My Cone and Only (King Family #1) - Susannah Nix Page 0,71

had Andie. And Josh. I was actually pretty damn lucky.

I managed a half-hearted smile. “So you’re saying I’m being a big old whiny baby?”

“No, I’m saying you’re important to people, and you should try to remember that. Sometimes I worry that you forget it.”

I did forget it. I’d spent a lot of years feeling alone even when I was surrounded by family and friends. I’d done some of it to myself on purpose, and I’d been doing it for so long that it had become a habit.

Andie reached up and tapped me on the nose. “You’re a good songwriter. Do you hear me? You’re good. If you want to do this, then you should do it. Don’t make up reasons why you can’t.”

Don’t make up reasons why you can’t.

How long had I spent telling myself I couldn’t have Andie? Denying myself a chance at happiness because I was scared to take a risk. If she hadn’t needed my help with this house situation, I might have gone on that way for the rest of my life, numbing my feelings and pretending I was fine with feeling empty and alone.

Wasn’t that exactly what I’d been doing with my music? Trying to pretend I didn’t want to pursue it because I was scared it wouldn’t work out like I hoped.

Maybe it was time to stop pretending and take a risk.

I pulled Andie closer and hugged her tight as I kissed her temple. “Thank you.”

She nestled into my chest, holding me just as tight. “For what?”

“For knowing me.”

18

Wyatt

This week had been the best of my life. Hands down. No contest. I’d been floating around in a moony-eyed daze since last weekend, so happy I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I’d stayed over at Andie’s place every night, and hadn’t been back to my apartment since Monday. The sex wasn’t even the best part—although it was seriously, mind-blowingly excellent. The parts I loved most were the quiet, comfortable moments we were together. Having coffee in the mornings before we started our days, playing my guitar for her after dinner while she worked on those funny needlepoints she did, or cuddling in bed after we’d screwed each other’s brains out.

We’d stayed up way too late most nights, our bodies tangled together in the dark, talking about everything and nothing while I ran my hands over her bare skin—or she’d run her hands over mine—getting to know each other inside and out until we finally drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.

Before Andie, the post-coital cuddle had always been my cue to leave. It wasn’t that I didn’t like cuddling—I fucking loved it—it was just that it tended to give women the wrong impression. If you stuck around too long, they started to get ideas. It set expectations I hadn’t been able to meet. I’d tried sticking it out a few times with a few different women, but I’d never had the staying power for a relationship. I always got bored and restless and started looking for an exit pretty quick.

This thing with Andie was something wholly different and new.

I couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of spending time with her. When we weren’t together, I thought about her constantly, and when we were, I could barely tear my eyes away from her.

I’d never had these kinds of feelings when I was with a woman before. Mushy, gushy, sappy feelings. I didn’t just want to jump Andie’s bones—although I absolutely wanted to do that as much as possible. I also wanted to hold her hand and fall asleep spooning with her and just generally gaze at her adoringly all the time.

Like I was doing right now.

Fuck.

I had to remind myself we were supposed to be keeping our relationship a secret. Staring at Andie with hearts in my eyes while I was up onstage at the Rusty Spoke singing The Cars’ “Just What I Needed” was pretty much a surefire way to blow our cover.

We were playing our regular gig out on the back patio for the bar’s Friday night patrons. At practice earlier this week, I’d finally told the rest of the band about the songs I’d been writing. I’d played a few for them, and they’d seemed excited at the prospect of having original songs to perform at our gigs. Our drummer, Matt, who’d been taking piano lessons since he was five and was the best musician in the band, had volunteered to help me flesh out what I had, adding bass, percussion, rhythm