* * *
The only thingon our agenda today is to get “Every Song” recorded and sent over to Mark. Josh and I spend another hour in bed proving just how well we harmonizeoffstagebefore we finally decide we’d better get to it. “Got to give the people what they want,” he mutters with a sigh, climbing over me to get out of my large bed in this tiny bedroom. “How about I make us a fruit smoothie and we get started?”
I yawn, covering my mouth. “Sure, sounds good.” I roll to my side. “I’ll just be another minute behind you.”
“Take your time.” Josh plants a kiss on my lips. I want nothing more than to pull him back into bed with me, but he’s motivated, and I can’t crush that. A moment later, he’s in the kitchen and I hear the blender. I pick up my phone again, my thumb hovering over TikTok. I can see where these comments provide content creators and artists alike with a dopamine hit. I already want to see if there are more—more about me. I have so many complicated emotions running through me. A couple of months ago, Josh showing up here was the last thing I expected. I never thought I’d get to see him again—to love him again. Now, I’ll be sharing the stage with him after all these years and that’s a dream I’d let go of alongtime ago.
On top of all that, there are still things I haven’t told him. Things he deserves to know. I push them out of my head, day after day, because I’m terrified of wrecking this, of tainting it. This is our second chance. What if I tell him everything and I ruin it all?
“Babe, smoothie!” Josh calls from the kitchen.
I sigh, tossing my phone aside. If I keep looking at the TikTok comments, I’ll get my hopes up. And the higher up they go, the less likely I am to tell Josh the truth.
I throw the covers off me and slip into some pants. Josh and I have taken to sleeping in nothing—or next to nothing. Another reminder of how close we’re becoming.
I head to the bathroom to freshen up and brush my teeth, and by the time I come out, Josh has set our smoothies on the table and is working to set up some recording equipment.
“This will be pretty grassroots,” he says, without looking up from his MacBook. “I’ve got some mics and GarageBand. And some very basic software. But since it’s quiet here, I think we’ll be okay to at least get something down for Mark and the guys at SoundShift.” He clicks something on his screen and then looks up at me. “You okay?”
I smile, this time not bothering to push my hope aside. Josh is excited. He’s excited about going viral, he’s excited about his blossoming career, he’s excited about making music again—maybe he’s even excited about me.
“I’m good,” I say, taking a sip of my smoothie. “So good.”
Josh moves to me then, pulling me close. “The TikTok thing didn’t freak you out?” His voice is soft, lips hovering just over mine.
“Surprisingly, no.” I shake my head. “I think I’m really ready to do this with you.”
“Woo!” Josh cheers, pulling back to look at me, as if checking my face for seriousness. “It’s about damn time!”
We spend the entire morning recording—not because we couldn’t get it right the first time, but because we want it to be perfect. Finally, after about seven tries, Josh hits the play back button and our voices fill my apartment. Crisp and clear, hauntingly beautiful as they meld together in harmony. I blink back tears when the song finishes and when I look at Josh, an unidentifiable emotion is clouding his expression too.
“I think we did it,” he says, reaching for my hand.
“I think so too.” I lick my lips. “It’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful,” Josh murmurs, pulling me close and kissing me deeply. I open for him, our tongues dancing together in the same way our voices did moments ago. Desire pools low in my gut and I move to his lap. He pulls me into him, and I feel his hardness against my heat. Josh’s mouth moves from my lips, down my neck, gently sucking until a soft moan escapes me. He puts his lips to my earlobe, nibbling gently. “Shall we go celebrate?” he teases.
“Definitely,” I breathe.
Josh reaches around me and clicks the mouse of the computer. “Just let me send this.”
I rake my fingers through his hair, dragging my teeth gently along his jaw, planting soft kisses on his neck. His dick moves against me and I moan.
“Done,” he whispers, finding my mouth again. He hoists to a stand, carrying me into what I now think of asourbedroom. I haven’t stopped to think about how fast things between us have moved. It’s only been about two months, but Josh and I have found our rhythm and I don’t want to let it go.
He gently lays me on the edge of the bed, tugging off my shorts to find me bare. “Oh my god, woman.” He lets out a chuckle before reaching up to tug off my loose T-shirt. I’m not wearing a bra either. Josh lets out a guttural moan, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking until I breathe his name. Then he moves to the other and I’m writhing beneath his weight.
He stands, pulling his white T-shirt off and stepping out of his shorts. A sigh falls from my lips as I see his erection pressing against his boxer briefs and I reach to touch him.
“Uh-uh,” he says, dropping to his knees. He spreads my legs, planting kisses up my thighs until I’m trembling. “Jesus, Josh. Give it to me,” I growl.
Josh’s mouth finds my slit then, his tongue sinking into me, sending pleasure to the tips of my toes. He drags his teeth over the bundle of nerves that has the power to unravel me. Before I know what’s happening, Josh reaches into my nightstand drawer. He pauses, looking at the contents for a moment. Panic replaces pleasure when I remember the letter I tucked in there the other day, and I pray it’s not face up.
“What are you doing?” I breathe. “I need you.”
Josh snaps out of it. He rummages through the drawer and seconds later holds up a small silver bullet vibrator—something I haven’t needed to use the past two months. “Looking for this.” A sultry grin creeps across his face and I relax again, panic leaving my body. “Arms up,” Josh commands, standing and pushing my arms over my head. “Grab the headboard, no touching.”
“Oooh, you’re bossy today,” I tease.
