Page 51 of Rulebreaker

She looks beautiful in everything.

And who the fuck cares if the sequin arrangement on her leotard during her fourth outfit change foreshadows a future single?

I roll my shoulders, shake out the tension.

This is what I signed up for.

And further that,Lilycares about the outfit, along with her fans, so I can’t be too grumpy about it.

What Icanbe surly over is my family horning in on my time with her.

Yeah, it’s Sunday Dinner.

Yeah, it’s tradition.

Yeah, I value it and like spending time with them and love the fuckers and all…

But Lily finally has a solid twenty-four hours off before her final show in L.A. and I want them all to myself, want her to myself before she’s back on the road again.

But Briar is not to be denied.

Nor Frankie.

And truthfully, Lily was excited when I got the text from Briar demanding a specific bottle of wine to go with her roast, and…I wouldn’t deny her this.

Wouldn’t deny her anything.

Plus, this is her life, and she’s alone too much–well, alone aside from the people who work for her…but more than that, I know how close to the edge I was without Banks and Dash, Royal and Briar, without…Colt.

I don’t want that for Lily.

So, here we are.

Sunday Dinner. Two empty bottles of my expensive wine on the counter. A thick, fudgy chocolate pie with homemade whipped cream and chocolate curls that Lily spent several hours perfecting. Maybe I should be grumpy aboutthatbecause it was more hours away that weren’t solely mine, especially when it came to those chocolate curls. But I got to be her official taste-tester–and that pie is fucking delicious–and I got to sit in the kitchen with her and glean a few more details about her.

She’s a coffee addict.

She loves trash TV.

She works to obsession, is a perfectionist (circle back to theprecise chocolate curls adorning the pie), and yet is quick to smile, to tease, to poke fun at herself.

And she’s kind.

I knew a lot of that before.

But I’ve never been with her before when she talked about visiting a children’s hospital, never brushed her tears away when she recalled a favorite patient passing, never got to hold her as she pulled herself together.

And I never saw how much she truly cared about her fans, about her work–not until I sat across from her at my desk, both of us furiously typing, calls coming rapidly, decisions needing to be made in an instant, people trying to pull us both in a hundred different directions.

Succeeding sometimes–hence me being a grumpy ass.

But coming right back together, finding each other again through a quick text, a quiet word…a scorching kiss that led to me shoving our laptops to the side and fucking her right there on my desk.

Yeah, I’ll hold that memory close too.

Especially as Lily–the latest loser in Frankie’s Connect Four tournament–steps close to my side, all lush curves and feminine scent.

Hold that memory close.