Couldn’t she see how absurd this conversation was? I’d probably come right back here after the tour, and that would be the end of my fifteen minutes. Somewhere deep inside, she had to know that I wasn’t going anywhere. The kind of fame she was talking about was exceedingly rare…and not really what I was looking for. But it really didn’t matter either way, because even if that crazy situation somehow did happen to me, it wouldn’t change me. I wasn’t going to go nuts or anything. I liked my simple life, especially now that Kiera was sharing it with me.

Kiera lightly tapped my chest, amused at my outlandish suggestion, but then she said, “No, for you, it’s women.” Her face fell as she shook her head. “Always women.”

I could hear the trace of pain in her voice, the sadness, and I knew I hadn’t successfully lightened her worries. She truly was scared about my future, about our future. I understood that too; her fear mirrored my own. Kiera still didn’t think she was enough for me, and as happy as she was for me, she was worried about me replacing her down the road…just as worried as I was about her replacing me one day. It was that same dark cloud that always seemed to hover over us. How could we possibly survive with all of this doubt between us? Was this our downfall? Endlessly worrying about the other person’s fidelity until we drove each other insane.

We wouldn’t last long that way…even I knew that. We needed to shift our thinking. We needed to start doing what we’d said we would do—try to trust each other. Otherwise…there really would be nothing left for me to come home to. And I needed to come home to her. I couldn’t picture my life without her.

Sadness overtook me as I searched her face. “You have to trust me, Kiera.” I tried to crack a hopeful smile, but I knew I wasn’t succeeding. “Just like I have to trust you.” That was the only way we were going to have the lasting future I desperately wanted.

Needing to lighten the mood, I immediately grinned and made a crack about her getting tired of me one day, maybe leaving me for a Jonas Brother once I’d sold out and hit the bottle. Amused by the picture I’d painted, her mood finally brightened. She rapped me on the chest again before leaning up to kiss me. “Never. You’re mine, washed-up or not.”

Exactly, Kiera. Exactly.