When the woman’s hand drifts to Killian’s butt, I stand, knocking into the table. Drinks slosh, the table screeches.

“Excuse me,” I mutter to Brenna, who wisely scrambles out of my way.

My exit from the table is far from graceful, more like a bulldozer pushing everything out of its way. And Killian’s head jerks up, his eyes finding mine. A worried look works across his face.

I can only stare back, drinking in the sight of him.

His dark hair, cropped close to his well-shaped skull, highlights the sharp curve of his cheek bones, the slashes of his brows, and the soft curl of his lips. He is a beautiful man. Dressed in a black button-down shirt and black slacks, he also looks nothing like the man I found drunk on my lawn. Here, he is the slick millionaire, the effortlessly cool rocker, an untouchable idol everyone wants a piece of.

People surround him, a wall of human flesh between him and me. I ignore it all. This isn’t what’s real.

His frown grows as I walk, my steps determined. Inside, my heart is pounding. I don’t know what he sees in my face, but his careful expression shatters. Dark eyes fill with purpose, his body standing taller. He excuses himself and moves, liquid grace, powerful strides.

I start to shake, deep within me. Desire I can handle. But the emotion in his face, as if he knows—he knows—I’m breaking apart, and he is too, blurs my vision. I blink twice and go to him, shouldering people aside.

He meets me halfway, stopping before me, his height blocking out everything around us. He gazes down at me, searching my face. “Elly May?”

My head tilts back to meet his gaze. “Lawn bum.” I reach up, cup his cheek, sandy with stubble, and tug him close. Our lips meet, his questioning, mine demanding. And then he lets out a low sound, like a sigh, but rougher, needy. His arms wrap around me, hauling my body against his as he angles his head and sinks into a kiss that takes the strength from my knees. But Killian has me secure.

There, on the dance floor, we kiss, and it’s messy, dirty, and filled with silent confessions: I’m sorry. I know. I need you. I need you more.

When we finally pull back, his lips curve in a half smile, and his fingers lace with mine. “All right, then.”

I touch his cheek again. “I adore you, Killian James. Whatever may come of it, I’m no longer willing to hide you away like you’re something to be ashamed of. Everyone should know that.”

His smile grows, and he rests his forehead on mine. “Pretty sure everyone does now.”

I snuggle into his embrace. “Good. Then I won’t have to take out an ad.”

A half-laugh rumbles out of him. His hand slides up to my neck and gives me a squeeze. I close my eyes.

“Time to go,” he whispers. “Before I take you right here.”

I can’t stop grinning. “Move your things to my room. Or I’ll move to yours.”

“Baby doll.” He kisses me again, softly this time, then presses his cheek to mine. “I do, too, you know. So much it hurts.”

“Are you two done?”

Jax’s irritated tone erases our glow in an instant. Killian straightens to his full height and turns. Jax’s look of utter disgust actually hurts to see. I’m not sure I even like the guy, but he’s Killian’s closest friend and important to him.

“Yeah,” Killian says slowly, ice in his voice. “We’re done.”

Jax snorts. “I fucking knew it. Thinking with your dick.”

I twitch, and Killian’s grip on my hand firms as he pulls me closer to his side.

The room stirs, and I realize Brenna and Scottie are directing people out. Bouncers do a great job of helping them clear the room in what seems like seconds.

“Jax, man,” Killian says. “Don’t go there.”

“Why not? We’re all thinking it.”

Whip draws near. “We’re not all thinking that.”

“Definitely not what I’m thinking,” Rye adds. “About time, is more like it.” He gives me a happy smile. “No more swallowing goats.”

“No,” I say, giving him a small smile back.

The rest of the guys are clearly confused by that one.

But Jax snorts. “And yet you all know exactly what I’m thinking.”

“Why don’t you lay it out for me?” Killian asks. There is a silky, dark note in his voice that I’ve never heard before. A definite warning.

Jax either doesn’t hear it or doesn’t care. “If you wanted your side piece to come on tour, you should have just said so. You didn’t have to drag her on stage and mess with the band.”

Killian sucks in a sharp breath and lets it out slowly. “I’m not gonna hit you,” he finally says. “You deserve it. But I’m not. Get this now. That is the last time you disrespect Libby. You got me?”

Jax glances at me, and for a second I see a wince of regret, then it’s gone. “You disrespected yourself,” he says, “hiding and pretending this was about performing.”

“You’re right,” I say before Killian can respond. “Which is why I’m no longer hiding.”

“But you’re still going to pretend like you belong here?”

Okay, that hurt.

Killian snarls, taking a step toward Jax. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem? You fucking lied. To all of us.”

“Dude,” Rye says, shaking his head at Jax. “It was obvious they were together.”

“Seriously. Take your head out of your ass, man,” Whip adds, giving Killian a cheeky smile. “I knew he was gone on her the moment he started waxing lyrical about her voice. And it’s not like they’re very good at hiding those moony looks they keep throwing each other.”

Killian’s eyes narrow. “You knew and you were going to ask her out?”

“Naw, I was just fucking with you, Big K. You should have seen your face. I thought you were going to bust something.” Whip laughs.

“I was about to bust your face,” Killian mutters, but he doesn’t look truly pissed. Not at Whip, anyway. He sets his attention back on Jax. “You used to be better than this.”

“And you used to be straight with me.”

Killian’s brows lift. “You get the hypocrisy you’re throwing my way, right?”

The corners of Jax’s mouth go white. “Nice.”