Bewildered as fuck, my gaze bounces between them. “Who the hell is Landon?”

“Landon Parker,” they both shout like a couple of schoolgirls.

I blink. “That really clears things up.”

Dylan lets out a groan of frustration. “Landon Parker is this incredibly talented musician. He mostly sings alternative rock, but his voice, along with his piano and guitar skills are so mind-blowing he could sing anything and people would go crazy.” She grins. “Anyway, he’s total indie and not into any of the skeevy shit that comes with stardom because he doesn’t want to be a sellout or have some pop record label turn him into something he isn’t.”

“Can you get to the point?” I urge because she’s starting to bore me.

She slaps my arm. “I am.” She blows out a breath. “Anyhow, I reached out to him about becoming his manager and eventually when I open up my indie label, having him come on board. We met a few times, and we’re this—” She moves her thumb and pointer finger centimeters apart. “Close to making it official.”

“That’s awesome,” I tell her.

Even though I don’t know shit about rock music, I know she’s always wanted to manage artists and open her own record label. It’s cool as shit watching her dreams come true.

“I’m really proud of you.”

She beams. “Thanks, but that’s still not the point.”

And she’s lost me again.

“Anyway, he’s working on finishing his upcoming album, but he’s stuck on the last two songs and has some writer’s block.”

I gesture for her to cut to the chase. “Okay, and?”

She points to my notebook. “You can help him. Hell, you guys could sit down and create epic music together.”

The look I shoot her conveys exactly what I think about that.

“Yeah…no.”

Her jaw drops. “What do you mean no?”

I flash her some teeth. “No, thank you?”

She grabs me by the shoulders. “Oakley, do you understand that this opportunity might change your life?” Desperation flickers in her eyes. “I know you don’t believe in yourself, but I do.”

“Me too,” Sawyer adds.

It’s not that I’m ungrateful for their support, it’s just…I don’t fucking know.

This shit is foreign as hell to me. Plus, songwriting sounds like it requires a lot of concentration and focus. Not to mention skill.

Three things I’ve always lacked.

Hell, I flunked out of my first senior year of high school, and if it wasn’t for Sawyer tutoring me, I would have flunked my second attempt too.

“Look, I appreciate the offer, really, I do. But I don’t know the first thing about writing songs.”

It’s best I stick to the only shit I’m good at.

Sweeping and mopping floors.

Dylan’s disappointment is palpable. “Okay, but if you ever change your mind—”

“I won’t.”

I can tell she wants to argue, but fortunately she drops it.

I swivel my gaze around my apartment. “This visit was nice and all, but I want to get to the gym before it closes.”

Sawyer and Dylan exchange a glance.

“I think that’s his way of giving us the boot,” Sawyer states.

Dylan wraps her arms around me. “I love you, Oak.”

I return her hug. “Love you, too.”

I start to back away, but she grabs my cheeks. “I didn’t say it before, but I’m really proud of you. And if you ever need anything, please call me. I don’t care what time it is. I don’t ever want you to feel like you don’t have me, okay? I’ll always be there for you.”

Well, shit.

The muscles in my chest draw tight. Dylan and C.J. were the only good things to come out of my father’s marriage with Crystal.

“I know.”

After smacking a kiss on my cheek, Dylan ambles to the door.

Next thing I know, Sawyer is wrapping her arms around me.

Now I’m convinced they put something in that chicken because these girls are way too goddamn sappy.

“You have to stop looking at me like that,” Sawyer whispers against my chest.

“Like what?”

“Like you broke me.” Her eyes are glassy when she looks up at me. “I chose to take the Adderall, remember?”

And I chose to give them to you.

It’s something I’ll never absolve myself for.

I want to rub away the knot of blame forming in my chest, but Sawyer won’t let me go.

“No one in the world is perfect, Oak. We all make mistakes. The important thing is that you learn from them.”

“I know.”

Holy hell do I fucking know. I’m reminded of all my mistakes every single fucking day.

“Love you,” she utters before unhinging herself from me.

“Love you too, short stack.”

Shortly after they leave, I realize my notebook is missing.

Chapter 30

Bianca

A silky feather-light touch gliding down my body has my eyes fluttering open against the sunlight.

“Morning,” Stone whispers next to me in his bed.

When I look down, I notice my t-shirt is pushed up past my breasts and he’s sliding a single red rose down my torso. “Good morning.” I gesture to the rose. “What’s the special occasion?”

He smiles from ear to ear. “You go wedding dress shopping today, silly.”

Oh…right.

He plants a soft kiss on the inside of my thigh. “I got you some breakfast.” He gestures to the nightstand. “It’s your favorite.”

When I glance over, I notice a glass of orange juice along with a blueberry muffin.

I don’t inform him that banana nut muffins are actually my favorite because the gesture was incredibly sweet.

“Thank yo—” I start to say but he moves my panties to the side, exposing me. “What are you doing?”

He licks two of his fingers. “I want you to enjoy your breakfast.” My nipples pucker when he slips his now wet fingers inside me. “While I enjoy mine.”

For the first time in a long time, genuine arousal for him courses through me.

“Screw the breakfast,” I breathe when he starts moving his fingers. “Don’t stop.”

“I can’t wait to marry you,” he murmurs as he picks up his pace. “I can’t wait to fuck this tight pussy every night for the rest of my life.”

Holy shit. Stone never talks dirty.

I always wished he would, but I lost hope when it became clear he was never going to utter anything more than, ‘you feel so good’ during sex.

But now?

It’s like I woke up in an alternate universe because everything feels right between us again.

“Tell me more,” I urge as I clutch the bedsheets. “Tell me every dirty thing on your mind.”

“You feel so good,” he rasps. “Like a dream.”

Ugh.

“What else?”

He circles my clit and I swear I see stars. My orgasm is a mere heartbeat away. “Your pussy—”