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I touch his face, the raspy stubble of his jaw. “You can be so nice, you just hide it so well.”
“Yeah, tell that to the client I fired yesterday. I’m sure he’d disagree.”
I frown. “Why’d you do that?”
He sighs, rolling onto his back and folding his arm behind his head. “Because I’ve been doing this a long time, and I’m all out of patience with assholes. It doesn’t cost a damn thing to act right.”
I laugh, thinking about that, and how I kinda love it when he’s stern. Snuggling into his side, I rest my palm on his naked chest, stroking the hair.
“You surprised me,” I whisper.
“Hmm? How’s that?”
“You’re a good man.” I don’t know how else to say it.
He’s quiet for a long time. Absently, he runs his touch down my side and back up. With him, I’m at peace. I’m home, even if I don’t know what that looks like.
“So how do you like MET?” he asks finally.
“I like them a lot.”
“Good enough to sign a contract?”
Pushing myself upright, I sit with my chin tucked on my bent knees. “Do you think I should?”
“If Jenna and Rita both think you have it, you probably do. If you have it and want to pursue it, MET’s a good choice.”
“I know, but…what about the other stuff we talked about? You said it was a hard industry for a lot of people. I saw what it did to Coen.”
He turns his head to the side, looking at me with unreadable eyes.
“I’m not your agent, but if you’ll have me, I’ve got your back,” he says. “I’ll walk with you and keep you safe.”
My chest aches, in the best way. Leaning in, I kiss him slowly and only pull back to rest my cheek on his bare chest. He strokes my hair. We stay like this for a long time, until the sun is halfway across the sky. I’m sleepy, worn out from everything. Not just him, but the entire week. The constant up-and-down of everything being new. The anxiety of not knowing what this means for my future and if it’ll change it for the better or for the worse.
“Rita wants me to do a small tour after I release an album,” I say. “Not mine, but as an opener.”
“I think that’d be a good way to get your feet wet.”
“I know you’re busy,” I say, not holding my breath, “but if you want to go with me, maybe, that would be nice.”
His grip tightens. “I’ll make it work.”
“Really?” I lift my head.
He touches my cheek. “Yeah, baby. Whatever makes you smile.”
God, he can be so sweet. It’s hard to believe he’s the same man I hooked up with a year ago, except he still fucks as good. I run my fingers through his hair, and the strangest feeling washes over me, starting in my chest and ringing through my mind. We’re at the start of something important. Maybe something people will talk about for a while.
The start of a really damn good story, I can feel it.
“They’re gonna fucking love you,” he says.
“Not everyone. I see the snarky comments.”
“Yeah, well, they can go to hell. Having people hate you for no goddamn reason is part of the business. You’ll get used to it, and you’ll have me here.”
We fall quiet, thinking.
