Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade Book 5) - Crystal Kaswell Page 0,8

need oxygen.

***

After a long evening making up for lost time, I take a shower, change into my new hot pink Las Vegas pajamas, and collapse in bed.

For sleep, this time.

This still feels like a dream. Starting at my nail, I trace the ring finger of my left hand. Chapped skin, hard bones, the bump of the knuckle, and my engagement ring.

Marriage is as forever as it gets.

I want that with him.

I want everything with him.

He slides his arms around me and presses his lips to my forehead. His voice is nervous. "You still excited?"

I nod. "And scared."

"That's normal."

"You're scared?"

"I miss you when I'm away. It hurts." He runs his fingers through my wet hair. "Used to be, I thought it was easier, never getting invested in anything enough to hurt."

"Me too."

"It's not. Better to have seven months a year of joy and five where I miss you enough it hurts to breathe."

"Really?"

He nods. "I'd rather it be ten months with you and two away, but I can make this work. If you want me around more, all you have to do is ask."

I trace the tattoos on his chest and shoulders. Each is another piece of his heart. A fierce dragon scaring off anyone who tries to get too close. A rose covered in thorns, enticing, beautiful and guarded. Spread wings, ready to fly away from everything that hurts.

And those words.

Be Brave, Live.

Megara.

His chest heaves with his inhale and falls with his exhale. His eyes are closed.

He's asleep.

I do want more of him. I want 365 days of him. But I'm never going to ask for that. He needs the stage. I need medicine.

We just have to figure out how to balance the two.

Somehow.

For the better part of an hour, I try to sleep. Around three A.M., I give up and go to the main room. The lights of The Strip flow in through the window. Even at three A.M., the city is bright and vivid. Even at three A.M., the streets are lined with cars and with people walking from casino to casino. Most are in winter coats. A few are in cocktail dresses, no doubt buzzed enough the cold temperature doesn't bother them.

What would Rosie do if she were here?

Get wasted.

But if she were sober? If she'd survived the overdose and clawed her way through recovery the way Miles did?

After she gave up on telling me to put school first, she'd find a gaudy venue, pick out an ornate dress, and spend our parents' money like it was going out of style.

There would probably be a horrifying bachelorette party with male strippers and penis-shaped straws.

I close my eyes and remember her room. It was loud, like her. Bright colors, ornate lights, flashy vanity mirror.

Perfect for a Vegas wedding.

God, I wish she were here. It still hurts that she doesn't exist in the world.

Miles is the only thing that makes it hurt less.

The energy in the room shifts. He's up.

He comes closer. No words, but I can hear his breath and his footsteps.

Then he's behind me.

Miles slides his arms around my waist. He pulls my body into his.

The world makes sense when we're pressed together.

Can I go another two months without those arms around me?

I'm not sure I can.

His lips brush my earlobe. "You look fuckable when you’re all pensive."

"Do I?" I arch my back to rub my ass against his crotch. I'd like to be thinking nothing. He can help with that.

Miles chuckles. "Princess, it's impolite to use your fiancée for his body."

"Is that right?"

He nods. "You keep going off someplace. Rosie?"

I nod. "She'd love a Vegas wedding."

"Damon too. He had a soft spot for whirlwind romances." Miles presses his lips against my neck. His hands slide around my waist, pulling me closer. "You've got an anchor tied to your ankle."

"Since when do you speak in metaphors?"

"It's something new I'm trying."

"For your lyrics?"

"For everything."

"I thought you were letting Pete take over writing Sinful Serenade’s lyrics," I tease.

"I'll have to punish you if you don't show me respect."

"Okay. Let's go now."

"It's not a punishment if you ask for it." He slides his hands to my hips. "You know I'm happy to fuck you any time, any place."

"And yet my clothes are on."

He presses his lips to my neck. "Remember our deal?"

"What deal?"

"No secrets, no lies."

"The deal we made when we were fuck buddies?" I laugh. "Another part of it was no falling in love. That didn't work so well."

"You can't blame me for that." He presses his cheek against