“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to leave.” He brushed hair away from my face, his touch gentle. “But you can’t let anyone hold you back. Not your parents, not the band, and definitely not me. In the end, all we have are our dreams.”

“What if I don’t know what my dreams are anymore?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

I thought he would kiss me, but he turned back to the piano and started playing something. I became transfixed by the sight of his long fingers moving across the keyboard and his perfect wrists and tattooed forearms arching over it. When he started singing, his voice raspy and full of emotion, I recognized the piece as “Stay” by Rihanna. Was he singing this in response to what we’d talked about? Or was I reading too much into it?

I needed to kiss him, but his voice was so beautiful I didn’t want him to stop either. Instead, I pressed my lips to his collarbone, just above his shirt and his hidden VILLAIN tattoo. While he played, I trailed kisses along his neck, his skin humming against my mouth as he sang the chorus. I nibbled his earlobe and slid a hand along his thigh, trying to see how much of a distraction I could be. But still he kept playing.

As soon as he finished the song, he yanked me against him with a groan and pressed his mouth against mine. I moved to straddle him, my knees on either side of the piano bench, pushing my hips against his hard body. I didn’t care that anyone could walk in and see us. Knowing how wrong this was, how dangerously close to being caught we were, only made this more right. I clutched his unshaven face as we kissed, and the rough feel of his stubble against my fingertips made me wild. His hands dipped under my shirt and traced patterns along my back, sending shivers down my spine.

Now that we were finally alone, we couldn’t get enough of each other. His lips kissed down my neck like he needed to taste every inch of me, and the way he pressed his mouth against my pulse made me gasp. I tilted my head back, arching against him, digging my fingers into his shoulders. His hands smoothed up my stomach, along my ribs, inch by inch until he found my breasts. He circled my nipples through my bra, and I closed my eyes, losing myself in his touch. I couldn’t focus on anything but Jared and how badly I wanted him, without all these clothes in the way. But when I moved my hands to the button of his jeans, he stopped me.

“We can’t. Not here,” he whispered, glancing at the door.

I sighed, remembering there was another life outside of this room, outside of us. “I know.”