Page 83 of The Perfect Melody

I’m teetering on the edge, and I can tell Austin’s close too when the rhythm of his thrusts falters. “Oh, fuck. Are you?—”

“So close,” I interrupt, with an eager nod.

“Yes, let me feel it.”

I grind down on him harder and tug on his hair. Austin’s teeth graze over the spot where my neck and shoulder meet. My inner muscles clamp down around his thick cock, and I cry out as pleasure floods my entire body. Austin watches me intently, his emerald gaze scorching hot. After a few more short, sharp thrusts, his cock pulses and his lips part on a moan of ecstasy as he fills me with his hot cum.

Still panting, Austin drops his head forward to nuzzle my collarbone. “You’re incredible.”

Words that it’s far too soon for me to say rest on the tip of my tongue. I swallow them, opting to run my hands through his sweat-damp hair and kiss him gently instead. After a minute, I pull back. “I’m going to need you to carry me to the shower.”

I feel the rumble of his low chuckle as much as I hear it. “Give me one more minute, then I will.”

Tightening my arms around him, I rest my head against his. “OK. One more minute.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Austin

Wakingup with Cassie in my arms is something I’m still getting used to. Her legs are tangled with mine beneath the covers, and she’s thrown her arm over my waist. After our shower last night, she put her hair in a plait—a style I’ve noticed she prefers for sleep. With her glasses still perched safely on the side table, I have the perfect view of her face. Like this, there’s no sign of the dark cloud that’s been her constant companion since she came to town. While I like to believe that I—and the friends she’s made here—have brought some sunshine to her life, I worry it’s not enough.

I’m not stupid—there’s obviously more to whatever is going on between Cassie and her mother than she’s let on. Cassie wants to stay here, but whatever secrets she’s keeping are holding her back. My head knows the woman in my arms meant it when she said she wants to make Pine Grove her new home. However, I’m self-aware enough to recognise that the part of me shaped by the young boy I used to be, whose father left to start a new family and never looked back, won’t feel at ease until Cassie’s put a concrete plan in place.

“You’re thinking awfully hard over there. What’s on your mind?” Cassie’s voice is thick with sleep.

“The future.”

She snuggles closer to lay a soft kiss on my bare chest. “You’re worried about something?”

I can’t tell her the truth. Not without coming across like I’m pushing her to tell me what she’s hiding before she’s ready. “No, not really.”

Her fingers lightly trace over my arm, creating patterns between my freckles that only she can see. “You sure?”

I kiss the top of her head. “Yeah. I just like to plan ahead, that’s all.”

Cassie’s baby-blue eyes search mine as if she might find the answers she’s looking for if only she looks hard enough. “OK. These mysterious plans had better include me, though.”

“Of course they do.” Wanting to lighten the mood, I add, “Who else is going to steal all my shirts?”

* * *

Cassie

Austin’s nervous, but I think the best way to approach this practice session is for me to act like everything’s fine. He’s more likely to relax if I keep the focus on the music rather than on him. We’re sitting on opposite ends of his navy couch, guitars in hand. I’m not surprised he could tune his by ear—it’s obvious he’s an experienced musician even if he’s not confident in his abilities. With anyone else, I’d assume it was false modesty, but that’s not who Austin is.

With Austin, what you see is what you get, and if you don’t like what you get, you can go somewhere else. It’s one of the things I like most about him. Unlike with the people in my old life, there’s no need to be constantly on guard, searching for ahidden motive. If Austin wants something, he’ll ask for it, just like he did by asking me to perform at Bowman’s again. I agreed because I genuinely want to do it, but I know that if I’d turned him down, he would have respected my decision.

Guilt churns in my stomach and I fidget uncomfortably. With our performance scheduled for just under three weeks away, the pressure’s on for me to figure out how I’m going to share my secret. Doing a second gig as Cassie St. James could blow my cover, but I don’t know how to tell Austin the truth. The longer I keep quiet, the more difficult it becomes. I think we’ll be OK as long as I tell him before our performance. That’s the only way to guarantee he’ll hear the truth from me before anyone else can find out and beat me to it. What I do know is that right now, while Austin’s practically gnawing a groove into his lower lip with worry, isnotthe time to tell him.

Leaning forward, I grab my phone from the coffee table and open the music app, pulling up the first of the two song suggestions I came up with. I’m not sure if Austin will know them. If he doesn’t, I’ll play them and see what he thinks. “Alright, I have a couple of songs in mind, but if you don’t like my choices, we can absolutely change them,” I tell Austin.

He perks up. “What have you picked?”

They’re both country songs. I went with one classic and one more modern option. Austin’s face lights up with recognition when I rattle off my suggestions.

“I already know the chords for both.” His smile dims. “Or I did. Like I said before, until you caught me in my office, it had been a few months since I last played. I kind of let the bar take over my whole life for a while there,” he admits sheepishly.

“That’s because you love Bowman’s and it needed your attention for it to become what it is today. Now that you’ve reopened and things are running smoothly, you can make room for other things you love again. It’ll just take a little while to getback into the habit of keeping your personal time a work-free zone.”