Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Fuck. Please let them be right.
I didn’t need a big, showy apology. I just wanted Pierce to hold me again.
25
PIERCE SUTTON
It was becoming harder and harder to avoid Simon. Especially since he was currently living in my house.
Upon returning from Charlotte, the first thing I’d wanted to do was race to Declan’s house and beg Simon to give me a second chance after the mess I’d made of things so far. I really believed he wouldn’t hesitate to take me back and forgive all the bullshit I’d heaped on him for so long.
But he deserved better than that. He deserved to be showered with love and devotion. He needed proof that I loved him and treasured everything about him. And this evidence needed to be something he’d see every damn day when he was doing the thing he loved most.
To accomplish this task, I needed help. Lots of it.
Stage One: The Stall.
Rome made a quick call to a hungover Liam, asking his cherished love to convince Simon that he had to stay at their penthouse downtown for a couple of days because of a broken water heater at Pierce’s. Liam and Simon had already grown close, making this a comfortable arrangement, and it would put Simon close to Music Hall if he needed to go to work. That at least bought me some time as Edward delivered Simon’s violin and another selection of clothes to him for his stay. I hoped Simon would need to remain with Rome and Liam only a night or two.
Stage Two: Movers
While on the plane ride home from Charlotte, Sebastian hopped on the phone to rustle up some movers who could take all the furniture and decor out of the largest room in my house and place it in short-term storage. I didn’t know what I’d do with any of it, but that was future me’s problem.
Stage Three: The Designer
At the same time, Declan was on the phone with his shopper. While she argued that her expertise was in keeping Declan and his family in fashion, that woman had also decked out Joy’s nursery in a stunning jungle theme. I needed her to work her magic on what I hoped would become Simon’s sanctuary.
Stage Four: Controlling Chaos
My job was to coordinate all these people coming and going in my house with my housekeeper while shopping for the centerpieces of Simon’s new room. Normally, it would take me months of searching and comparing, but I told myself that if I found something better later, I could always upgrade it for Simon. There was no time to waste. The longer we were apart, the more Simon was hurting.
After two incredibly long days of people coming and going in my house, the dust had settled and the gift was ready. Now I could only wonder if it was enough. Should I have done more? Gone grander?
Yet, when Edward brought him home, all I could do was stand on the front step wearing the suit I knew he loved me best in, trying not to wring my hands.
The little devil flashed me a smirk as he stepped out of the car, not even waiting for Edward to open the door for him.
“I can’t stay,” he announced, and my heart plummeted into my stomach. My despair must have shown on my face, because he hurried across the short distance that separated us and grabbed my arms. “No! No! I don’t mean it like that. I have a performance tonight. If I’m not at Music Hall in a couple of hours, the maestro will have a heart attack.”
I pressed my forehead to his and sucked in a steadying breath. He smiled, his bright-blue eyes shining with an inner joy that soothed my soul in ways I was only beginning to understand.
“Parker, Liam, and Byron told me about the whole grand gesture bit,” Simon whispered. “You know that it’s completely unnecessary, right? I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, and I always will be.”
“It’s necessary, Simon—not because I think it will win your heart, but because I need to show you how important you are to me.” I straightened, and my gaze fell on the red-and-gray scarf looped behind his neck. My scarf. Ever since I’d bundled it around him, he always wore it when he stepped outside. He’d kept a little piece of me with him.
“You know you’re never getting this back,” he taunted even as he seductively ran his hand along it.
“I don’t want it back. I was just thinking that I enjoy knowing that something of me is always with you.”
The winter wind picked up, and I shivered. Simon grabbed my hand and yanked me to the house. “I’m keeping your scarf and gloves, but I am going out this weekend to get you some new ones. No more of you freezing your ass off.”