“No . . . no! I was joking!” He writhed beneath her, desperate for more.
She grinned wickedly, buttoned up her onesie, and reached for the remote.
“As if, Cary. The Jets are playing.”
CHAPTER 34
CARY
What the hell was that with Tommy? He’d practically accosted his girlfriend right there at the table while Sebastien sat sipping champagne like some clueless aristocrat. He should’ve stepped in. Every instinct had screamed at him to do something—say something—but she’d made it clear: she didn’t want him fighting her battles. And like a damn fool, he’d listened.
But enough was enough. She needed to leave SDM.
Maybe it was time for a change. Toronto was close to Winnipeg—central enough for him to travel and make it work. He’d be near his family. She’d be closer to the Robertsons. It made sense.
And she’d invited his parents here. That had floored him. She was the most thoughtful woman he’d ever known. But “girlfriend”? That word didn’t even come close. He didn’t just want her. He needed her. She already talked to his mother more than he did.
A baby. God, he could hardly wait. Maybe he didn’t have to. The thought of her carrying his child sent a surge through him, hot andelectric, tightening every nerve in his body. Was that twisted? No. It was instinct. Primal. Undeniable.
He brushed her hair from her neck and pulled her closer, hands gliding over her warm, bare skin. To his surprise, she stirred—reached back for him—guiding him in. He groaned, pressing into her, their bodies falling into rhythm again, slow and quiet, until sleep finally took them.
CHAPTER 35
TYLER
At the awards that evening, Cary walked the red carpet in a suit by a local designer. He always backed Canadian talent—fashion, art, music, didn’t matter. One photo of him on social media could launch someone’s career into the stratosphere. People everywhere wanted to be like him, and honestly, Tyler couldn’t blame them.
Once inside the arena, Tyler ushered Cary’s parents to their seats in the music industry section of the venue, close enough to the stage but not on the floor where the fans were standing.
“Sebastien will sit here, then Cary,” Tyler told the Kingstons. “And you can sit on the other side of him.”
His mother smiled. “Why don’t you sit beside Cary, dear? We’ll just be one seat over.”
“That’s okay, Mrs. Kingston,” she said, not wanting to make a fuss.
“It’s Pamela.” She shook her head sternly. “And I won’t hear of it.”
Moments later, Cary and Sebastien climbed the steps. Her boss trailed behind the rock star, huffing, sweating, and struggling to keep up.
Tyler gave Cary a crooked smile and he winked, raising his eyebrows. He sat beside her while a gust of cologne swirled up her nose, playing the synthesizer part from Animotion’s “Obsession.”
The lights dimmed and she closed her eyes, steadying herself with a breath. Yestown was up first—and the show was televised. If they screwed it up, it’d live on forever.
“I’m nervous,” she whispered as the band walked across the stage.
“I can help with that,” Cary murmured, sliding his hand between their seats, fingers inching up her thigh.
She crossed her legs, tugging her A-line skirt over her knees and draping her coat across their laps like a blanket.
“Your parents are right there,” she hissed.
He shrugged, completely unfazed, and kept teasing her until the set ended and she was ready to burst.
Then, eyes still fixed on the stage, he slowly withdrew his hand. “Still nervous?”
She couldn’t speak. She just shook her head.
After Tyler gained composure she turned to Pamela. “Cary wrote that song.”
