Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
When my album came out and went big, fast, he’d been all over online, making shit up, saying how I’d tried to sleep with him and all this other stuff. My mom had called me, crying. The response from my fan base hadn’t been good. Yeah, there was some support, but the overall consensus was they didn’t want me to be into men, which was when Steve told me I couldn’t be into men publicly. Hell, he didn’t want me to be at all, but I wasn’t giving up Law.
“And your family…” I added.
Law was sure his parents would have a problem with it. They had all these expectations of him, but in a different way. To be the perfect, wealthy, Southern, oldest son and expand Grant’s to new locations and grow his family’s empire.
“I know. I hate that I’m such a fucking coward. I’ve never let myself be weak like this in my life.”
“You’re not a coward.” I turned, lay on my stomach, and rubbed his chest. Because as scared as he was, I thought maybe Law would go through with it if I would. He’d always been braver than me. “You can, um…be with other people, if that helps. I don’t like it, but I’d deal with it…you know, since we don’t see each other that—”
“Fuck that!” Law jerked away from me and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s not about sex, Remy. It’s about us.”
The weight on my shoulders got heavier, almost broke me. God, I wanted him, wanted to make him happy, didn’t want to lose him, but I needed music too. “I know.” I wrapped my arms and legs around him from behind and buried my face in his hair. “It would have killed me if you’d said yes.”
“I can’t believe you’d tell me I could do that. I would lose my fucking mind if anyone else touched you.”
I would lose my mind if anyone touched him too.
“I don’t want to fight,” he said after a few minutes. We lay down together again, looking at each other. He smiled, but it wasn’t his usual smile. It was a sad one. “It’s crazy sometimes…when I look at where we are. Who knew that moment when I saw a boy come onstage with his T-shirt on inside out, that it would change the course of my life?”
“Do you regret it?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer. It was hard, and I knew it would only get harder.
“No,” Law replied, then rolled me over and lay on top of me. He nuzzled and kissed my neck. “You’re fucking hot…and that ass. Christ, how could I regret that?”
I wasn’t hot, but I felt it with him.
Then we were laughing and kissing, the world righting itself again.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lawson
Remington was here. In Havenwood. On my goddamned street, in that stupid piece-of-shit house I wanted, on the great piece of land I’d hoped to combine with my own.
With his stupid, shy, sweet smile and his messy hair. With that damn voice that settled in my chest…and my cock. He was a fucking millionaire, and he’d bought an old-ass house and had driven an old car that had broken down, according to Chase. He’d been wearing old, threadbare jeans, slung low on his slender hips, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were a pair he’d had from when we were together. That was Remy.
After six fucking years.
In my fucking hometown.
I’d wanted to punch him.
I’d wanted to fuck him.
I hated him because he’d hurt me. No one had ever had the power to do that before him, and they sure as shit didn’t after him.
I believed him when he said he hadn’t known I lived on the same street. The shock had been evident on his face, but that didn’t change the fact that he was there in the first place.
I wondered how his girlfriend, Brittany, felt about that. They’d been on again, off again over the years. I knew that shit because it was all over the fucking Internet all the damn time.
They must have been off at the moment, and damned if I didn’t question how all that worked. If he faked it, or if maybe he realized he was bi, when really, it shouldn’t fucking matter. None of it. We’d made our choices. We’d walked away. Well, I had, and Remy hadn’t done a damn thing to stop me.
Before
We were in a hotel…we were always in a hotel. Remy was hardly ever around. He was touring or writing or working with his label. It was incredible when I looked at where his career had gone, that his dreams had come true. No one deserved it more than he did. But it was killing me. This whole fucking thing was slowly eating away at my insides and had been for five fucking years now.