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“What’s in the box?” he asks, smug as hell. “Why did you need me to intercept it?”

“Are you gonna go full Seven on me if I don’t tell you?”

“No,” he says, his grin widening. “Because you are going to tell me what’s in the box that has you all flustered. I already know it’s something dirty.”

“How?”

“Because there’s a return address. And I’ve heard of this thing called Google.”

So much for the site’s discreet packaging promise.

“I’ve been dying to know,” he says, bouncing the box once on his palm. “What’d you get from a sex shop? Flavored lube? A cock ring? Please say it’s a cock ring. We need cock rings.”

I snort and drop next to him, very pointedly not looking at the box I ordered days ago, before the shitstorm happened. “Just open the damn thing. I ordered it for your private welcome back party, anyway.” The corner of my mouth twitches when he dives in.

“Ohhh, both . Flavored lube and cock rings. Look at you planning ahead.”

“Well… we’ve got four months together and you lo—”

I groan when he pulls out a sparkly black butt plug. Yeah. That . I didn't want to order one with a big ass sparkly diamond on the end, but it was the smallest one.

While I die a bit on the inside, his grin takes over his entire face. He throws one leg up over me and sits down in my lap, grinding down on me and linking his arms around my neck.

“Oh, does this mean I get to shove Mrs. Sparkles up your ass when we go out? Is that what you want? Or is it meant for me? You can do it to me first if you want. I would happily walk around all day with that thing inside when you’re in class, thinking about how good you’re gonna wreck me when you finally get home. ”

He rolls his hips down again and my hands clamp down on his waist, jaw tight.

“ Damn ,” he groans. “That is one hot visual.”

With his eyes blown wide with lust, my mortification ebbs away like it never existed.

I nudge his nose with mine and let my lips trail slowly across his, brushing, teasing.

He moans and dives back in, hungry and warm and so very him .

I feel him harden against me when his tongue slides along mine, and my hands drift lower, gripping his ass and pulling him tight into my lap.

“You can use it on me,” I murmur against his mouth when he finally lets me breathe for a second, “with one condition.”

“And what’s that condition?” he asks, licking my bottom lip before giving it a playful nip.

“That he’s called Mr. Sparkles . Not Mrs. Since I only like dudes up my ass.”

His laugh is breathless, surprised, and his eyes light up with heat and something softer, something a little more like relief. The fire’s back in them. The teasing glint, the spark I missed.

I’d take him riled up over that emptiness any day. That panic when he got here… it scared the shit out of me. And seeing it fade, seeing him come back to me, piece by piece, it’s the fucking best.

I rest my forehead against his, holding him close, like I never want to let go. Because I don’t.

“You’re okay, yeah?” I whisper. “We’re okay.”

His hands tighten on my shoulders, and he nods slowly, the tip of his nose brushing mine. “Yeah, I am now. And we are.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, I really, honestly believe it.

I find his mouth again, and just like every time since he came home, it shifts quickly. It turns slow, unhurried. Like we’re trying to mend something raw and broken with every kiss, every brush of skin. We’re not rushing. We don’t need to.

Because this isn’t about sex.

Even though he’s hard against me, grinding gently, coaxing soft moans from both of us; it’s not about getting off. It’s about being . Being here, together. Touching. Reconnecting. Finding our way back to each other, one slow press of lips at a time.

He’s here. He’s home . And we’re one damn show away from having our four months together.

My fingers trace along the back of his neck, and he exhales shakily, like the last bit of tension is finally bleeding out of him. Like the remnants of the tour—the pressure, the chaos, the loneliness—are finally melting off his skin, piece by piece, under my hands.

And I would’ve let this moment stretch. Would’ve kissed him like this forever. Would’ve stayed like this for the entire four fucking months, tangled up in him, if the universe didn’t have other plans.

“ TEN MORE MINUTES. ”

Ev’s voice bellows up the stairs, followed by the unmistakable sound of his boots stomping and a door slamming somewhere as our friends get ready downstairs.

Jace groans and drops his head to my shoulder. “I swear, that guy has a sixth sense for cockblocking.’

I chuckle into his hair. “Don’t worry. Mr. Sparkles isn’t going anywhere.”

He chuckles, warm and loose against me, and it’s the best damn sound I’ve heard all day.

“You ready for tonight?” I ask as he lifts his head to look at me.

He swallows, and I see him steeling himself, his eyes sharpening with that quiet resolve I know all too fucking well. “I have to be.”

“I’ll be right there. In the wings. Always got your back.”

He nods slowly, but his jaw tightens. “You know we’re going to run into Mick…”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.” I press our foreheads together and breathe him in. “I’m fucking counting on it.”

He shudders and slides his fingers through my hair. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being you. For being constant. For being my rock in this chaos. I couldn’t have survived this without you.”

I kiss him, so soft, so slow, so sure , and his breath hitches against my lips.

Then I murmur, “Did you call Jodie?”

He nods. “Yeah. This morning.”

Yesterday was for us. For breathing. For curling up in our own little cocoon where the outside world couldn’t touch us. But today… today is about facing shit. About fixing it. Starting with what the fuck we’re going to do about Mick. Because no one gets to lay hands on my Jace.

“The label’s cooperating,” he continues, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “More than I thought they would, honestly. Jodie looped them in right away. Apparently, Mick’s had incidents in the past like this. Stuff buried under NDAs and rehab headlines, but… it’s not a good look.”

“Damn right it’s not,” I mutter.

“They’re pulling the duet,” Jace says, smiling for real now. “We’re doing a different encore. A mashup. Something from Six of Hearts and ours. Without Mick.”

A rush of pride burns in my chest. “Fuck yes.”

“He’s benched for now. They’re having him do their show, but that’s it. The label’s not happy with him. Not at all.”

“Good,” I say, so fucking relieved, brushing my thumb under his eye. “Let him fucking sweat. You’re gonna own the stage without him.”

Jace lets out a long breath. “God, I hope so.”

I pull him closer again. “You will. You’ve got this. And I’ve got you.”

I move in to kiss him again, to feel those lips one more time. Shit I know it’s a damn addiction but—

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” There’s a loud BANG BANG BANG on the door that snaps me back. “Get your asses moving!” Ev’s voice booms from the other side, full of impatience.

Door opens. “Why the fuck are you not dressed? Do you know how minutes work? We said ten, that was fifteen minutes ago. Get up, divas.”

Jace shoots me a grin. It’s wide and full of confidence. “I guess it’s showtime.”

“Fuck yes,” I say, my heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement. “Let’s go remind the world exactly who the fuck you are.”