I caught her finger and bit it. “I don’t have wrinkles.”
She narrowed her eyes and tipped her head. “You do sometimes. But you can Botox that shit smooth if you don’t like the daddy look.”
Exasperated, yet amused, I sighed through my nose. “Maeve.”
Her smile grew broad and sunny. “Yes, Santiago?”
“I need you to never call me daddy again. I’m about to get a fucking complex.”
“But you look so damn hot when you get stern with me.”
When I didn’t answer—because what the hell could I say?—she laughed and snuggled her face into my chest. “Don’t be annoyed with me. Likin’ you as much as I do makes me act silly. So really, if anyone is to blame, it’s you.”
“I don’t think I could be annoyed with you, not when my hands are on your ass.”
She tipped her head so far back, her long hair brushed my hands. “Now you’ve given me the key to winning any future arguments.”
Happier than I should’ve been with so much up in the air, I gave into it. We were in Paris motherfucking France. If I didn’t walk around holding hands with my girl, floating on the high of being so into her I couldn’t see straight, then it was time to reevaluate.
For the hundredth time on this tour, I walked in on Murray getting handsy with Maeve. He had her face in his hand as he drew a tiny heart beside her eye, the matching one already etched on his. They’d been doing this for half the tour, but hadn’t gotten Mo or me to join in. I figured one day I’d wake up with a heart beside my eye, and I’d resigned myself to it. I just hoped Maeve would be the one sneaking into my bed doing the drawing, though I wouldn’t be surprised to find Murray looming over me in the dark.
“Perfect,” he murmured, letting her go.
Her eyes stayed closed for a beat as she smiled at him. Full, crimson lips spread wide, and my heart thrummed. She was happy. Full-on, megawatt smile happy.
“I love it.” She hugged him, and he returned her embrace. Seeing the two of them stirred something in my belly. Not jealousy—their affection was clearly based on friendship—but it might’ve been a kind of dread. The tour would be over soon, decisions would have to be made about Maeve, and I wasn’t sure she’d like me too much if I was the deciding factor on her staying with the band or not. I wasn’t sure Murray would like me either.
Hell, if Maeve left, she just might take Murray with her, whether she wanted him or not.
My gut twisted and turned at the thought of not having her here…with me…with the band. That wasn’t what I wanted. But this part of me, the big brother I guessed it was, couldn’t let go of Diego sitting on the throne Maeve now occupied.
I cleared my throat, and they both turned in my direction. I raised my eyebrow, and Maeve stuck her tongue out, remaining in Murray’s arms.
“Did you think we didn’t know you were lurking?” she asked.
Murray’s hold on her tightened, making her shriek and pinch his arm until he let her go. He raised his hands in innocence. “Okay, fine. Your boyfriend walks into the room and suddenly I’m nothing to you? I see how it is.”
My entire being froze. Every muscle, vein, liquid—the whole of me turned to ice. But not Maeve. She laughed, swatted at Murray, told him he was stupid, and chased him out of her closet-sized dressing room. When she shut the door, I still hadn’t moved. Not even when her palms smoothed up my chest and looped around my neck.
“So, Murray thinks you’re my boyfriend. Funny, huh?” She tipped her head to the side, blinking her kohl-rimmed eyes. “I guess we haven’t been as sneaky as we thought. But I’ll go set him straight if you want.”
“How would you do that?”
Her hands slid to the side of my neck, rubbing light circles over my tense tendons.
“I’d tell him we’re just foolin’ around. Nothing serious.”
My arms thawed enough to move, and I gripped her hips. “Is that what we’re doing?”
“Well…” she pulled her wet raspberry bottom lip between her teeth, “I know you’re always serious, which makes me think maybe you’re serious about me, but you also like to fool around, so there’s a possibility that’s what’s happenin’ here.”
My thumbs slipped under the bottom of her shirt, pressing into her softness. I wished like hell all of me was pressing intoallof her softness, but we were going on in an hour, and a quickie wasn’t what I needed with her. Not when she was biting that pretty lip and teasing about only fooling around.
“You want me to be your boyfriend, Maeve?” Thumbs stroking, stroking, driving us both a little bit crazy with the smallest touch.
Her hands moved to slide beneath the short sleeves of my shirt, rubbing more tight circles at the tops of my arms. “Can you tell me what that entails before I decide?”
“Did you like it when I kneeled at your pretty feet, spread your legs, and sucked your clit until you screamed so loud our neighbors banged on the wall?”