“Three,” she says, looking proud. “But you promised me four.”
I bark out a laugh. “I can do better,” I say.
She smiles, impudent. “Prove it.”
CHAPTER 29
Daisy
(TEN YEARS AGO)
Dear Diary,
The day after my birthday, all I could think of was that Ryder strode away from me as I sat, hopeful, waiting, in his bed. I was too embarrassed to face him, so I walked the path to the beach, sat in the sand, and cried. The place was filled with happy families, couples holding hands, and a big group of friends laughing. Everyone had someone.
I’ve had plenty of guys interested, but maybe because of my background, none ever considered me girlfriend material. I was the one they wanted to fool around with in a dark room. Never the girl they walked hand in hand with on a beach.
I’d hoped I’d finally found someone for me. But I guess I was wrong.
(NOW)
“I’ll never doubt you again,” I say later, staring at the ceiling and coming down from yet another orgasm.
He slants me a wry look. “Remember that,” he says with a kiss. He gets up and heads to the bathroom. In appreciation, I watch him strut away, his ass bare. A few minutes later, he returns with a warm, wet washcloth.
I blush when he cleans me, peppering soft kisses on my most intimate areas in between swipes of the cloth.
“No more.” I laugh. “I’m done. Spent. Out of orgasms.”
“I’m just helping out.”
When he’s done, our eyes meet and our smiles die. I can’t read his expression.
My ridiculous brain, now free from mind-bending pleasure, uses this peaceful moment to reassert itself and get insecure.
“What—um—where…”
I don’t know how to ask, but I really want to know where I’m expected to sleep. What’s the etiquette here? Emotion and hormones swept us both away. Has anything really changed? Should I be adjourning to one of the other guest rooms since I obviously can’t go back to the pool house? Andshit,the pool house was trashed. All my personal things were in there. Thankfully, I’d had the presence of mind to grab my bag with my phone, wallet, and laptop. But my clothes. My shoes! Are they okay? I’m spiraling.
But Ryder lies back down and pulls me to him, settling my head on his chest. “Stay right here,” he rumbles. And as if he can read my mind, he adds, “We’ll go through the pool house in the morning when we know the rest of the roof isn’t going to collapsecompletely. Anything you’ve lost, I’ll replace. I’ll make sure it’s okay, I promise.”
And I’m calm again. It’s scary how nice it feels to have someone hold you and tell you everything will be all right. Especially when they want you to sleep in their muscular arms.
“Yes, sir,” I breathe. “Boss man.”
“Good,” he grunts.
We lie in silence, listening to the sound of the lessening rain.
“The storm’s getting quieter,” I say. As tired as I am, as peaceful as it is, I’m uncomfortable with the silence. There are too many thoughts and too many questions in the quiet night.
“I used to love listening to the storms here as a boy. There was something about the world raging on the outside, but being warm and safe in this house.”
I’m silent for long minutes. “It’s weird imagining you being a boy here. Because you were so famous when you were thirteen. You were just a boy, then too. What was that like? Being so young and your life changing so drastically.”
I feel the press of his lips to the top of my head, making emotion twist in my gut.
“When my band won the reality show,” he says, “it was like a rocket ship from the start. We fast-tracked an album and started touring. We became famous overnight. We were the number one band in the world. It was my dream come true.”
