“I believe you. I was just curious.”

“What about you?” His eyebrows scrunch together. “Does it say in there if you wanted other guys? Were you bored with me?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? I want to know if you ever thought that.”

“Honestly, every time you’re mentioned it’s about how amazing you are. When I first started reading these, I thought it was just crazy puppy love, and eventually there’d be some entries about what a jerk you are sometimes, but so far, nope.”

He flashes a smile that’s a mix of relief and cockiness. “I told ya.”

“I also wrote that I was a little depressed. Apparently, this is right after the first Sugar Kiss tour. It says I felt like something bad was going to happen.”

Running his hand up my leg to gently squeeze my calf, he frowns with concern. “You never told me that. Why were you depressed?”

“It doesn’t say a lot about why. It sounds like I felt inferior around the other girls in the band. Like I wasn’t pretty enough. And that people were saying the band was only successful because I was married to you, and because it was an all-female band.” I hold the book out to him. “Do you want to read it? It might make more sense to you since you were there.”

“No…it’s private. I can’t read your diaries.”

“But I’m telling you what it says anyway, and I’m giving you permission.”

“That’s different. No one should read your diary except you.”

He crawls up the length of the couch and lies between my body and the cushions, half on top of me, wrapping his arm around my waist. “I had no idea you felt insecure about your looks. You’ve always been beautiful.” He kisses my shoulder. “I wish you’d told me. I would’ve shown you over and over how gorgeous you are.”

I touch his hair, gently weaving my fingers through the soft silkiness. “Being with you is a little intimidating. You’re a good-looking guy, and you have this very magnetic aura about you that people—especially women—are drawn to. You’re sweet and easy to talk to. I haven’t seen women come on to you in person yet, but I see it on the concert videos, and it does make me a little bit jealous and insecure.”

“You watch videos of me?” he asks, surprised.

Smiling, I skate my fingernails over his scalp. “A few times a week. I like watching you sing and perform in front of all those people. You look so wild and confident.”

His face lights up. “You really like watching me now?”

The time when I didn’t feel comfortable about him as my husband or him being a rock star seems like eons ago.

“That.” I peek at him. “And…I don’t even know how to say this…” My cheeks heat up with shyness. “You’re just…”

God. How do I even describe how he makes me feel? I’m still overwhelmed with the unexpected attraction I have to him.

His lips morph into that slow, impish grin that turns my insides completely upside down. “C’mon, just say it.”

“You’re just really sexy and sensually captivating.” I try to suppress a silly smile. “And I love your voice, the way you kinda growl…and when you sing the softer love songs, there’s just so much emotion in your voice and in your eyes. It gives me chills.” I take a breath, getting lost in the way he’s looking at me right now, like he wants to gobble me up. “I get the butterfly thing now. I totally understand it. Every time I look at you, my insides go nuts.”

“You can look at me all you want.” His voice takes on his deep, sensual tone as he leans up on his arms and lowers his face to mine. “I’m all yours.”

His lips are warm and full on mine, and his words are making my heart pound with love for him.

I’m all yours.

Little by little, the dreamlike haze I’ve been in since I came out of the coma has been fading. Reality has been gradually taking over.

This man is my husband. Mine.

This house, this life, is mine.

These cozy nights spent cuddling on the couch are mine.

He caresses my cheek, slides his thumb across my lips. “Every single love song? I sang for you.” Pure want and love darken his eyes as he watches his finger move across my lips. “I’ve written ten songs since you came back. All about you, how you make me feel.” His voice shakes and rasps with emotion. “How I’ve fallen in love with you all over again.”

I slide my hands over his shoulders and link them behind his neck. I’m barely able to breathe as I stare up into his eyes.

“Have you?” I whisper.

“I have.”

Asher has this ability to whisk me away. He’s like a magic carpet, carrying us away to a place where only we exist. Nothing else matters. Not the past, not the future, not our tragedies. Just now and us.