Chapter 92
“ W ell, lunch certainly was something,” Bo says when we return to my Audi that I parked at the curb outside his mom’s building.
“I like Avery,” I declare without reservation.
“Me too, mostly because of how much she reminds me of you.” His expression turns contemplative as he gazes out the front windshield for a long moment before saying, “I get now why there’s always been this noticeable tension between Avery and my mom.”
“Your mom still loves your dad.”
“Yeah,” he agrees.
“So how does Avery remind you of me?” I ask, and he refocuses on me.
“If she believes strongly in something, she tells you flat out, no reservation.”
“Maybe I do that some of the time.” I grip the steering wheel tighter. “But not often enough because of my shyness.” My gaze drifts to the front windshield, to the beautiful view of the waterfront and majestic mountains beyond it, but my mind is on my shortcomings instead.
“You’ve never really been timid or shy with me.” He touches my shoulder. “Why?”
“Because I trust you.” I look at him.
“Trust what about me?” He leans over the console, his gaze holding mine.
“I trust that you truly care about me.” I keep my eyes on his, holding nothing back. “I know you have my back. That you believe in me. That you want the best for me.”
“That’s absolutely correct, baby.” His gaze sharpens. “And I know down to my soul that you care about me, too, that you have my back. Time and time again, you’ve proven you believe in me. You’re my best friend.”
“And you’re mine.” I wrinkle my nose. “We only got tripped up when we brought sex into it.”
“Sex is staying. We’re taking that next step together that Avery talked about. And, baby”—his voice lowers to a sexy rumble—“just so you know, you’re the best I’ve ever had or ever will have. There’s never going to be anyone else for me. You get that, right?”
“I think so.”
“Let me show you something.” He peels back the sleeve on his tee, revealing a tattoo. It’s my name in a dramatic script with arrows pointing to words that describe me. Unique. Beautiful. Inspiring. Chosen. Loved. Those words build up rather than tear down. They’re the opposite of the hurtful ones from my childhood and the online comments. “Do you get it now?” he asks again. “The way I see you?”
“I do,” I say softly, my lips curving and my spirit soaring.
“Good.” With his striking eyes twinkling more brilliantly than diamonds, he leans closer and presses his lips to my skin just a whisper away from my mouth. “Love you.”
“Bo.” My heart flutters. “I?—”
“The guys want to see you,” he cuts me off before I can beg him to kiss me.
“Why?” I wonder out loud.
“They like you.” He rolls his eyes at my question as if his answer is a given, but until Bo, I didn’t have meaningful friendships outside my family. “They’re a bunch of assholes like me, but they care about you, and they missed you.”
“I missed them.” I give the logistics some consideration. “Can they come by my apartment?” I haven’t been there yet. But it’s furnished, and I assume it’s clean enough for company.
“They want us to meet them for a drink at The Mine. It’s my uncle Dizzy’s new club.” He frowns. “I really wish you told Melinda you don’t need an apartment. I want us to get a place together.”
“I want that too,” I admit. “But I need my own place for now. I can’t sleep in a bed with you and not have sex with you. I don’t have that much willpower.”
“Is that all it takes for you to give in?” he asks. “A bed?”
“Bo.” I sigh longingly. “I’m trying to be wise, careful, and responsible for us.”
“I understand.” His gaze narrows. “But I don’t think those words have ever been used to describe love.”
“You’re probably right.”
“We’re right.” He reshapes my words like he has reshaped me. “You and me.”
I nod. “I agree.” We’re at the base of that relational mountain, surveying the majestic peak hand in hand.
“You get tonight on your own to get on the same page as me. Then you’re in my bed. Maybe we’ll sleep a little. But mostly.” His sexy lips curl. “You’re going to have lots of sex with your irresistible boyfriend.”
Bo
Inside The Mine that was once an old warehouse with brick walls and exposed ducting overhead, I cross my arms over my chest. I’m biding my time as the guys fawn over Peace. She’s smiling, and that’s the only reason I’ve allowed all the touching and hugging.
“Enough.” I grasp her arm and bring her back where she belongs—in my arms and mine alone. “Let’s do your drink thing,” I grumble at my friends, wanting to get this social function completed so I can have my woman to myself.
“Don’t be an asshole.” Carson hits me with his glacial glare.
Stevie shakes his head at me. “You can’t keep her in your bed twenty-four hours a day, man.”
“A guy has to have a dream,” I deadpan.
“Yeah, I understand you have couple goals, theoretically.” Levi pries my woman away from me. “But don’t be a Peace-hog. Sit by me.” He leads her to a high-backed purple booth that forms a semicircle around a round table.
“Okay.” Peace climbs into the booth. Levi sits beside her. I rush around to the other side, shimming across the leather bench so I’m next to Peace too.
“What’s your problem?” I ask Carson when I catch him snickering at me.
“You got it bad, Jacks.” He sits beside me.
“You do too,” Stevie tells our lead singer, then shoves his way onto the bench by his brother.
“How so?” Carson asks.
“You’ve had your mind on Harmony ever since she agreed to see you tonight.”
“Harmony’s coming to Vancouver?” Peace asks Carson.
“No, I’m driving down to Seattle after this.”
“Oh, I see.” Peace nods. “Glad you two are still friends.”
“Yeah, me too.” Not looking all that happy, Carson rakes a hand through his black hair.
Stevie makes a lewd gesture for Carson’s benefit that fortunately Peace misses because she has a paper table tent in her hands that I assume has the list of happy hour specials.
“We’re glad you and Bo are together officially.” Levi takes Peace’s hand, her free one. I have the other secured.
“And we’re really sorry about what happened with those photos.” Stevie leans an elbow on the table to see past his brother. “Did they find out yet who turned them over to the media?” he asks her.
“No,” Peace replies. “Whoever’s responsible hid their trail well.” Her shoulders drop.
I have my suspicion of who the culprit is, but no evidence to prove it. If it was Lilah or someone else on the tour, the truth will come out eventually. But eventually isn’t today. Today is about me and Peace.
“But we’re moving past that, and on to better things.” I raise my hand, signaling a waitress. The sooner we do the drinks, the sooner I can have Peace all to myself. We’re moving forward, and we’re doing it soon.