“Train?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“I love you.” Imet his eyes. “You don’t have to say—”
“Love you too,Wart.”
I sat upslightly. “You do?”
“Fuck yeah I do.Been fallin’ for you from the first second we sang together.”
“I fell in lovewith your hands. Specifically, this ring on your hand while you played.” Ilifted his ring that never left the chain around my neck. “It’s why I ejectorseated the room.”
He chuckled.“Yeah, your sister mentioned it was you runnin’.”
“This is partlywhy I don’t want to tell anyone,” I admitted. “Once my sisters find out we’re athing, they’re going to bury you in paperwork and make you sign things toprotect my money, then you’ll run—”
“Why the fuck doyou think I’ll run?” he snapped.
“Because theyall do.”
“Okay, you’regonna piss me off if you don’t reel that back in,” he growled.
“What do youmean?”
“If we’re inthis, and I mean, in it, then I’ll sign whatever the fuck you, your sisters, orfuckin’ Puddin’ wants me to sign to protect you and your money, baby. I don’twant it, I don’t need it, and I don’t ever want you to worry that I’ll take itfrom you.”
“Really?”
He sat up,releasing me from our warm and fuzzy bubble. “Yeah, really. Fuck.” He walkedinto the bathroom, and I rushed to follow him.
“Wait, Nash, whyare you getting pissy with me?”
“Baby, I’m notpissy with you.”
“Sure soundslike it,” I countered, crossing my arms.
He sighed,dragging his hands through his hair. “I’m pissed at the assholes and sycophantsyou’ve had to deal with your whole life, Melody. Goddammit, if I could havefive minutes alone with your exes, they’d all be without their spleens.”
My warm and fuzzyfeeling was back. In droves. “Oh.”
He reached out,sliding his hand to my neck, and tugging me toward him. “Come here.”
I wrapped myarms around his waist.
“You will neverhave to worry about my motives, baby,” he promised. “I will sign whatever you wantme to sign, got it?”
“I love you.”
“Love you too,”he said just as my phone buzzed.
“Oh, shit!” Ihissed. “What time is it?” I rushed into the room and saw a text from Brandy.“Crap, I forgot about the oxygen thing.”
Because of theelevation, singers often found it difficult to sing, so every time I performedhere, I booked copious amounts of oxygen treatments, along with keeping oxygentanks backstage should I get into trouble during the show.
“Well, you gotten minutes to get out the door, baby,” Train said. “Better hurry.”
I growled athim, even as we rushed through a quick shower and threw on clothes.
