Her sister turned off her phone, gave Molly her full attention. “Have you spoken to him about it?”

“We fought about it after Sydney, but I haven’t brought it up since.”

Thea shook her head. “Do it, Molly. Otherwise, he’ll end up hurting you without knowing it, and you’ll become angry and resentful.” She held up a hand when Molly would’ve spoken. “I’ve worked in this industry for a decade and the couples that make it are the ones who have no secrets. Because even a tiny thing can act like a grain of sand against skin, rubbing and rubbing until it makes you bleed.”

Two days later, Thea’s words circled in Molly’s mind as she sat at home watching the live broadcast of a prime-time show: Schoolboy Choir was currently being interviewed by the witty, likeable host. The host’s questions—which the guys were handling without problem, shooting back good-humored retorts—weren’t what had Molly’s nerves taut. That came courtesy of the other guest, a tall, curvy blonde in a dramatic, figure-hugging dress of deep blood-orange.

A major recording star in her own right, Carina had sung a chart-topping duet with Fox for Schoolboy Choir’s most recent album, the rock ballad as hard as it was romantic. Molly had loved it. Until now. It only took her a couple of minutes into the interview to realize the other woman was intelligent as well as talented and physically blessed. She’d also clearly not been faking her enjoyment of the sultry kiss she’d shared with Fox in the music video for the song.

Molly would’ve had to have been blind to miss the flirtatious invitations Carina was sending Fox’s way. And it wasn’t just her imagination or jealous paranoia. The show had a tweet stream running along the bottom of the screen and the majority of the tweets had to do with the chemistry between Fox and Carina. Whoever was choosing the tweets to display had picked relatively tame messages, as opposed to the more sexually charged ones Molly knew had to be flooding the site, but that didn’t matter.

So shipping Carina and Fox. #perfectcouple

She is totally hot for him. Love it!

OMG, most beautiful couple or what?

We saw it first! Foxina 4ever!

Molly’s stomach knotted further with each second that passed. No one, she thought, seemed to remember that Fox had been spotted with a different woman in New York, Molly forgotten in the blink of an eye. The only thing that kept her from throwing something at the television screen was that no matter what the viewers believed, Fox wasn’t returning the signals. And Molly knew every one of his signals intimately.

Forcing herself to breathe, she consciously relaxed her death grip on the cushion she’d hugged to her chest. Fox couldn’t help it if he drew women like flies. The only way Molly would survive this relationship was if she trusted in their bond. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be a little irrational though.”

 Decision made, she put a piece of duct tape along the bottom of the screen so she couldn’t see the tweet stream, and muted the TV every time Carina opened her mouth. The interview was suddenly enjoyable—enough that she didn’t mute Carina’s part in the live performance of the duet—but when the woman got too close to Fox, as if to recreate their kiss, she did throw the remote at the television.

Justifiable, she rationalized, just as Fox—strumming an electric guitar—smoothly deflected the attempt by leaning into Noah for an off-the-cuff jam session that had the audience rioting in their seats. In the interim, Abe grabbed Carina as if stealing her away. By this stage, the audience was wild, and they stayed that way as the host yelled out a good-bye message, the credits beginning to roll across the bottom third of the screen.

Molly didn’t think, didn’t give herself time to second-guess her emotions. Picking up her phone, she sent a message to Fox. You were amazing. Smooth moves with a certain Miss Touchy-Feely.

The response came quicker than she’d expected. She’d figured the audience had to be swarming the men for photos and autographs. I thought so. Just so you know—these brownie points equal more ropes.

Molly’s teeth sank into her lower lip. Promises, promises, she sent, a deep happiness inside her at the unmistakable sign that though he’d just been publicly hit on by a superstar, he was thinking about her. By the way, don’t take off your T-shirt even if a fan wants it.

Yes, Molly.

When his car purred into the drive an hour and a half later, exactly when he’d predicted he’d be home, a smile broke out over her face. Running downstairs, she opened the internal door to the garage and watched him park the Aventador, jumping into his arms as soon as he stepped out, her legs wrapping around his waist. “Hi.”

A slow smile that was so real it stole her breath. “Hi, yourself, Miss Molly. I think you missed me.”

Since the day she’d first understood she came last in her parents’ lives, Molly had been protecting herself. Charlotte alone had broken through, but much as she loved her best friend, it was nothing as terrifying and as beautiful as what she felt for Fox. And her rock star needed to know that, needed to see she was in this for the long haul.

“Yes,” she said, not hiding any of her emotions, though the exposure made her pulse stammer, her throat go dry. “You’ve been gone all day.”

A hot tangle of a kiss, one of Fox’s hands at her nape, the other under her butt. “I missed my Molly-time, too.”

They just cuddled there for a minute before Fox turned to place her on the hood of the car. Pushing her down gently until she lay on her back on the metal, her feet on the ground in front of the low-slung vehicle, he ripped off his T-shirt. “So, I’m not allowed to be shirtless when I take photos with fans?”

Molly shook her head. “No. I hate it when other women touch you.” He couldn’t totally stop that, but at least this way, they wouldn’t be touching his skin beyond the arm.

Leaning down, one hand on her breast, he suckled her upper lip into his mouth, his smile unhidden. “Then you’d better have spares backstage for me,” Fox said, luxuriating in her possessiveness.

 “I will.” A firm statement, Molly watching him rise back up to his full height, her eyes following his movements as he dropped his hands to the studded black leather belt that held up his faded and ripped jeans.

 “You want me, Molly?” he asked, sliding out the belt to drop it to the garage floor.

“No.” Her fingers curled into her palms. “I think you need to come here and rev me up.”

Nudging her thighs farther apart, he undid the button on her jeans, tugged down the zipper. “Want to take back what you said?”

Molly stubbornly shook her head.

Stripping off her jeans, he settled between her legs again, so damn pleased with her that he’d play with her all night if she wanted. “Maybe it’s the car,” he said, undoing the buttons of the cardigan she wore as a top. “That’s what has you so hot.”

The fact she’d run into his arms, her need for him open and unhidden, it meant everything, his passion for her about far more than lust. He wanted to pet her, pleasure her, cherish her. “Seems like you’re getting me to do this under false pretenses.”

 “It is,” Molly said, tone breathy, “a very nice car.”

“Just for that, I’m not going to put my mouth on you.”

Molly flexed her fingers against the flawless red paintwork. “What if I ask nicely?”

“It’d have to be very, very nice indeed.” God but he fucking loved that she trusted him enough to let her body be his favorite instrument.

Shivering as he peeled apart the sides of the cardigan to bare the lace-covered mounds of her breasts, his lover said, “Please, Fox.” A feminine whisper that wrapped him in silken chains tinged blush pink with the color on her cheekbones. “Please put your mouth on me.”