More of Us ( A Love You More Rock Star Romance #3) - Laura Pavlov Page 0,104
Cruz wore black joggers, a vintage rock tee, and military boots. His hair was disheveled and sexy, and he had fully embraced this new life in New York. This city fit him so well. He loved that we walked everywhere to eat and shop, and that we could take public transportation, and of course there were endless museums to visit here. He liked that people weren’t following him with cameras, and no one was getting in his business.
“You happy?” he asked.
“Very. How about you? You sure you’re ready to give up the rock star life, Professor?”
He laughed and held out a piece of sweet and sour chicken on his chopsticks and I opened my mouth, allowing him to pop it in. “It’s been a long time coming. I’m ready. For all of it.”
“Yeah? Imagine how all the freshman girls are going to swoon over Cruz Winslow teaching their songwriting course.” The class had already had to be broken into two separate blocks as it had filled up within the first ninety seconds of being open for registration.
“Only one girl I want to swoon,” he said, dropping his chopsticks on the coffee table and tipping me back on the couch, propping himself above me.
“I’m already swooning, Winslow,” I said through a fit of giggles.
“You sure about that?”
“I’m positive,” I said, smiling up at him.
He lifted my arm and kissed the little music note tattoo on the inside of my wrist. “So, when can I propose?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re not supposed to ask me, fool.”
“Why not? You live by rules. I don’t. I’d marry you today and put a few babies in you if you’d let me. But we both know you have a plan, and I just need you to give me the thumbs up when it’s fucking go-time.”
It was difficult to speak through my laughter. “Go time? Really? And put a few babies in me? Are you serious right now?”
He looked down at me, his honey browns dancing with mischief. “Dead. Fucking. Serious.”
“We just moved in together. I’m starting medical school, you’re getting your masters and teaching. Let’s just sit on this for a minute.” I tangled my fingers in his hair.
“Not really my style, but I’ll do it for you.”
“Okay.” I bit down on my bottom lip. “Thanks for coming to New York with me.”
“I’d go anywhere with you. Thanks for waiting for me to stop being a fuck up.”
“I’d wait for you forever,” I whispered.
His mouth came over mine, and he lifted me in his arms as he pushed to his feet and my legs wrapped around his waist. His lips never left mine as he walked me down the hall to our bedroom.
He dropped me on the bed, and I bounced on the new mattress. I scrambled over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. “I got something for you.”
“Is it a sex toy?”
I laughed. “No, you perv. It’s a book.”
He dropped down beside me on the bed and I handed it to him.
“Pride and Prejudice. Ah, a little Jane Austen. Does Mr. Darcy do it for you?” he rolled me on my back and settled above me.
“Cruz Winslow does it for me.” My voice came out all breathy and needy which made us both laugh.
“That’s what I like to hear, More Jade.”
He kissed my neck, and the book dropped onto the mattress beside us. His mouth came over mine before he pulled away and sat back on his heels and reached for the book.
“You want me to read to you now?” he asked, and I didn’t miss the heat in his eyes.
I grabbed the book and tossed it to the side. “Mr. Darcy can wait.”
“Is that so? Tell me what you need, baby,” he said, leaning over me again.
“More Cruz Winslow.”
He laughed. “Not a problem. I’m all yours.”
“And I’m all yours,” I whispered.
“Damn straight. Always have been, always will be.”