"Holy f.u.c.k," Rob blurts behind me and the door shuts. His eyes ping across the king-size bed wrapped in a fluffy comforter and pillows. The drapes are open, casting the view of Cleveland and the Cuyahoga River. I plop down on one of the sofas and slip off my heels.

"My feet are killing me." I rest one up on the edge of the couch and gently rub my toes.

"Are the heels worth it?" He sits down next to me on the edge of the seat as though he's worried he'll crinkle the fabric or something.

"Relax."

He sits back, swinging my legs across his lap. "This room is nice, really nice." His eyes survey every surface. "Don't get me wrong, my parents do well, but not this well."

His hands kneed into my arch and my head falls back into the pillow. "It was always odd. Coming home after a trip with my dad. Going from this to a two-bedroom apartment with second-hand furniture."

"It must have been like Cinderella being knocked back down to peasant." His hands continue to manipulate my feet in the best way.

"Yeah. I guess I just got used to it. My dad used to get on my mom about the living conditions, even bought her a house once."

"That's nice."

"Made the mistake of putting it in her name. It was sold within a month." That's when she was using. I think she secretly hoped my dad bought it for all of us, like we would be a family.

"G.o.d, Paige. I'm sorry. You had such a c.r.a.ppy childhood."

I shrug my shoulders. "My time is up with her, but there's Matty to consider. I'm not sure how much longer I can trust her with him." I wiggle as his thumbs dig deep into my tissue.

"Neither of his parents seems very fit. At least you had your dad."

"Yeah, but I can't take care of Matty right now. I don't have the money or the stability." I have three years before my trust fund is released, but I'm not about to reveal that to Rob yet. Of course, he may very well a.s.sume I have one. I guess how could he not? But still, the pit of my stomach churns from keeping a secret.

"I'll help you figure something out. If you really want to take him, I'll help." My eyes must bug out because he chuckles.

"He's a pretty awesome kid," he remarks, his fingers inching up past my ankles. His hands weave between my legs, parting them to make s.p.a.ce for him.

His eyes flick to desire, never leaving mine, while his fingers unbuckle my pants and he tugs the zipper down at crazy slow pace. A lump forms in my throat, holding back the tears from his transparent eyes, revealing another emotion today. There's want in them, but it's laced with tenderness, too.

There's a silent agreement like his bedroom this afternoon. Although part of me wishes he'd come out with it, fear is too great of a deterrent. That those three words that float around us on this plush couch in this elaborate decor room, could crush us.

If this relationship doesn't reach happily ever after, the crash will be like a plane falling from the sky at fifty thousand feet. So, even though I'd love to hear him tell me those three words, I'm just not ready yet. Then again, my heart is so invested, I'm not sure it matters.

"Baby, you with me?" he asks, hooking his hands on either side of my pants.

Coming back into the moment. "Hard not to be." He doesn't need to hear the ramblings of my odd thinking.

"Good, because I want you to watch me." He longingly stares up at me through his hooded eyes.

My tongue snakes out of my mouth and licks my lips as I lift my hips so he can pull my jeans and panties down my legs.

They fall to the ground and his eyes meet mine to make sure I'm following his directions. His hand slides up my bare leg and props it over the side of the couch.

Every time he peeks up to double-check that I'm still watching, I get wetter. His arms snake up my chest, both hands plucking down the cups of my bra. When his thumbs circle around my nipple, I buck up and he kisses my stomach.

"Almost," he mumbles.

My eyes are glued to his path down to my center. Not waiting, his tongue swirls around my c.l.i.t and I force my eyes to stay open. The more tingles are shooting to my nerve endings, the more my eyelids lose the battle.

Placing his hands on my thighs, he widens me up for him and his tongue flicks fast up and down, around my c.l.i.t. I buck against his face and my hands dig into his spiky black strands.

"Pull it." He lifts his head for a second to make sure I heard his demand. He groans when I yank harder on his hair.

As his mouth circles around my nub, spurring the nerve cells to frantically race around, his finger thrusts inside of me and I buck up. My fingers drop to the sides of the couch cushions as I clench harder to keep from coming. His mouth working magic, his hot breath tickles the wetness he's induced. I wiggle under his firm hold on my thighs and his lapping tongue. Unable to get a better angle, his hands reach under my legs, and tugs my a.s.s so his face is buried between my thighs.

Not letting me go, he manipulates me until my o.r.g.a.s.m reaches the highest point. I scream his name while little bursts of energy ping over and over again.

Rob slowly brings me down like he always does, his finger inserting again as his thumb rubs my c.l.i.t increasingly getting slower and slower until he leaves my body.

After my breathing calms, he inches over me and claims my mouth, enabling me to taste myself. He sits back on his heels, bringing me up in his arms with him.

Without any words, he picks me up and carries me over to the bed where he lays me down. I watch him shed his pants and boxers and then climb the bed to reach me. "I have to do that more often, your whimpers and cries made me crazy. I need to get inside of you now."

I LAY IN the bed, completely exhausted from Rob. Not that I'm complaining. I haven't had a ton of partners in my life, but Rob has surpa.s.sed them all. Of course, it does cross my mind how many girls he's had practice on.

The bed springs down and up with Rob's naked body jumping in next to me. "Testing out the springs?" I ask and he laughs, slithering under the covers.

"You never know with these fancy hotels." He kisses my cheek and crawls in next to me. "They might cheat you on the mattress."

"I doubt that. I think you may have wanted to just bounce on the bed." I snuggle into his body. He spoons me and wraps his arm around me.

"Are you tired?" he whispers in my ear and then kisses my neck. Who would guess, Rob is a cuddler.

"A little, but I'm not ready to say goodnight."

"Me either." His arms tighten around me. "I hate to go back to the real world."

"Thank you," I graciously express, finding his hands and squeezing them.

"For what?" He honestly sounds confused.

"For not asking me a zillion questions about my dad. Acting like you met a dad who bowls and drinks pitchers of beer on Friday nights."

"Your dad doesn't bowl?" He laughs and I join in as I imagine my dad sporting a bowling shirt, strolling in with a bowling bag. He would never be part of something so normal. "Man, I hoped he could join our league."

I know he's joking, sometimes it's hard to keep Rob serious, but I want him to know how much it means to me. So I twist around, and hold his face in my hands. "I'd love to babe, but you've done the unmanageable. You wore me out." He smirks, his hands venturing down to squeeze my a.s.s. Keeping up with his kidding side.

"It doesn't feel that way." The blood must be pumping because he's already halfway up. Our eyes lock and his smile drops. "Rob."

He quiets down, his palms grazing up my ribcage and across my back. "What?" A fear flashes in his eyes. It's one of only a handful of times I've seen Rob so vulnerable.

"I know how excited you were when you saw my dad and his band, but the fact you acted so indifferent. As though it didn't bother you one way or the other. I've never had that before, not even with a friend."

He locks his arms around my body, scooting me up with his hips so that I'm completely on top of him. "I have to admit, I almost p.i.s.sed myself when you told me. I mean a little bit of warning would have been nice. But, as sh.e.l.l-shocked as I am that your dad is Greg Thompson, it has nothing to do with you."

"Now you know all my secrets."

"And why you love your cla.s.sic rock music." I laugh and nod. "What about your singing voice?"

"Lessons." I shrug my shoulders and roll my eyes.

"d.a.m.n good ones. But I'd take you with a squeaky singing voice and a b.u.m father any day." He winks with a sly smirk.

I bend down and kiss his lips, and he rolls us over. "d.a.m.n girl," he grinds his length against me and I open my legs, ready for him. "Is it bad I don't feel guilt that your dad paid for a hotel room for us and I'm banging his daughter all night?"

I giggle and shake my head at him. "Well, he's not a saint."

I move my mouth up to his shoulder, nipping it and Rob growls. "Enough about your dad."

I smile against his skin. He completely gets me.

"OH G.o.d. WHERE'S Matty?" she screams and I bolt up in bed, searching for her.

She's rummaging on the floor for her clothes, hastily stepping into her pants. "Where is she?" The person must not answer, because the next time her voice increases another octave. "What hospital?"

I jump out of bed, stepping into my pants and throwing my shirt on. I already have my shoes on by the time she throws her phone across the room and sinks to the floor.

Running to her side, I saddle up next to her, swooping her in my arms. Sobs rip from her throat and I rock her back and forth. "What happened?" I softly ask and her arms tighten around me.

"My mom," she hiccups, trying to catch her breath. "She finally did it."

"What?" My hand brushes down her unruly curls.

Pulling back from me, her red blood-shot eyes stare right into mine. "She tried to commit suicide." My heart plummets hearing the words. Linda had appeared unstable, but I typed her as the casual drink and drug user. Maybe had a few late nights with men she didn't know, but s.h.i.t, this is more serious.

"I gotta go." She rushes to the phone and waits. "I need a cab please. I'm coming now. Thank you." She hangs up the phone.

"You aren't taking a cab; I'm driving you."

"You don't have to. She's my mom."

I break the distance between us. "And I'm your boyfriend. We don't do alone anymore, you got it?"

She draws in a deep breath and releases it. G.o.d, I forgot how good it feels to bring that peace to someone else. I've missed being a team with someone and the fact it's Paige just multiplies that elation. "Thank you. I'm sorry my life is so f.u.c.ked up."

I place my hands on her shoulders and wait for her to face me. "Never be sorry. I'm here, always."

She bursts into my arms and I hold her tight, allowing her tears to flow freely.

"Where's Matty?"

"He's at my aunt's, but I'm going to ask Chrissy to pick him up. s.h.i.t, my phone." She pulls away and jogs across the room. "f.u.c.k!" she screams, picking up her phone in two different pieces.

"I got it." I dig my phone out and dial Chrissy. When she picks up, her voice is groggy and I wonder myself what time it is. "Chris?" I glance at the clock seeing it's seven in the morning. "Can you pick up Paige's brother, Matty?"

"What's wrong?" The panic isn't hard to miss in her voice.

"Don't worry, I have it handled. Can you pick him up from Paige's aunt's and bring him back to the house?"

"No problem. Dex and I are free all day. We have it covered." I hear shuffling behind her.

"Thanks." I hold the phone to my chest.

"Paige, does she know where to go?" Her eyes shed more tears and she bites on her nails.

She only nods.

I bring the phone back up to ear. "So, you know where to go?"

"Yeah, no worries. I've been there before. Her mom?" I guess I'm not the only one who knows about Paige's mom.

"Yeah," I answer and she sighs.

"Call me when you can. If she needs me-"

"I will, promise."

We hang up and Paige darts directly to the door. She throws it open and sails right through. Before the heavy door can slam shut I jog over to catch it. I find her at the elevator, and I lightly grasp her elbow.

"Should we tell your dad?"

Her head flies up to my face.

"No. He's not going to give a s.h.i.t."

Man, where did my sweet Paige go?

"He seemed like he would last night. I'm sure he'd want to help you out."

She stops and stares right into my eyes. "Rob, my dad is the best father he can be. He pays for my education, he gives me spending money, and he loves me as much as he's capable. But he's starting tour and that comes first in his life."

I nod, remaining silent. From her stabbing and intense eyes, I'm afraid she's about to go crazy on me.

"It's not that my dad doesn't love me, he does. But I'm not number one in his life. I never have been and never will be. I made peace with that a long time ago."

The elevator dings and she steps in without another word. We ride down to the lobby and all I can think of is she should be someone's number one. Is this her demon, the fact that she comes second to everyone in her life?

As bad as my mom was last year, I never doubted her undying love for me. I'm saddened that Paige hasn't experienced that with anyone.

"Miss Thompson," The guy from the front desk raises his hand, but Paige breezes by without even a glance.

"I got her, sorry to bother you."

He nods and then watches Paige the whole time through the circular doors. Lucky for us, the parking garage is right across the street.