When I finally crawl back up his body, his arms catch me like instinct. He kisses me like he’s starving, like he just found air again.
I smile, breathless, heart racing. I sink deeper into his arms, the heat of his skin seeping into mine like wildfire.
He smiles, slow and wicked. “I want to taste you. Hear you scream my name. Feel you come apart under my hands.” His lips brush mine, slow and searing, before trailing down my neck, nipping softly at the pulse point. I arch into him, breath hitching. His mouth finds my skin, gentle at first, then demanding. His hands roam, exploring, igniting fires wherever they touch. I let my head fall back, exposing my throat, losing myself in the wave of sensation rolling through me.
His voice is a low growl in my ear. “You’re mine. Every gasp, every tremble—it’s all for me.”
I’m trembling now, caught between the raw hunger and the sweet ache of something deeper—trust, surrender, love. My hands slide into his hair, pulling him closer, needing him.
Then, with a softness that takes my breath, he lifts me, sets me down gently on the bed, never breaking eye contact.
“I want to show you,” he says, voice husky. “Let me make you feel how much you mean to me.”
His mouth descends, worshiping every inch, tasting, teasing, coaxing sounds from deep inside me—soft moans, breathless whispers of his name. His hands never stop, mapping me, claiming me, making me his until my voice is raw, and my body is completely spent.
The world narrows until it’s just us—two souls entwined, burning bright in the dark.
When he finally pulls back, I’m trembling, lost in the haze of sensation and emotion.
“I love you, Logan Dale,” I say, voice trembling but sure. “Not for the way you kiss me or hold me, though God… that too. But for all the things you never even knew you were doing. I fell for the way you saw me—when I was lost. For the way youstayed, when I couldn’t find the strength to ask you to. I love you because you loved me before I ever knew how to love myself.”
His smile breaks across his face like dawn, and he cups my cheek, eyes shining. “I’m yours—for now, for always, as long as the stars still shine. Every breath, every part of me, belongs to you.”
I pull him close, our bodies fitting together like they were made for this. His steady heartbeat hums against my ear, a lullaby only I get to hear. The world fades away until there’s nothing left but us—soft breaths, warm skin, and the quiet promise of forever.
“Goodnight, rockstar,” I whisper.
He presses a gentle kiss to my temple. “Goodnight, angel.”
Chapter 20
Logan
The last week passed in a blur—of lips pressed to bare skin, soft moans muffled in the dark, and her body tangled with mine like we’re both afraid to let go. And maybe we are. Maybe holding each other is the only way we know how to breathe right now.
Mac and I haven’t been able to keep our hands—or hearts—off each other. And still… every damn time I look at her, my chest aches in the best way. My pulse kicks like it did the first time I realized I was in love with my best friend. It hasn’t dulled, not once. The fire still burns hot in my veins, like she's stoking it with every glance, every kiss, every breath.
We’ve scoured every place we could think of with the guys, searching for Lola, but she’s up and vanished like a gust in the wind. Previously it was like I couldn’t turn a corner without bumping into her.
Mac’s been spending more time in Braden’s room. Considering she couldn’t look at the door it was marked difference. I hope it was not in fear of her coming back to find more of him missing. Like Lola is a monster creeping in to steal sentimental items of his… of her brother.
She gave the boys his music books—pages of lyrics and notes Braden never shared, like he was saving them for something special. It damn near wrecked me, seeing her hand them over like she was passing a piece of her heart into our palms just to keep it safe.
His acoustic’s already in the van with the rest of our gear. That was one thing she didn’t have to ask about. That guitar’s not going anywhere without me. I promised her it’d come back in one piece.
This morning, she walks down the stairs wearing his old hoodie—drowned in it, really—her bare legs peeking out beneath the hem, hair still damp from her shower, cheeks a little pink from the warmth of the steam. God help me.
I’m sitting on the counter, nursing a coffee I forgot to drink, boots half-laced, watching her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters.
The kitchen’s alive with the usual noise—Chace and Sam arguing over snacks, Trey complaining about how early it is. Banter flying left and right like we aren’t all secretly wired with nerves and excitement about Reverb In The Pines. This weekend’s more than just a festival. It’s the first time we have performed live in months.
But the second Mac steps into the room, time slows. My hand automatically reaches for her, fingers brushing her hip as shepasses. I trail the touch up under the hoodie, palm splayed against her warm skin. She gasps softly, shooting me a look over her shoulder. That look—the one that says I see you. I want you. Later.
I lean in, brushing my lips just behind her ear. “You’re not wearing any panties, are you?” I whisper low enough only she can hear. Her breath catches, and she shakes her head slightly. My grip tightens just enough to make her squirm.
Trey groans from the fridge. “Can we not have a live porno before breakfast? Damn.”
Mac rolls her eyes, cheeks flushed, and slips away from my grip with a smirk that tells me I’ll pay for that later—in the best way.
