“She’s always been bossy,” I manage, watching as Gouta shifts her attention to the other stall, clearly taking her duties seriously.
Bastian’s hands remain steady on my waist as he studies my face, concern growing in his expression. “What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, reading the tension I’m trying to hide. “You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“Are we for real?” The words come out in a rush. “I mean, is this…? Are we…?” I trail off, suddenly unsure how to voice everything I need to know.
His response comes without hesitation, certainty in his voice making something ease slightly in my chest. “Are we for real?” he repeats after me, like the question surprises him. “I sure hope so.” He hooks his finger in the belt loop of my jeans, pulling me closer as he adds, “Because I can't see myself loving anyone else for the rest of my life.”
I take a deep breath, resting my hands on his chest, hoping that whatever comes out of my mouth next makes sense. “It’ll be hard,” I tell him, forcing words past the tightness in my throat. “When you aren’t around. Especially now that I’ve gotten used to being pulled into dark corners to be ravished.” The attempt at lightness probably fails completely, but I push forward anyway. “But I’ll be fine. You’ll just have to promise to make up for your absence every time you come back.”
His whole body goes still against mine, confusion clear in his eyes, but I keep going. “I do reserve the right to sleep at your place whenever Elvis is being a dick and I want to know whatcologne you use so I can spray it on all the bedsheets and pretend you’re not really gone.”
I bite my lip, hoping he won’t laugh at the next one. “And I want a mold of your cock because…well, you can guess why. So anyway, those are my conditions.”
He laughs. “A mold of my cock, huh?”
I shrug. “It’s only fair. I’m only thirty-three and a guy has needs.”
He kisses me hard, wrapping his arms around my waist until my body is flush with his. I feel his growing cock between us, showing me exactly why having a mold of it is not a requirement but a necessity.
“Baby?” he asks once I’m kiss-drunk and trying to remember my name.
“Hmm…”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
33
BASTIAN
“What do you mean?”Taylen asks, his confusion evident in the way his brow furrows.
I cup his face gently, forcing him to meet my eyes. “Baby, as endearing as that little speech was—down to your request for a mold of my dick, which we can absolutely discuss later—it makes no sense.” My thumbs stroke his cheekbones as I study his expression. “Not unless… Do you think I’m going somewhere?”
His body tenses against mine, answering the question before his mouth does. “I overheard Daisy,” he admits quietly, “at the festival. She was on the phone talking about recording schedules, tours, saying you’d be back in the studio within six months.”
Understanding crashes over me like a wave. “And you assumed I was leaving,” I finish for him, watching as guilt and fear war across his features.
“What else was I supposed to think?” The words carry years of accumulated hurt. “You kept saying you were staying, but then I hear your agent making plans?—”
“Plans that aren’t happening the way you think they are,” I interrupt gently. “Sit with me?”
I guide him to a hay bale, settling beside him while Gouta investigates our legs with her usual nosiness. The new calves shuffle in their stalls, providing a gentle soundtrack to what I need to say.
“There are two things I need to tell you, and I should have mentioned them earlier. That conversation you overheard? Daisy wasn’t talking about us.”
His eyes go wide. “What?”
“She was talking about the local band we saw at Thanksgiving. Remember them?”
He nods.
“Nikko’s been working with them. Helped them put a demo together. Daisy’s representing them now.Them,not Hall of Fame.”
I watch the information sink in, see the exact moment embarrassment starts flooding his features. “I’m an idiot.”
“No,” I say firmly because I need him to understand this. “You had reason to worry based on what you heard. I should have told you what Nikko was doing.” My thumb traces the line of his jaw. “Which brings me to the second thing.”
I take a breath, knowing this next part is important. “We’re leaving the record label. Going independent.”
