Chapter 93
M y tummy is full of spicy fried chicken sliders, and my heart is full of warmth from spending time with the guys and Bo, who no longer seems to have any reservations whatsoever about openly proclaiming me as his.
“We’ll do this again soon,” Bo tells his bandmates as we step outside the club and onto the sidewalk together. Flashes go off, lighting up the dark. I stagger backward into Bo.
“Paparazzi, fuck!” Bo tucks me behind him as a group of about twenty rushes us. The rest of the guys fill in the spaces, forming a protective circle around me.
“How you wanna play this?” Carson asks Bo.
“Get my girl the fuck out of here,” he says grimly after giving me an assessing glance over his shoulder. “But, sweetheart”—he holds my gaze—“we should pose for a few photos. The right kind. I want the world to know you’re mine. What do you say?”
I don’t like being the center of attention, but this is Bo’s world and being with him, it’s mine too. Knowing he wants to claim me, having everyone here to support and protect me gives me the courage I lack alone.
“I say okay.” Tears blur my vision, then more flashes do as Bo brings me into his side. While he holds me, tons of questions are hurled at us. The guys remain close. With their arms crossed over their chests, they transform from regular guys into arrogant rock stars. Carson even slides on shades.
“Back off!” Stevie shouts when one pap gets too close to me.
“Got no comment.” Levi looks down his nose at a woman who waves a microphone near his face.
“I have something to say.” Bo gently turns me to face him. Focusing on him, the rest of the world fades away. “This incredibly amazing woman is mine, and I’m hers.” Framing my face in his hands, he caresses my jawline with his thumb. This is significant. His gaze locked on mine, I feel his certainty about me, about us. He has my name tattooed on his arm. I have his permanently etched onto my soul. Once these photos are shared, the entire world, not just those closest to us, will know we’re officially together.
“I’m okay,” I mouth as Bo searches my eyes. I’m always safe with him. He’s my escape when life gets to be too much for me. I’d rather confess my secrets to him than a journal. He’s my calm in the center of the storm.
“You guys had enough?” Carson asks loudly, his lead singer voice projecting over the crowd and the whirring of professional cameras.
“Yeah, for sure.” Bo presses a kiss near the corner of my mouth again. I shiver with pleasure, even in front of the media. That’s how potent an almost kiss from Bo is.
“Let’s go then,” Carson decides. Taking the lead, the singer dives through the gathered paparazzi, his bandmates falling into position around me.
As a unit, we hug the building that takes up a city block. When we reach the corner, we turn. Glancing over my shoulder, I’m relieved to see that the paparazzi is gone.
“We gave them what they wanted.” Bo throws his strong arms around me.
“I guess we did.” I wrap my arms around his trim waist and peer up at him. He’s the one I want, a man who accepts me for who I am.
“Next time we should park in the back of the club,” Bo says.
“Agreed.” Carson nods. “Definitely coming back. The food is awesome, and I like the acoustics. Told your uncle Diz that I approve when he came by earlier. He said we can practice on the stage whenever we want.”
“Sounds great.” Bo glances at me. “But this summer, my woman is my priority. We’re doing our duet material first.”
“Understood.” Carson flicks his gaze to me. “If Peace promises to give us a hand fine-tuning our new stuff.”
“I’d love to help,” I say.
“But you’re getting songwriting creds this time around,” Bo insists, giving me a serious look.
“Damn straight,” Carson agrees. A cell ding goes off. Everyone glances at their phones.
“It’s mine.” Carson lifts his head, slowly grinning. “I gotta go.”
“Yeah, we should take off too,” Stevie says. “We’re heading to another club.” He points up the street.
“Wanna come?” Levi asks us.
“No, thanks.” Bo points at my Audi. “Gotta get Peace situated.”
“We’ll see you later.” I click my fob to open the car locks.
“Later.” All three men harmonize, then go their respective ways.
“Let me get that for you.” Bo jogs around the hood and opens my door before I can.
“Thanks.” I fold into the driver’s seat and glance up at him. “Before those photos come out, my family’s going to need an update about us.”
“Agreed.” He looks down at me, his brow creasing. “But I don’t think that will go as well as lunch did with my mom.”
“It’ll be a big step.” I throw that tough truth out there. “Telling my family.”
“One I’m ready for.” He gives me a firm nod. “Even if your dad clocks me again, it’ll be worth it.” He starts to shut my door.
I stop him. “You’re worth it. There’s no question in my mind. You’re the man for me. You get that, right?” I ask. This is important.
“Yeah,” he decides after a long beat. “I think I do, sweetheart. To the rest of the world, I’m an arrogant asshole, but in your eyes, I’m a prince.”
“You are my prince. The rest of the world doesn’t know you like I do.”
“I don’t care what anyone else thinks,” he says softly, but his words are loud and clear. “Only care about you.”
“Right.” My throat tightens with emotion that shines from my eyes. I realize in this defining moment that we’re not at the foot of the mountain anymore. We’ve begun the climb. There’s no map for this journey. We may have to detour around obstacles that get thrown in our path. We might have to pause at a certain altitude to get our bearings before continuing on, but there’s no longer a question. From now on, it’s him and me, hand in hand, our steps in sync, together on the climb.
“I’m certain about us.” I take his hand. “So certain, Bo.”
“About damn fucking time.” He grins, his pleasure lighting up his handsome face. “You make me so happy, Peace Jinkins.”
“You make me happy too, Bo Jackson.” My chest warms as I bask in his light.
“Good.” He sandwiches my hand between both of his and squeezes. “I have plans for us tomorrow. I’m gonna make love to you.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” My nipples harden.
“Not more than me.” His gaze takes on a wicked gleam. “Tonight, let’s get you tucked into your temporary abode.” He releases my hand and gently closes my door. For some reason, he glances up the street the way Carson went as he rounds the hood. I follow his gaze, but there’s no sign of the lead singer anymore. Brow creasing, Bo stops, withdraws his cell, and uses both of his thumbs to type a message.
“Did you just text someone?” I ask as he folds into the passenger seat.
“Carson.” He closes his door. “I need his help with a quick but important errand. But know this for certain.” He leans over the console and presses his warm lips to my cheek. “Tomorrow you are all mine.”