21. Twenty-One
Twenty-One
Nate
“We’re going to be late,” Lacey says for the third time, but she’s not exactly helping our timing by running her fingers through my hair like that.
She looks sleepy, her hair still tousled, eyes half closed, but there’s something else—something that has her blushing every time I catch her eye.
I smirk, gripping the wheel a little tighter. I know exactly why.
Last night. That damn wench outfit.
I didn’t think she’d do it.
But after I won our bet at the bowling alley, I’d teased her later, throwing out an offhanded, “You know, if you really wanted to make it up to me, you’d wear something ridiculous. Maybe a saucy pirate wench outfit or something.”
I meant it as a joke. But then she’d actually done it.
One minute, I was cleaning up in the kitchen, and the next, Lacey was standing in the doorway wearing a corset-style top that did all kinds of sinful things to her figure, a flowy, dangerously short skirt, and thigh-high fishnet stockings that made my brain short-circuit.
“Your winnings, Captain.”
I nearly lost my mind.
“Besides, whose fault is it that we’re running behind? I wasn’t the one who decided to play dress-up last night.”
Her cheeks flush that delicious shade of pink I’ve come to love. “I thought you liked my interpretation of your bowling victory prize.”
“Oh, I definitely appreciated your... creative addition to our evening.” I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. “Especially that little move with the—“
“Nate!” She swats my arm, but she’s laughing. “Eyes on the road.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I grin, remembering how commanding she’d been in that costume. “Or should I say, ‘Yes, my saucy wench’?”
I glance over at her, amused. “Did you sleep well?”
Her fingers tighten around the coffee cup in her lap. “Mm-hmm.”
I grin wickedly. “Liar.”
She exhales sharply, cheeks pink. “I did sleep well. Eventually.”
I hum in agreement, dragging my knuckles lazily along the curve of her thigh. “You looked good last night, Lace.” My voice drops just enough to make her squirm. “Really good.”
She swats at my hand. “You cannot bring that up in the car.”
I chuckle, taking full satisfaction in the way she crosses her legs and presses her lips together like she isn’t still thinking about it.
I lean over slightly, dropping my voice lower. “I should’ve made you walk the plank.”
She chokes on her sip of coffee.
Her blush deepens. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into that.”
“As I recall, it was entirely your idea. I was perfectly content with our afternoon at Family First.”
“Maybe I wanted to give you both kinds of rewards.” She slides her hand onto my thigh. “The meaningful and the memorable.”
I catch my breath. “You’re playing with fire, Lace.”
“Maybe I like playing with fire.” Her voice is innocent, but her touch is anything but.
“Two more minutes,” I warn her, taking the airport exit. “Then you’re on that plane, and I have to wait five whole days to see you again.”
She sighs, withdrawing her hand. “The launch party feels so far away.”
“It’ll be worth the wait.” I pull into short-term parking, probably too fast. “Everything’s ready—the album, the party, even your outfit.”
I help her with her bag, then pull her close. “You can wear whatever the company wants. I’ll still know what’s underneath.”
“Nate!” But she’s pressing closer, tilting her face up to mine.
“We really are going to be late,” I murmur against her lips.
“Worth it.”
The kiss starts soft but quickly deepens. I back her against the car, one hand tangling in her hair while the other grips her hip. She makes that little sound in the back of her throat that drives me crazy, and I forget we’re in public until a camera flash goes off nearby.
Lacey jumps, but I hold her close for one more moment, finishing the kiss properly. When I pull back, her lips are swollen, and her eyes are dazed.
“That wasn’t very company-like,” she manages.
“Good.” I grab her bag with one hand and her hand with the other. “Let them see what they want to see.”
We make it to security with minutes to spare. Another kiss, shorter but no less intense, and she’s heading through the checkpoint.
“Five days,” I call after her.
She turns, walking backward. “I’ll be counting.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
I watch until she disappears around the corner, aware of the photographer still lurking nearby. Let him take his shots. Let the whole world see.
Because what Lacey and I have—it’s not just for show anymore. It hasn’t been for a while.
Walking back to my car, there’s a lightness in my step I can’t contain. Five days. Just five days until I see her again, until I can hold her, kiss her, and show her exactly what she means to me.
My phone buzzes with a text. It’s from Lacey: ‘Missing you already. Even if you did make me late.’
I type back: ‘Pretty sure you made yourself late when you decided to model that costume one more time this morning.’
Three dots appear, then: ‘TOTALLY worth it.’
I grin, starting the car. Five days suddenly feels a long way away.
But she’s right. It was definitely worth it.
I check my watch for the third time in the last five minutes.
Lacey is late. But this time, it’s not her fault. Her flight was delayed again, and by the time she landed, I barely had time to get her home in time to get dressed. Thank God Rachel had people ready to assist her.
The party starts in less than an hour, and I check the time once more, adjusting the cuffs of my black dress shirt. The rest of the band is already at the venue, doing sound checks and press, but I insisted on picking Lacey up myself. She had back-to-back flights.
She’s probably exhausted.
And honestly? She looks like she is. There’s a subtle tiredness in her posture, a weight in her movements that wasn’t there before. The constant back-and-forth travel is starting to take its toll, but when I question her about it, she just gives me that stubborn little shrug like it’s no big deal.
I know better. But for now, I let it go.
Because when I finally get a good look at her?
I forget every single thought in my head.
She comes down the steps, the overhead lights bouncing off her jet-black dress, and I swear I lose my breath.
“I’m so sorry, I was late,” she starts, but I silence her with a kiss.
“You’re here now.” I pull back to look at her again, and my breath catches. The black dress is a masterpiece of subtle seduction—technically modest enough for her company image with its high neckline, but the way it clings to every curve tells a different story. It’s sleek, form-fitting, dipping scandalously low in the back. The skirt falls just above her knees, with a slit that hints at more, the fabric clinging to her curves in a way that makes my pulse rise.
And her legs—damn. She’s wearing stiletto heels that make her legs look endless. Her high heels are glittering silver, the kind of shoes that are meant to be admired, but all I can think about is how much I want them tangled in my sheets.
But it’s her face that stops my heart. Smokey eye makeup makes her dark eyes look even more mysterious, more alluring. Bedroom eyes, I think, fighting the urge to kiss her again. Her hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, and there’s a slight flush to her cheeks from rushing.
“You look...” I shake my head, words failing me.
She smooths her hands down the dress. “Rachel approved it. Though I’m not sure she saw the final makeup look.”
“Remind me to thank your makeup artist.” My hands find her waist. “And to kill them for making you look this irresistible when we have to be in public all night.”
She laughs, but I notice the slight shadows under her carefully applied makeup. “Are you okay? Those long flights are getting brutal.”
“I’m fine.” She waves it off again, but I catch the way she stifles a yawn. “Just need some coffee.”
I make a mental note to talk to Rachel about the schedule. This constant back-and-forth can’t be easy for her.
The limo is waiting outside. Lacey’s eyes widen as we slide in. “Wow.”
Black, sleek, and stretched long enough to look absurd. The kind of luxury vehicle meant to scream money, status, and power.
It would normally be a bit too flashy and excessive, but tonight isn’t just any night. Tonight is about the band. About our music. About everything we’ve built.
And, apparently, about me trying very hard to keep my hands off Lacey Monroe.
We slide into the back, and the moment the doors shut, every noise fades away, leaving only dim lighting and the faint scent of leather.
“Only the best for album launch night.” I pour her a glass of champagne. “The venue’s even more impressive.”
The interior lighting of the vehicle catches the sparkles in her dress, making her shimmer. I’ve never wanted her more, and from the way she is looking at me, I’m not alone in that feeling.
Lacey crosses her legs, the slit in her dress sliding higher.
I swallow hard. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
I shift in my seat, resting an elbow on the armrest, fingers idly running over my lower lip as I study her. “You had to look this enticing, huh?”
She tilts her head, playing innocent. “I had to match your level of rockstar deliciousness.”
I arch a brow. “Deliciousness?”
She gestures to me. “I mean, look at you.”
I smirk, leaning back so she can. I’ll admit—I look damn good tonight.
Black dress shirt, tailored vest. My usual scruff, a sleek watch, and polished dress shoes that I wouldn’t normally wear but fit the occasion.
I could have worn a tie—but I didn’t.
Lacey’s eyes flick down my frame, then back up, lingering on my mouth before meeting my gaze again.
“Damn, but you look fine, Nate,” she says, running a hand down my chest. The outfit is worth every penny just for that look in her eyes.
“Behave,” I warn her, catching her hand. “We have cameras to face.”
“You started it with that vest.” Her fingers toy with one of the buttons. “And these pants that fit just...” She bites her lip.
I groan. “You’re killing me, Lace.”
The limo pulls up to the venue, and I can already hear the crowd. Cameras flash through the tinted windows.
“Ready?” I ask, straightening my vest.
She takes a deep breath, then gives me that smile that never fails to knock me sideways. “With you? Absolutely.”
We step out into a storm of camera flashes. The red carpet stretches ahead, lined with reporters and fans. Lacey’s hand finds mine, squeezing once.
Inside, the venue is transformed. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over everything. The stage where we’ll perform later is set up at one end, while bars and lounge areas fill the rest of the space. Already, the room is filling with industry executives, press, and VIP fans.
I spot the band near the stage. Sam’s in a charcoal suit, his arm around Emily, who’s glowing in deep blue. Luke and Lila are matching in burgundy. Meanwhile, Kendrick shines in shimmery gold, and Cass has chosen classic black like me. Little Presley is with Emily’s parents tonight, but Cassidy is here, looking pretty and youthful in a pink dress. Vince is alone, but I’m sure not for long.
“There you are!” Emily hurries over, hugging Lacey. “That dress is amazing!”
“This whole place is unbelievable,” Lacey says, looking around in awe.
I keep my hand on the small of her back as we make our way through the crowd. Every head turns to watch us pass. I can’t blame them—Lacey looks like something out of a dream.
“Five minutes.” Rachel appears, clipboard in hand. “Per Emily, after the performance, there will be band photos and then a couple of photos and a few brief interviews.”
I lean down to whisper in Lacey’s ear, “After that, you’re all mine.”
She shivers slightly, turning those bedroom eyes on me. “Promise?”
“Bet on it,” I grin.
She groans, her face flushing. “No more bets with you, Stone.”
The night stretches ahead of us, full of obligations and expectations. But right now, with Lacey by my side, looking irresistible, in sparkles, I can’t wait to play our new songs for the world—because every single one of them reminds me of her.