, we fooled around, but she had a limited range of movement because of her cast. I’m also responsible for our forced celibacy. I was so paranoid we would make things worse and delay her recovery, I reined in my appetite. My fist became my best friend for a while. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make for her. But now, I need to be inside her so fucking bad. I lower myself to the bed next to her. The missionary position is last on the list, however, tonight, I want her eyes boring into mine when I fill her up with my cum.
“On your back.” She does as she’s told, spreading her legs open. Soon, my cock will be balls de ep into all this goodness. I position myself on top of her and angle my cock between her pussy lips, rubbing her clit with the tip. My lover moans so beautifully, I have to squeeze my cock to stop from coming. Christ Almighty. I part those puffy pussy lips with my engorged cock head and slam into her in one swift thrust. Her hands grab my ass. “Fuck me, Rhys. Fuck me.” A few frantic thrusts, and my balls tighten, announcing the end of the ride before it even begins. Shit. I fuck my girl like a hormone-raging teenager with zero control and zero game. I try to slow down my pace, but a stronger force takes over. “Don’t stop, Rhys. Please. Don’t stop.” Her throaty moans are my undoing. “Your clit.” It’s a struggle to say those two words. “Touch it.” With her eyes fixed on mine, she licks her finger and then works her clit. I fuck her harder because this is so damn hot. “Fill me with your cum. I need it all,” she says. Well, hell. I’m sure it’s a combination of the illicit setting, my desperate yearning, the many lonely nights of solo sex and the straight up horniness, but goddammit, I love her dirty mouth. “I can’t get enough of this sweet little pussy.” “Then fuck my sweet little pussy harder, big guy.” Jesus. I grant her wish. Her inner muscles clench in response. Fuck. She does it again. And again. I can’t breathe. I’m going to die. I’m going to fucking die. “I’m— Oh, Rhys— I’m—” Hearing my name on her horny lips is more than I can bear. “Oh Rhys—” she jumps off the edge of the cliff with me, giving in to her orgasm at the same time as I succumb to mine. I fuck my baby like a man possessed, grunting and gasping as my cock erupts inside her, and for one long moment it feels like we’re lost in each other, crying out, bucking as one until the final slam. Slowly, I slide out of her and fall to the bed next to her. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close to me. “I missed this. I missed us,” she says, panting for breath. “Same here, dimples.” I wipe the sweat from her brow with my thumb. “These past ten days killed me. I hated being away from you for that long.” “It was the same for me.” “I want you every second— No, I need you every second of every day.” “Oh, Rhys.” “I love you.” The words slip from my lips, but I don’t want to take them back because I realize now that’s how I feel about this gorgeous woman. Her eyes widen. “You—you didn’t just say that?” “I did.” A tear trickles down her beautiful face and she shakes her head, as if she’s unwilling to believe me. “Keira Weatherly. I. Love. You.” I leave no room for misinterpretation. “You do?” “My love for you is crazy. You’re my everything. If I wasn’t sure about it before leaving LA, being away from you affirmed what I knew in my heart.” “You have no idea what hearing you say that does to me,” she says with a sob.
I kiss away her tears. She nuzzles her face into the crook of my neck. “I love you so much, Rhys.” Her confession comes out muffled. “You can’t say something like that and not look me in the eye.” She laughs a little. She lifts her gaze to mine. “I love you, Rhys Hartford,” she says. “I never thought––” She hiccups. “I never thought we’d get to this point.” She pauses. “When the accident happened, I begged Shane to tell you how much I loved you in case I didn’t make it. He refused my request at first, but I wouldn’t shut up until he promised. I didn’t want to die without you knowing I’d loved you for most of my life.” “Shhh...” I press my lips to her forehead. “I’m glad Shane never told me. He didn’t have to. You get to tell me.” “I love you,” she says. “I no longer have to hide my feelings for you. You’re the one. It’s always been you, Rhys.” “What a declaration, dimples.” “It’s been trapped inside me for years, percolating. That’s why it came out with as much gushing force as a geyser.” She laughs and cries, all the while dropping kisses all over my face. “You own my heart, Rhys.” “Oh, Keira, I fucking love you.”
Epilogue 1 Keira Sixteen months later I have Worlda Warfront IIIrowmightseateruptto historyanytimein soon. the making, and from the looks of it, “You faulted on the bariolage,” Tomas his music partner. “I did not,” Anders says. This competitive banter has been going on for a while. Even from down here, it’s clear Anders seems pissed off. At least, I think he is. You never know with these two. Tomas Lazovi n and Anders Benkovi n love to razz each other. The Cello2 Cello guys play so well together because they have insane synergy... unless they’re arguing, like they are now. “Anders, you totally did,” Tomas says. “This is rock, not baroque. Pick up the pace, mate. Maybe a little more headbanging as well.” “Fuck off, Tomas,” Anders says. “Just sayin’.” Tomas flashes his music partner a devilish grin. “We’re playing tomorrow night to a sold-out crowd and we have some of the best musicians on stage with us. You don’t want to come across like an amateur newbie.” I lean into Levi, who’s sitting next to me. “See what I have to endure when I work with these two?” “I feel your pain,” Levi says. “Anders and Tomas have perfected the good cop, bad cop routine with a twist. In their case, it’s more like the uptight cellist, pompous cellist routine.” I crack up. “It’s not difficult to figure out who’s who,” I say. Levi grins from ear to ear. “Tomas Lazovi n is the cocky and pompous cellist.” I chuckle. Levi Aldridge and I are sitting in the audience while some illustrious musicians warm up for Cello2 Cello’s concert for two thousand adoring fans taking place tomorrow night. It’s happening right here at the Los Angeles Music Center. Contrary to the musicians on stage, Levi is more of a behind-the-scenes kind of guy. The tall man with brown hair and mesmerizing aqua-blue eyes is part of Rhys’s entourage. He and his brother Linc are the genius magicians responsible for the set design for tomorrow’s concert. Along with their talented drummer extraordinaire, Anders and Tomas, aka Cello2 Cello, invited rock gods to perform with them: Beckett and his band––Random Misconc eption––which includes Holt, their cousin Jace Halsey, and drummer Hall of Famer Rod Wolfe. Badass female guitarist Stasia van Gameren will also join the cellists and the rockers on stage in an unprecedented musical collaboration. Judging from the rehearsal, tomorrow night will be wild. Like Levi, Rhys is hanging out amongst friends. I’m here because Tomas and Anders asked me to sing the closing song tomorrow night. I’m honored beyond words. We’ve been practicing a lot and I’m totally ready, but it never hurts to fine tune our performance. Not to mention, the concert marks the release of my new single, so we want to nail it. “Ke ep talking shit, Tomas, and I’ll shove my bow right up your ass.” Anders’s r epartee elicits a round of laughter. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Anders,” Tomas says. “So testy.” Anders ignores Tomas and rolls his eyes. “Isn’t it ironic that amongst us, you two are still single, yet, you sound like an old married couple,” Rhys says. He’s on stage with them. “You guys should learn from Beckett and me. We have a great working relationship. You’ll never catch us bickering like five-year-olds.”
“Fuck off!” Anders and Tomas shout in unison. We all laugh. Anders locks eyes onto Tomas. “Let’s take it from the top so I can make you eat your words.” “Challenge acc epted,” Tomas says. They take Nirvana’s ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ from the top and crush it. Anders and Tomas are classically trained cellists. It was a struggle for them to get noticed. The cello doesn’t scream cool... that’s until they came onto the scene. They single-handedly brought back to life an instrument that was almost a relic. Once they meshed the de ep tenor of their classical instrument with edgy rock music, there was no stopping them. Their electric cellos add to the whole dazzle effect. Today, they’re on top of the world. When the musicians on stage reach the last note, I jump to my feet and clap like a crazy woman. “That was amazing.” Anders and Tomas stand up and take a bow. “Let’s take a break and then we’ll rehearse ‘Thunderstruck’,” Anders says, dropping his cello on his seat. Everyone agrees. “Hey, Rhys, why don’t you earn your dinner and sing us something,” Tomas says. “Oh yeah, you can’t sing. You can only rap.” “Fuck off, Tomas,” Rhys says. “For once, I agree with Tomas,” Anders says. “But since I have more manners and tact, I would’ve phrased it differently. Rhys, it’s been a while. It would be great to hear you work the mic.” “Really?” “Yeah, really,” Anders says, walking up to my boyfriend and handing him a microphone. “I’m sure I’m not the only one. Let’s ask the audience. Anyone else want to hear him rap?” There’s a collective yeah and head nods. I chant his stage name. “Calm the hell down, woman,” Rhys says into the mic. “You’re too excited for your own good.” I ignore him. “Hijinks! Hijinks! Hijinks!” “Okay.” Rhys rolls his eyes. “The hottie wins.” “What you’re willing to do for a nice pair of legs,” Beckett says, shaking his head. “Watch your mouth, pretty boy,” Rhys says. “That’s my girl you’re talking about. And for your information, she doesn’t have a nice pair of legs, they’re stunning.” He winks at me. I blow him a thousand kisses. “I stand corrected, and you’re right, I should show her a lot more respect,” Beckett says. “After all, it’s not every day you’re in the presence of a multi-award winner. Your girl wiped the floor at the Stream Tunes Music Awards, American Music Awards, and Grammy Awards.” I blush from ear to ear. I should be used to it by now, but I still have to pinch myself for my deluge of good fortune. This past award season was ridiculous. I was so humbled by the public’s acc eptance of the musical direction I took with my career. Holt and his team gave me wings. Ditto for my amazing boyfriend, my brother and my friends. Without them, I doubt I would’ve had the courage to go all the way. Other than the encounter with Jedd Maitland in his tunnel vision pursuit of a lie, my life since I landed at LAX has been a dream.
I was floored when Jedd reached out through my publicist to apologize after the accident that left him in pretty bad shape. He felt responsible for what happened. In his view, had it not been for him, I wouldn’t have been at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Margaret’s fifteen minutes of fame fizzled faster than a votive candle burning out. She went under the radar after her publishing company dropped her. Her tell-all book was never published. The string of interviews where she spewed venom at me became a liability and put a brutal end to her aspirations as an author. I never heard from her again. I’m okay with that. “You forgot something important on the list,” Holt says to his brother. “Oh, yeah, what’s that?” Beckett is sporting a cocky grin. “She’s one of Ritual of Rhyme’s rising stars,” Holt says with a tinge of pride. I beam. I’m so happy I went with my gut. Holt is an artist first and foremost, and that has a huge impact on his business decisions. He’s not a soulless corporate type who only cares about numbers, willing to produce unoriginal overused auto-tune pop trash just for the sake of downloads or sales. His artists are real singers. And it’s not only about his ideas. He’s rec eptive to yours. He transformed me from a bubblegum singer to a real one. “I lucked out,” Rhys says. My boyfriend and I stare at each other, huge grins stretching our lips. We’ve been together for a year and a half, and sparks still fly. Another blessing to add to a long list. “Start rapping, Hartford, or get a fucking room,” Tomas says. “Don’t get your boxer briefs tied up in a bunch, Lazovi n ,” Rhys says before turning his attention to the audience of two. “I need another voice for the song I have in mind,” he says. “Levi, wanna do a duet?” “I’m no Tupac Shakur, but I’m game,” Levi says. “What song were you thinking of?” Although Levi only raps for fun, Rhys says he has some impressive skills. “’Shake That’,” Rhys says. Levi nods. “Old school?” “It’s the only way to go,” Rhys says. “I can manage some old school Eminem.” Levi’s confidence is audible. “Good stuff,” Rhys says. “I need the music score without the lyrics.” “I’m sure I can find it online and buy it with one click,” Beckett says. They share a complicit look. “When I do, I’ll plug my i Phone into the sound system.” “Excellent,” Rhys says. “Looks like everything is coming into place. Now, if I could only find a sexy backup dancer at the last minute...” I wave a frantic hand over my head as I jump up and down. “Pick me!” Rhys shields his eyes with one hand and pretends to look around the concert hall, searching for the eager beaver. His gaze lands on me. “You want to come up here and show me your dance moves?” I shout back a resounding and enthusiastic, “Yes!” He sighs into the microphone. “Since it’s slim pickings tonight, come on up, shorty.” I cross my arms over my chest and shoot him an are you fucking kidding me look. “Don’t be like that, shorty,” Rhys says. “Come up and impress me.” “That, I can do.” I offer a coquettish smile. “Make sure to follow her up here, Levi,” Rhys says. “I will,” Levi says. I balance on my high heels and run to the side door with Levi in tow. Holt is holding the door leading up to the stage and waves us over.
“I got the music,” Beckett says as I st ep onto the stage. “We’re all set on my end.” Levi scrolls through his phone while he’s walking. “You’re ready, Levi?” He lifts his phone. “Found the lyrics. I’m ready.” “Drop the beat, Christensen,” Rhys says. “You got it,” Beckett says. The old school rap song blasts through the speakers. Rhys may be impeccably dressed head to toe in expensive all black designer wear he wouldn’t have been able to afford back then, but his rhyme is as smooth as it was when his career exploded into the stratosphere. His flow is tight. His hip-hop dance moves are badass. And he owns the stage like he did in his old music videos. God, he’s so freaking hot. Rhys lifts a hand. “Hold up.” Beckett stops the music. Why did he do that? “What’s going on?” Rhys approaches me, places two fingers under my chin, and tips my head back so our eyes meet. “I didn’t invite you on stage for you to stare at me, shorty,” he says. “You promised to impress me. I’m waiting.” I jot a hip and hook a closed fist at my waist. “Did you call me out in front of your friends?” “I did,” he says. “What are you going to do about it?” He did not just challenge me. “Game. On.” “Finally, you’re going to do justice to the sexy ass shorts you’re wearing,” he says with a grin. We’re done talking here, buddy. I point to Beckett. “DJ, drop the beat.” “Yes, ma’am.” He takes it from the top. The beat blares out and everyone starts swaying to the music’s thumping beat. Rhys and Levi bring it on. I st ep into the role and start dancing like my life d epends on it. This is so crazy-good it doesn’t take me long to lose myself in the song. When the bridge hits, I do as I’m told and I shake my ass, dropping low. The guys whistle and holler. I pull my best Lucky Break moves to my audience’s delight. The lyrics aren’t the most empowering for women, but the beat is incredible. I glance at Rhys from over my shoulder. He holds the mic real close to his mouth, his eyes eating me alive. Oh, yeah, baby. I congratulate myself on my wardrobe choice. It’s a cross between runway couture chic and rocker girl badassness. I selected a pair of sexy shorts and a sheer blouse to complement a stylish sequin tuxedo blazer. All black. The super high designer heels with a strap at the ankle add a vampy element to the sex kitten look. My makeup is subdued because it’s all about the outfit. I’m still sporting short blonde hair. The overall look is super feminine and the outfit transitions perfectly for later. We’re all going for dinner at the Quintus Hotel after the rehearsal. We have a private dining room to celebrate tomorrow’s concert and my single with Cello2 Cello, which drops at midnight. When the lyrics allude to me being his slut for the night, I say, “Hell, yeah.” He grins, his glacier-blue eyes flashing with malice. The guys on stage are bobbing their heads to the beat, mouthing the lyrics. Beckett takes it one st ep further by performing some killer dance moves. I call Stasia over so she can be my dance partner. She shakes her head— and a finger—in protest. The girl can dance, I guess she’s not in the mood.
I laugh. Levi is effortlessly ke eping up with Rhys’s rhymes. It’s been years since my man st epped on stage as a performer, but Hijinks can still bring down the house. Once a rapper, always a rapper. The bridge hits. It’s time for me to shake my thang again. I do. Rhys comes and stands behind me, and we dance together, feeding off each other’s electrifying energy. We’re so in sync, you’d think we practiced this routine. I turn to face him, and we go for it. God, the man can dance. As the song fades, I take it down several notches, expecting it to end, but another song loops in. It’s a slow R&B vibe. To my absolute amazement Rhys begins to sing. He can sing? Just because you can rap doesn’t mean you can sing. Rhys always says that. I’m stunned. He has a great singing voice. Why has he been hiding this from me? The lyrics are poignant. And then to my utter disbelief, Rhys drops to one knee. My hands fly to my mouth, shock coursing through me. Four words from the bridge of the song cause my heart to stop, Will you marry me? Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I’m dumbstruck. Then, my brother Noah––who still lives in New Zealand––st eps on stage.
Epilogue 2 Rhys T his rehearsal Anders, Tomas, is a ruse. Random Misconc eption, and Stasia spent hours rehearsing earlier today. At its core, the inclusion of Beckett’s band as part of the opening act for Cello2 Cello’s concert might be his idea––and a little self-serving––but that didn’t prevent me from piggybacking on the perfect opportunity. Everyone here is my partner in crime. Tomas didn’t ask me to rap because he wanted to hear my voice. It was a sneaky way to lure my unsuspecting girlfriend onto the stage. Other than Stasia, there’s a reason none of the girls are here. Keira thinks we’re going for dinner at the Quintus Hotel after this. She’s wrong. We’re celebrating our engagement party in style amongst friends at a private room of one of the most luxurious hotels in the city. Michaela is manning things there. All the fiancées, wives, and kids are at the hotel. My mom, Phoebe, and Oscar are also there. Michaela texted me to confirm. The diehard New Yorker lives in LA now. Her first year living in La La Land rivaled the craziest rollercoaster rides, but now she’s an influential force. Keira and her are as tight as sisters. Along with a number of close friends, the Dennison brothers are on the invite list. Larkin is also part of the celebrations. For tonight, he’ll st ep out of his role as omnipresent lord of the castle and he’ll just be another one of our esteemed guests. He won’t be a regular Joe––not that that’s possible for a man in his position––as I had to concede to having two of his bodyguards posted at the private room’s door. When I reach the last note of ‘Marry Me’, Keira’s beautiful face is covered in tears. I’m not about to cut a single anytime soon, but thanks to Beckett who helped train my voice over the last three months, I’m able to carry a tune. Levi and I also practiced for hours to get it right. He was the perfect wingman. Stasia, who approached my girl while I was singing my heart out, has an arm wrapped around her in a hug. That doesn’t prevent Keira from trembling like a leaf. Beckett and Holt are on video duty. Cello2 Cello are my appointed photographers. Noah approaches her. Stasia takes a st ep aside. Noah and Keira interlace fingers. I’m still on one knee. My best friend doesn’t say anything. He stares at his little sister. “He loves you,” Noah says, jerking his head in my direction. “Not as much as I love him.” “You two belong together.”. “We do,” Keira says. “You’re here, Noah. You’re finally here.” “Rhys wanted to surprise you. I’m back in town for good, sis. It took a little longer than expected, but Los Angeles is my home now.” Keira’s brow arch. “Really?” Noah nods. “I figured I should be close by in case I become an uncle soon,” he says with a wink. “I didn’t even pop the question yet, and you’re talking about babies.” I roll my eyes. His apologetic gaze meets mine. “Sorry.” “I’m still so shellshocked to process anything, anyway,” Keira says. “Get out of the way before you do any more damage, Noah.” I shake my head. He chuckles. It’s not that I was looking for his approval, but I wanted Noah to be aware of my intentions in regard to his sister. He was a hundred percent behind me. Giving who he is and what he means to me, I wanted him to be right by my side––like he always has been. Not to mention, he’s
Keira’s only living relative. Noah has been back for three days. He’s been hiding at Shane’s place. After the accident, he promised Keira he’d be back in LA once the production for the show wrapped up. There was a kink in his plan. Hardcore fans refused to acc ept the end of an era. To appease the hungry audience, the producers extended the show by one more season. Noah told Keira he’d travel a bit before returning to LA. That was also a ruse. Nothing would’ve prevented him from being here tonight. I take Keira’s hand into mine. “I want you to be by my side for the rest of my life.” I love this woman with all my heart. “Without you, Keira, this life is meaningless.” “Oh, God, Rhys,” she says on the heel of a sob. “I’ve had a thing for you for a long time, but I didn’t want to die because I went after the baby sister of a guy who could crush my skull with one hand.” Everyone laughs. “You’re making me sound like a monster, Hartford,” Noah says. “I’m not that scary.” “Stop kidding yourself, buddy.” Beckett scoffs. “You’re the size of a tree and your hands are the size of a grizzly bear’s paw.” Only pretty boy Beckett would have the balls to voice what the rest of us think. Another round of laughs ensues. Noah rubs a hand behind his neck. “Okay, maybe I’m a little intimidating.” I shoot him a pointed look. “Quit butting into my proposal. I’ll be an old man by the time I pop the question.” Keira giggles. “Shit, I’m doing it again,” Noah says. “Sorry, man. I’m more excited than you are.” Not quite as excited, but close. “As I was saying.” I move my attention back to my girl. “A year and a half ago when you landed at LAX, you knocked me off my feet and took my breath away. You were a different woman, but you were still Keira. It didn’t take long for you to become my world. I can’t believe we’ve been going strong for a year and a half. It feels like just yesterday I was taking you out on our first date. And look at us now...” My voice cracks. “Rhys, I’ve tried a million times to figure out how to break free from the incessant stranglehold you’ve had on my heart––” “Did you ever figure it out?” She laughs. “No, I never did. For once, I’m glad I failed. My heart will always belong to you.” “And mine to you,” I say. “My feelings for you consume me.” “Oh, God, Rhys.” “Keira Eve Weatherly, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” “Yes, Rhys, I want to be your wife.” She shrieks before throwing herself into my arms, almost knocking me over. I catch her and straighten up. She cradles my head and bursts into tears, clinging onto me like I just rescued her from drowning. I hold her tight. My friends cheer, clap, stomp and holler. After a moment, I drop her to her feet. She sniffles and wipes away the tears streaming down her face. “It’s about time you sealed the deal, Hartford, or else I was going after her,” Tomas says. I shake my head at him. Anders punches his arm. I swear to God, he could be Collin Dennison’s twin brother. I nod at Noah. He st eps forwards and hands me a small, black and gold box. “I’m a little tall to
be a ring bearer, but here I am carrying the ring,” he says. I open the box and present Keira with the ring. She gasps, her hands flying to her mouth. When she lowers her hands, her jaw hangs open. “Dear God, that is gorgeous,” she says. “Yeah? You like it?” “I freaking love it. It’s perfect. It’s beautiful. It’s stunning. It’s so me. How did you figure it out?” “I have my ways.” Stasia winks at me. I needed a task force to figure out a style that best suited Keira’s taste and aesthetics. While Arianne was helping Oscar figure out which style of ring to buy to pop the question, Michaela and Stasia were instrumental in helping me pin down the perfect ring for my girl. It’s an six-carat pink oval cut diamond ring set in rose gold with pavé diamonds around the band. I take it from the box and slide it onto her trembling finger. More cheers, claps, stomps and hollers from my friends. “Oh. My. God,” Keira says. “We’re getting married. We’re actually getting married.” I tip her head back, forcing her eyes to lock with mine. “This is it, dimples, you’re stuck with me.” “I want to be stuck with you, Rhys,” she says. I take her lips in a tender kiss. My Keira. My forever.