Noah and Chelsea moving, however, meant that Annabelle would be moving with them.

Motherfucking hell.

I lifted my beer to my lips and swallowed the rest of its contents in one gulp before reaching for another on the small table between the couch and the old musky love seat that I was sitting on with Devlin.

Liam’s brows lifted but after a few seconds he shrugged. “Huh. Well, good luck, dude. I’m gonna miss you.”

“Thanks,” Noah muttered and turned his gaze toward the ceiling. He was quiet for several minutes before he let out a forced laugh and sat up a little straighter. “I want to be there when you guys audition my replacement.”

“Don’t do that to yourself, man.” Devlin sat forward on the loveseat and grabbed another beer. “No one wants to see who’s replacing them on any level.”

“Nah, it’ll be okay. It will make me feel better about leaving you fuckers. I want to make sure that whoever takes over for me will get you where you deserve to be.” His smile this time wasn’t nearly as forced as it had been. “Don’t want some idiot wannabe bringing down my boys.”

We waited until the last song that night before Noah made the announcement that it was going to be his last show at Floyd’s. We had a pretty big following from the surrounding area and no one was happy about Noah’s news. Several chicks in the front row started crying, until he told them that he was going country solo. That had a few of them drying their tears, but not many.

I gritted my teeth as we left the stage after the last song. I wanted to get as far away from Floyd’s Bar and my band-brothers as fast as possible. My fucking mind felt like it was bouncing around in my skull and all I wanted was the sweet peace that only one person could bring me.

I didn’t even wait to see if Devlin was going to get a ride home with one of the others before I was jogging out to my truck and burning rubber as I backed out of the parking lot. I drove over the speed limit and kept twisting the knob on the radio even as I tried to fight my OCD not to do it fourteen times while the fingers of my other hand tapped over and over again on the steering wheel. Fourteen. Fourteen. Four-fucking-teen.

I didn’t know why I was stuck on the number fourteen. I couldn’t remember why it was so important, but my brain was obsessed with it. I was starting to hate that damn number and how it was destroying my life.

By the time I pulled into the parking lot of the garage, I hadn’t calmed down any. Jerking open the door of my truck, I jumped out and slammed it behind me. Taking the steps up to the apartment two at a time, I tried to think of something—fucking anything—other than the taste of Annabelle’s lips earlier that afternoon.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Motherfucking sonofabitch.

Fuck.

I reached the top of the steps and lifted my fist to knock, but the door opened before I could. Annabelle stood on the other side of the doorway, her long pale blond hair tousled, her sleep clothes rumpled and her eyes a mixture of sleepy and worried. “What’s wrong?” she demanded as soon as she saw my face. “What is it?”

Stepping through the door, she grasped my arms, pulling me easily across the threshold into the apartment. “Z, you’re scaring me. You’re shaking.”

I pulled my arms free and wrapped them around her. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My voice was locked in my throat from the boulder of emotion blocking its exit. Instead I pulled her against me as tight as I could get her and buried my face in her sweet-smelling hair.

Having her that close, being able to touch the only thing that mattered to me, made it easier to breathe and I sucked in one deep gulp of air after another for the first time all night. Tears of relief stung my eyes and I kept my face in her hair until I could control myself, not wanting her to see my weakness.

Soft fingers trailed up my back under my old T-shirt and stroked up and down my spine. I let out a shuddery breath and kissed the shell of her ear. “Sorry,” I got out in a voice still rough with the emotions still churning through me. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Are you okay?” she murmured softly.

“Better now,” I assured her and, with my arms still wrapped tightly around her, lifted her a few inches off the floor so I could carry her to the couch.

I dropped down onto the old piece of furniture and pulled her across my lap, wishing to God and anyone else who was willing to listen to my silent prayer just then, that I could keep her like that for the rest of my life. Things were changing way too fast and I wasn’t able to keep up. I was losing Annabelle with every passing second, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it. Soon she would be in Nashville and I would be who knew where. I just wanted to hit pause on everything, holding her and soaking up every moment of having her in my arms.

Her fingers stroked through my hair as she held my head against her chest. The feel of her soft hands, the soothing strokes as she combed my hair back from my face, and simply having her in my arms, were slowly calming all the noise in my head to a soft murmur and I was able to think clearly once again. Finally I lifted my head and met her concerned blue gaze.

“Hi,” she whispered softly with a small smile.

“Hi, baby.”

“Want to talk about it?”

I shook my head. I didn’t even know where to begin to start and even if I did I couldn’t have voiced the craziness that was eating up what was left of my sanity. As if she understood all of that and was okay with it she lowered her head to my chest, but continued to stroke her fingers through my hair. “Okay.”

We sat there like that for at least an hour. Neither of us spoke, neither one so much as moved except for her fingers through my hair. It was only when she fought back a yawn that I realized I’d woken her up, acting like the crazy man that I was.

“You should go back to bed,” I muttered, thinking about her and pushing down my need to hold onto her and the last thread of sanity I still had.

“I won’t sleep if I do. I’d just lie there thinking about you.” She lifted her head and met my gaze. “Don’t send me away, Z. I’m happy where I am.”

Fuck, she knew how to gut me. “I’m not going to send you anywhere you don’t want to go.” I glanced down at the old couch we were sitting on. Figuring it was long enough and wide enough for us both, I kicked off my boots and positioned us so that she was lying in front of me. I kept her back to my front and reached for the remote that was in its usual spot on the arm of the couch.

I promised myself I’d only stay for a little while. I just wanted to hold her for a few more minutes.

Turning the television on, I found a channel that wasn’t stupid infomercials before lying back. There was an older afghan that Chelsea had brought over and left a few months before and I pulled it off the back of the couch and over the both of us. Annabelle snuggled back against me, making my body throb from wanting her, but I just gritted my teeth and kissed the back of her head.

Just a few more minutes, but I knew I was lying to myself. I couldn’t bring myself to leave her. Would I ever get enough of this?

No. Never.

Within minutes her breathing evened out and I knew she was asleep. Soon my own eyes began to drift closed, but I didn’t fight it. I kissed the top of her head again and I let sleep claim me…

The high-pitched cackle of a cartoon witch jerked me awake the next morning. My eyes snapped open and for a few seconds I didn’t recognize where I was. Then the warm body wrapped around my own shifted and I breathed a little easier when I realized I’d fallen asleep holding Annabelle. My body instantly woke up and I had to bite back a groan as her thigh brushed over my throbbing hard-on.