Page 101 of Sweet Distraction

He presses a kiss to the top of Poppy’s head and shrugs. “I wasn’t sure. Things were up in the air with her and where things stood. Now they’re not.”

Is it stupid that the smallest, romantic part of me wanted him to say it was because he wanted me there? That he wanted to show me his life and what touring is like? That he wanted to share it with me?

But that’s my crazy talking.

We’ve slept together one time. It’s not like we’ve discussed monogamy or exclusivity or any of that.

Do I want to go on tour with him? Do I want to see fans and other women fawn all over him? What if I woke up early to take Poppy somewhere, and I were to see a woman sneak out of his hotel room?

Jealously streaks through me at the thought.

“Hello? Earth to Willow. What are you thinking?”

I draw in a measured breath. “That’s . . . a lot.”

He nods slowly. “A lot, as in too much time with me? As in, you can’t nanny properly or you’re afraid I’ll be a different person on tour? As in . . . what, exactly?”

“As in testing the boundaries of all the things when we’re just getting used to this situation altogether.”

“You think I’m going to have you in one hotel room and bring someone back to another, don’t you?” he asks in coded wording since we have Poppy sitting with us.

I would never have expected to hear hurt in his voice, but it’s there, and it hits me just as hard as the pained look he gives me.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” He holds my stare and gives the slightest shake of his head as if he’s disappointed in me.

“It was one time. It would sound unhinged if I assumed that there was more or that we were exclu—”

“I kissed you earlier.” My eyes grow wide, and I glance at Poppy, prepared to protest but he waves me away. “What? Let her know. I don’t care.”

“Rocket, you’re being—”

“Irrational? Yes. I am. Just like you’re being.”

“I just—”

“Then make it more than one time, Wills. Make it every night. Make it whatever you want so that when we leave this house to go on tour, you’re secure enough in whatever this is here that you’re not afraid I can’t control my urges with other women.”

I stare at him—eyes blinking, jaw lax, brain stuttering—and try to wrap my head around what he just said.

How did I go from wondering how to bring it up to him just laying it out there in a matter of minutes? How did I end up looking like the ass here?

“And if you say no, then I’m going to tell you, as your employer, you don’t have a choice because it’s important for Poppy to be with me and continue to grow this bond. She can see what I do, and you guys can explore new places. Plus, I want you there.”

My whole body warms with affection for this man who’s a continuous contradiction.

“Rock . . . you really know how to sweet-talk a girl.”

He shrugs and winks nonchalantly. “I’ve had some practice. So . . . yes?”

I bite the inside of my cheek as I study him. He’s serious. And I’m insane for actually considering it. Right? “Yes.”

Poppy points to her juice on the table and grunts, so Rocket lifts her out of the pool and onto the deck. We both watch her walk over to it and sit in the shade to drink it. My mind buzzes with the conversation we just had. With the implications. With the way his words made me feel.

“Wait . . . you said you wanted to talk about a few things. What are the other things?”

He sighs, his tone shifting as he glances over to make sure Poppy is still in the shade. “My lawyer called a few days ago.”