Here With You (A Laurel Heights Novel) - By Kate Perry Page 0,48

smitten woman, I know, but it's not like that."

Marley and Valentine exchanged another look.

Nicole grinned. "It really isn't. He's not a douchebag."

"He's a musician," Marley pointed out. "Douchebag is practically synonymous."

"I don't believe it. He's always been solid. He'd have told me if he were engaged."

"Fine." Marley rolled her eyes. "When you're devastated because he's marrying a supermodel, just remember that I suck at the touchy-feely stuff. But because you're my friend, if you need to—I don't know—cry or something, I'll try not to panic."

Nicole laughed. "You're a pal."

Marley nodded. "I really do try."

They lay in her bed together. He sprawled out length-wise, and her head dangled off the side. Their clothes were strewn all over the floor, including the new purple Mimi Holliday set she'd wanted to show off to Grif. In his defense, he had admired it for a few seconds before stripping it off her.

She almost hadn't worn the new lingerie. She'd had a niggle of unease since the conversation with Marley and Valentine, and she didn't want to distract from it. But in the end, she knew she was just being paranoid. In fact...

She turned and slid up against his body, nestling her head on his shoulder. "I saw a funny story today."

He played with a strand of her hair. "What sort of funny story?"

"About you, being engaged to that supermodel Inga."

His body stiffened, not very much but enough that she noticed. "Where did you see the news?"

"All over." She chuckled. "It was detailed, with statements from your manager as well as Inga."

"It's not true."

She hadn't realized she'd been holding tension in her shoulders all day until right then. She rubbed his chest, feeling a surge of possessiveness that went hand-in-hand with joy. "I know. I didn't believe it."

"But we were engaged."

"What?" She sat up, frowning.

He propped himself on his elbow. "I broke it off before coming here. It was momentary insanity. It was never going to work with Inga, with the way we were both constantly jetting off in opposite directions."

"You were engaged?" she repeated, sounding shrill to her own ears. "For how long?"

"It doesn't matter—"

"Of course it matters." Pulling away, she sat up on her knees. "You loved her enough to propose to her. How does that not matter? That's huge. You don't just propose to someone. You obviously thought you could spend the rest of your life with her."

"I broke up with her, Nicole," he said, sitting up. "I obviously didn't believe it'd work."

"You broke up with her and then came here to see me." She crossed her arms, glaring. "So what does that make me? The other woman? The rebound? None of these answers are good."

He reached for her. "Nic—"

"No." She scrambled away from him. "Marriage is forever. You yourself said you wanted what your parents have. You must have thought you'd get it with Inga."

"I was wrong." He held his hand out, his gaze steady on her. "Just hear me out, okay?"

She glared at him, waiting.

Exhaling, he brushed his hair back. "I thought Inga was everything I could want, but there were things that were seriously missing. Intimacy, for one. And she didn't understand why I'd want to tour instead of follow her around and serenade her. In the end, she was a blip on the radar. This is just a publicity ploy by my manager and Inga."

She nodded stiffly. "Is my name going to end up in the magazines, too?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Does that make what happened between us more real, or less true? Because it seems like maybe this is a blip on the radar."

"No." He stood up. "You're not like that, Nic."

"What am I then? You said you were going to leave, so how am I any different?" Except that she didn't rate a proposal.

That hurt—way more than she'd thought it would.

Grif stepped toward her. "I want you to come with me."

"You didn't want to tag along and follow Inga all over the world, but you're asking me to do the same thing? How does that make sense? And what would I do? Be the dependent girlfriend? Or worse, the chick who's having sex with the star without any promise of anything?"

"You're free, Nicole. There's nothing holding you here."

"What about my job?"

"What about your designs?"

"Not this again."

"Yes, this again." He frowned. "Maybe it's time you did something you actually cared about."

"I care about Romantic Notions."

"But it's not yours." He grabbed his jeans off the floor and pulled them up. "You have a real talent for designing. I