She let out a little giggle mixed with a sob. “I really am glad you’re here. I needed one of your full-body hugs more than I realized.”
“You don’t get hugs from Devon Chambers?”
You know, most of the time, I was a moderately smart man, but there were times, like this one, I questioned if I even had a brain in my head. Michaela pulled away immediately, wrapping her arms around herself protectively.
“Do you have something to ask me, Moses?”
“Guess I do.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, rocking back on my heels. “Why didn’t you tell me you were touring with your ex-husband?”
“I feel like you’re trying to imply something, and I’d rather you just say it.”
I might as well go all in. I would wonder if I didn’t ask, and she would know I was wondering. “You still have feelings for him? Something going on between you? Is that why you didn’t tell me?”
Michaela turned away from me, her hand braced on the door. “Actually, I’m not sure I want to answer your ridiculous and insulting questions.” She looked at me over her shoulder. “I might not remember everything about our night in Vegas, but I do remember telling you what he did to me.”
She opened the door, and I slammed my hand on the thin wood, sealing it shut. “I flew all the way out here to be with you. Stop walking away from me.”
She dropped her forehead against the door. “I didn’t ask you to come here. I wouldn’t. This is my job.”
Pushing her ponytail aside, I dipped my head down so my mouth was beside her ear. “And you’re my wife. And that’s my baby.”
“Stop saying that,” she whispered.
“I’m not going to stop. Not when it’s true. We’re working shit out, Michaela, but that doesn’t make you any less mine.” I smoothed my hands up her sides and around to her stomach, pulling her back against my front. “You feel so fucking good.”
A soft whimper escaped her, and she let herself lean against me. “I’m angry with you.”
“Funny, because I’m angry with you too. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to touch you.”
Her hand reached up to hold on to the side of my neck, giving me access to her. I raised her shirt to get my hands on her bare skin, and we both released long sighs. I thought about this, about her, every damn night. The way she smelled, how her skin felt under my hands, her voice, all of her. My cock was rock hard, pressing against the zipper of my jeans, but I tried like hell not to rock into her. As much as she turned me on, made me want her, we weren’t there.
We were in this dressing room at her ex-husband’s show, trying to figure each other out.
“Tell me something true, Michaela.”
“The truth is, I hadn’t spoken to Devon in two years before he asked me to do this tour. The last time I saw him, he asked me to come to his room to talk, and when I showed up, he was doing blow off some girl’s butt. He was a bad husband, and not a great human, but we grew up together, so our shared history will always bind us…at least a little. I’m okay if I don’t see him for another few years after this, though.”
Bending down, I kissed her cheek. She turned her head enough for me to capture the side of her mouth. She let out a shaky breath, and I held her tight, stroking her silky skin.
“I’m jealous he gets your time. Jealous he got to have a real marriage with you. Jealous he’s watching our baby grow in your belly while I’m on the other side of the country. I feel like a complete ass, but there it is.”
She spun in my arms and laid her head on my chest. “You’re not an ass. I mean, yeah, you were an ass today, but not about this.”
Gripping her ponytail, I gave it a tug so I could see her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“This wasmeprotectingyou. I naively hoped you wouldn’t have to know his identity, so if you ever came into contact with him, it wouldn’t be weird for you. This industry is such a small world with big mouths. I should have known better.”
“You didn’t think it would be weird for me to run into that guy at some awards show and have him tell me he used to be married to my girl?”
“Honestly, I didn’t think very far ahead. Devon and I got married twelve years ago. God, you were still in middle school then, weren’t you?”
Her attempt at picking at my age produced a noise of contempt from my throat. Her eyes went soft, while mine went hard. I fucking hated this. We were two blunt objects, crashing into each other again and again, neither of us giving. Wanting her was the most frustrating experience of my life.
She pressed her index finger to my lips. “Don’t be mad at me. My very bumbling point was Dev and I were a lifetime ago. I’m not even close to the same person I was then. Although, a lot of my feelings on relationships with musicians were formed then, and I still drag them around like tin cans on the back of newlywed’s cars—clanking around and obnoxious when I’m trying to move on.” A warm palm curled around the side of my neck. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not used to answering to anyone or explaining myself. I’ll be better.”
I released a slow exhale. “I’m sorry too, Mic. I wish we could have a do-over on this day.”
Her lids lowered, and she looked up at me through thick, dark lashes. “Before I came in here, I checked your tour dates with mine. For science. And I noticed you have two days off that coincide with our hotel stay in Miami next week.”