She laughed, then leaned over the bed to kiss me. That was all the encouragement I needed. Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her on top of me. She giggled in my mouth as we kissed, and euphoria flooded me. I did that. I made her laugh, made her feel better about today. Made her want me. She was lightly rubbing against me, quickly turning up the fire inside me, and our kiss intensified. I knew we needed to get going, but as seconds passed, reason started diminishing. She could start tomorrow, right?

Like she could hear my thoughts, or sense my growing desire, Kiera pulled away. “I wish I could stay with you,” she said, her voice reluctant. “I’m not really looking forward to today.”

Hearing her admission made me sigh, and I cupped her cheeks as I searched her eyes. “Someday I’ll get you to feel like the confident woman who was prancing around in her underwear last night all the time.” I paused to run my fingers through her damp hair. “You are a beautiful, intelligent woman with a boyfriend who adores you. You have nothing to fear…ever.”

As she averted her eyes, warmth filled her cheeks. “Easy for you to say, rock star.”

Climbing off the bed, she started brushing her hair with a comb. I laughed at her comment as I sat up. “I get nervous.”

She paused to give me a yeah, right expression. I understood why. I was very good at pretending to be fine; I’d had to be. But the things that I was very comfortable with now—sex, being on stage, telling Kiera I loved her—none of those things had come without some discomfort. Not nearly on the scale of what Kiera was experiencing now…but some. Especially that last one.

Picking the one aspect that was the most similar to her current situation, I told her, “No, it’s true. In the beginning, I used to get nervous onstage.”