Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
"You're sleeping in my bed with me tonight, Éire," I growl against her skin, rolling her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. "As soon as the concert ends, I'm coming to find you and claim what belongs to me."
She stumbles over the lyrics.
"I'm giving you what's yours too." I press my lips to her ear, telling her the one thing I've never told anyone. My big secret. "My virginity."
She gasps, spinning to face me. "Crue…what?"
"You heard me."
"But—"
"The tabloids said a lot of shit about us back then that wasn't true, sweet girl. I'm all yours." My lips close around the shell of her ear. "You'll be my only."
"There you are," Mason says, stomping onto the stage.
Ireland jumps a foot in the air at the sound of his voice, her face somehow turning white as a sheet and bright red at the same time.
"I've looked all over this bloody arena for… Oh." Mason pauses a few steps away, glancing between Ireland and me. "Shit. Sorry. I didn't know she was here."
"She was living out her rockstar fantasies," I say, reluctantly releasing her.
His lips twitch with amusement as she scurries several steps away. "Is she any good? Is she coming for your job?"
"She has it in the bag." I place myself between the two of them, annoyed because he's smiling at her. Why the fuck is everyone smiling at her today? "Stop smiling at her."
His smile grows.
Ireland elbows me. "Don't be rude, Crue. And stop lying to him. I'll sink the band inside of a week."
"Promise?" Mason asks, earning a smile from Ireland.
"Great. Now you're smiling at him," I growl, narrowing my eyes on her.
"Yep. It's my mouth; I can smile if I want."
I'm not winning this war.
"You need something, brother?" I ask, giving up before she kicks my ass.
"Yeah. Do you have a minute? I've got something new I want you to hear."
I don't ask if Ireland can come. Mason doesn't let anyone hear what he's working on until it's finished. He's a perfectionist.
Instead, I glance at her, reluctant to let her out of my sight with so many fucking men around here.
"Go," she says. "I'll be fine."
"I'll call Shelby."
"Crue, I'll be fine! I'll just hang out until you're done," she says, looking far too innocent. Which means by the time I get back, she'll have a whole fucking army of men around her. Fuck that.
"I'm calling Shelby."
She rolls her eyes as I pull my phone out of my pocket, but she doesn't argue with me.
The rest of the day is a study in frustration. By the time Mason is finished with me, our manager shows up to go over some numbers. Apparently, our new album is performing insanely well on streaming platforms. Shelby and Ireland pop in with lunch for us halfway through our meeting with him.
I barely have time to even say hello to my perfect wife before she and Shelby vanish out the door again. I don't hide the fact that we're married. We hired our manager this time, not the record label. He works for us. He's shocked by the news but takes it in stride. What else is he going to do? It's not like he has a say in what the fuck I do.
We run straight to sound check after our meeting.
"There's an entire army of fans outside the hotel," Shelby informs us as we're taking the stage to ensure everything is good to go. "It's a madhouse."
"Fuck my life," I groan. "How'd they find us?"
"Same as usual, I guess."
I kind of hoped we could ride through Chicago with minimal fuss. Apparently, that isn't in the cards for us.
"Their top floor is secure. You have to have a keycard for one of those rooms to access it. We're booking it out for the rest of the weekend for you guys. Xander will have security posted at the elevators."
"Ireland stays with me," I growl.
"Figured you'd say that. Dani is moving her stuff to your new room." She hands me a keycard and then grins. "Good luck keeping up with her mess. You're going to need it."
"I can handle it." I smile, slipping the keycard into my pocket before jogging onto the stage.
Ireland waves from her seat in the front row.
I shoot her a wink before we huddle up and figure out a game plan for sound check. We decide to run through one of the new songs and take our places. I keep my eyes on Ireland the entire time, crooning the lyrics to her as we sing and dance our way across the stage.
She claps and whistles, dancing along in her seat. When the song ends, she jumps to her feet, cheering loudly.
For the first time in a long time, I realize that I'm proud to be a member of this band. It may not have been the dream I had when I left Nashville at sixteen for Julliard. I don't think it was Mason's dream when I met him there, either. It wasn't Asher or Jax or Jameson's dream when they answered the audition call either. None of us imagined we'd be thrown together in a boy band. But what we did mattered then. To us and to the fans. And it matters now, too.