Page 210 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

Because she made me want things again. Music. Feeling. Connection. Life. Things I buried with Josiah.

I grip the railing harder instead of saying any of that out loud. “You have any idea how dangerous you are?”

Her brows pull together faintly. “Me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“No,” I say. “What’s ridiculous is the fact that I can’t seem to go more than ten goddamn minutes without thinking about you.”

The atmosphere changes between us.

Her lips part. I keep going anyway because I’ve clearly already destroyed my own self-control today.

“You get under my skin in ways I don’t know how to explain,” I admit roughly. “I’ve spent years making sure nothing touches me deeply enough to matter.”

“Xander—”

“No.” I shake my head once. “You should hear this.”

Because I don’t say these things. I don’t hand people weapons capable of hurting me. But standing here with her, I’m exhausted from holding everything back all the time.

“I’ve had women around me constantly for most of my adult life,” I continue. “Models, actresses, fans. People who wanted the version of me they saw onstage.”

My gaze drags over her face.

“But you…” My voice lowers. “You want me to keep coming back, no matter what. It’s different with you,” I say. “It’s always been different.”

“How different?”

I stare at her. At this woman who walked into my life carrying coffee stains and sarcasm and somehow dismantled every wall I built without even trying.

The truth rises before I can stop it. “I’ve never felt this close to anyone before.”

Then her hand lifts. Touches my chest. Right over my heartbeat.

“You scare me, too,” she whispers.

My entire body tightens. “Yeah?”

She nods once. “Because I think…” She swallows. “I think I’m falling for you. All of you.”

Pain cracks open inside my chest. I lower my forehead briefly against hers before I can stop myself.

I haven’t wanted to belong to anyone in years. But somehow, she makes me want impossible things.

My hand slides along her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek. “You already have me.”

Her breath catches again.

Then, she kisses me.

I kiss her back, one hand gripping her waist and pulling her flush against me while the other tangles into her hair.

My hands find her jaw and her hip, thumb sliding under the hem of the hoodie, skin meeting skin. She feels hot and electric under my palms, alive in a way that sends a spike of need straight to my fucking center.

Her pulse flutters against my lips as I drag my mouth down her throat, tongue tracing the edge of her collarbone exposed by the drooping neckline. She arches into my grip, making a throaty sound I want to hear on repeat, and I catch her wrists and pin her arms above her head.