MARRYING THE ROCKSTAR (#3 ROCKSTAR SERIES)

♪ twenty-four ♪🔥

When the pounding stopped, I let out a breath of relief. Of course, Leo interpreted it as a sigh of satisfaction, and I wouldn't tell him otherwise.

I wasn't ready to discuss the things that had flown through my head while he was fucking me.

We made our way upstairs, barely clothed, and got straight into bed; not for another round, thank goodness, but for a nap.

A nap in his arms, snuggled and warm, a place where I should have felt safe—

But I didn't. I was exposed, like this reel was playing over and over in my mind with Cameron's voice on it, straining, draining me, prodding at me. Remember, remember...he kept saying, his hands on me as he spoke, his eyes deep into mine as he kissed me, touched me, fucked me.

And then I'd open my eyes and gasp in realization that it was a dream, it was all a dream, and I couldn't go back to sleep. Until I nestled back in Leo's embrace to go over the process all over again.

Leo's arms around me were hurting me. Plunging me deeper into the misery I thought he'd taken away from me.

But he didn't. Giving in to having sex with him, caving like I had, only made it all worse. Only brought back all the reasons why I was supposed to avoid sex with Leo until we had a serious discussion.

Well, there was no point trying now. Leo was fast asleep, breaths wisping out of his opened mouth, chest rising and falling in peace. He had no idea, no idea how deep our issues ran. How complicated our situation was.

And how my ex and his ex and former best friend were involved.

We woke to dinner in bed, brought up and dropped off by Nicky. How he'd known we were up here, and naked, and famished, I'd never dare to guess. But I appreciated the sustenance as I devoured each morsel, and yawned as fatigue settled in my bones.

Leo may have slept like a baby most of the afternoon, but I'd been restless. My mind hadn't turned off, my worries hadn't dissipated. So, unlike him, I needed to sleep more. He stayed up, putting on a TV show to watch as I attempted to snooze off, to put my concerns aside for a few hours.

A few hours of rest before the confrontation began.

I was delaying the inevitable, I knew. The argument to come, the one that might break us up, permanently. The one that would cut me off from sex with Leo—which was probably why I kept delaying it, kept telling myself one more time, one more round. Because my conscience knew, somehow, that it'd likely be our last.

I woke up feeling nauseous. It was the middle of the night, and Leo was asleep again, quietly snoring, not holding me. I sat up, scrubbed my face, and went to the bathroom, splashing water over my tepid skin. Nothing physically hurt except my brain, which felt like it'd been working overtime.

Like it'd been up, conspiring while I tried to sleep.

I hesitated to return to bed. How was I supposed to go back into the arms of a man I was no longer sure about? Whose demeanor kept me on my toes, and not in a good way? Who I'd been warned against but took the plunge for, anyway?

And now my mind, my innermost hunches were telling me to run.

But I couldn't, not yet. First, I had to give Leo a chance to listen to my woes, to accept them. Because for all I knew, he might. He loved me so much, or so he said; did that mean he'd agree to postpone the wedding? To get the help I believed he needed? To set some boundaries between us, to figure out if we were indeed more than sex?

I had to have some kind of hope that he'd be an understanding man. He was often rash, from time to time off-the-rails, but he was a reasonable person. An adult. A man with a heart and who'd grown to accept me and my quirks. So why couldn't I accept his?