because of who she was to the world, but for the simple fact that there was no one I liked more than her.
“Yep. That’s my girl.”
“You lucky fucker.” He was in his late teens, acne riddling the edges of his jaw, his body not yet filled in. I remembered those years. I didn’t remember being so blunt, but I couldn’t argue with his sentiment.
“More than you know.” I handed him back his pen and jersey. I had intended to go over to Emma. But found I couldn’t move. God, she glowed.
I now recognized how much of a hit her confidence had taken when she’d first arrived at Rosemont. She had always been beautiful, smart, and headstrong, but she hadn’t radiated this level of self-assurance and happiness at first.
Rosemont had healed her.
I wanted to take some credit for her transformation as well. Without doubt, she’d brought me back to life, made me want to be a better man. But had I done something similar for her? I knew she liked being with me. But could I make her proud? Because after today, I would go back to Rosemont as a man without direction.
Her star was on the rise, while mine had fallen. A lump swelled in my throat as I stared at her. It was perhaps prophetic, or maybe a wish granted, that my phone buzzed with an incoming text from my agent, Carlos.
Something kicked hard and potent in the center of my chest. Rickman and my team’s GM, Clark, wanted to meet.
Carlos: I’m not promising anything. But they have some interesting ideas that I think we should hear out.
I glanced up at Emma, still working the crowd, and my fingers tightened around my phone, a weird surge of fear and hope swirling within me. My fingers were steady as I responded:
I’ll be there.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Emma
“Come with me.” I took Lucian’s hand and led him out onto the private patio of our bungalow. We’d been apart all day—Lucian in meetings, and me in meetings, then hanging out with Tate. I had so much to tell him; excitement and anticipation bubbled in my veins like freshly popped champagne. But that could wait. Here and now was our time.
The Marilyn Bungalow was booked, so Lucian had reserved us Bungalow 5, which had one particular feature I wanted to use. A pool.
He stopped at its edge, and a small smile played around the edges of his lips. “How did I know you’d eventually lead me out here?”
I toed off my sandals. “That’s what you get when you torment innocent women with your late-night hot-body aquatics show.”
He laughed, the sound rich and rumbling. Free. Lucian might not have been fully healed in mind and spirit, but he was slowly losing the tension that rode him and was starting to come out of his shell. I loved it.
“Hot body, huh?” Wintergreen eyes twinkled in the twilight.
“You know it, Brick. You’re a walking inducement to sex. Temptation with swagger.”
His nostrils flared, but his tone was smooth as cream. “You say the nicest things, Snoop.”
“Mmm . . . now off with the clothes, honey pie.”
Lucian’s brow quirked, but he was far too distracted by me pulling my dress overhead to reply for a good moment. When he did, his voice had gone gruff. “You’re stripping.”
I grinned wide. “Observant tonight, aren’t we?”
His lips twitched. “You really want to do this?”
I knew what he meant. High walls and greenery surrounded the pool on all sides, but it wasn’t a private home. There was a chance we might be seen by some enterprising wall-climbing paparazzi. An admitted infinitesimal chance. But Lucian and I were both hyperaware of our fame. Thing was, I didn’t care anymore. If someone wanted to go to such lengths to try to embarrass me, there was nothing I could do about it. I wanted to live. I wanted to rejoice in life and just be.
I reached behind me and unhooked my bra.
Lucian let out a low groan when I tossed it aside. “Hell, Em. I don’t think I’ll ever not want you.”
The intensity of his gaze felt like a velvet glove along my skin. “Good, because you’re going to get me. A lot.”
He grunted, the sound pleased and slightly predatory. A new pulse of heat went up my thighs and tightened my sex.
My fingers hooked on my panties, but I paused. “You’re not stripping.”
Lucian blinked, as if coming out of a fog, then shot me a wry look as he whipped off his shirt. Lord, but he was