Standing up, Xander heads to the kitchen. “Dude, you live with one messy chick.”

Shrugging my shoulders at him, I say, “Some of us have more important shit to do than keep house.”

“But really, you have a housekeeper. She can’t do it?”

“Dahlia wants to do it herself. She’ll get around to finishing the unpacking Xander, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

Smirking, he pours himself a cup of coffee. “Whatever, better you than me. This mess would drive me f**king insane.” Then raising his coffee mug, he asks “Coffee?”

Chuckling and nodding my head, I say, “Xander, leaving the mail on the counter drives you nuts.”

“Speaking of nuts, you were worried the necklace wouldn’t get here. Weren’t you?”

I swivel my chair as he walks back into the room and tap my fingers on the counter. “Not worried. Concerned.”

“Well maybe next time you’ll order your girl’s gift sooner,” he laughs, taking his jacket off and putting it on the back of the stool.

I nod my head in agreement as he sits next to me, handing me one of the cups of coffee. “So the record contract . . .” he starts to say.

Dropping my foot to the floor, I twirl my seat around to face him. “Xander, I don’t want to argue about the label’s shitty stipulations right now.”

“Look bro, I know your mind is elsewhere,” he says, tapping on his phone’s screen and pushing it in front of me. “But we need to get this shit straightened out and sign a contract or we won’t have a deal.”

Glancing at his phone, he’s showing me an email listing the changes to our original unsigned contract. I’ve seen these at least three times, so I roll my eyes.

“Xander, come on. You know the label doesn’t want to negotiate, they just want us to agree before we can move forward and cut the damn album.”

Also listed in the email are the promotional requirements of the band. I haven’t seen these before.

“This touring stipulation is bullshit,” I say to Xander, standing up and continuing to read the new requirements. “Everyone knows the only reason a label asks a band to tour for nine months is because they don’t believe an album can make it on it’s own.”

“You need to quit being a pu**y and get over it, River,” he says as walks over to refill his coffee.

Throwing his phone on the couch, I say, “I don’t need to quit being anything, Xander.”

“Look River, just bring her with you,” he says, setting his cup down on the counter.

I throw myself on the couch and shake my head. “That’s not it,” I say, shoving my boots on the glass coffee table. “I don’t want to be on the road that long. I hate that life. Living on a bus, people in my face all day long, eating shitty food, and drinking every night, never being alone.” I finally admit to him my biggest reasons for not wanting to sign.

“Let me see what I can do,” he says, maybe finally resigned to the fact that I’m not going to sign that contract.

“So, did you tell her yet?” I bolt straight up in reaction to his question. He knows better than to talk about this when Dahlia is in the house.

“No, and I told you I’m not going to.”

“Not a smart idea. What if Bell figures it out and tells Dahlia?”

“Bell’s not going to figure it out. You only did because I told you. I asked you not to bring it up again, and I meant it.”

“River, I understand your need to always protect women more than you think I do, but I think you’re making a mistake here. If she finds out, she’s going to be really pissed off at you.

“I don’t have a need to protect women, Xander. I just don’t see the purpose in unnecessarily hurting someone’s feelings.”

“Yeah yeah, I get it. You’ve always wanted a chick you could talk to, not just f**k around with. That's why you hardly ever went out with someone more than once. I told you I get you, and I do. Really. But now you found an amazing girl, and you have it all, so don’t f**k it up. That's all I’m gonna say about it. You know I got your back no matter what.”

As I hear footsteps coming up the stairs, I quickly throw Xander a shut-the-fuck-up look. I turn my head just in time to get a look at my hot girl coming up the stairs.

“Hey there beautiful.”

“Hey there beautiful yourself,” she says in a flirty tone.

Looking over to Xander, she smiles at him. She has the most awesome smile. “Xander,” she flatly says.

“Muse,” he says just as flatly.

“Did you park your Mercedes out front? Because if you did, I hope it doesn’t get stolen while your slumming,” she says to him, barely able to contain her laughter, and then they both start laughing.

They have actually become friends since she moved in three weeks ago. It took a while, but one drunken night and many funny stories later told about USC, they actually decided they liked each other. In fact, she gets along great with my whole family. She goes out to lunch with my mom and sister at least once a week. My mom even convinced her buy a lot of the stuff we have in the house. Since moving in, we’ve actually bought everything in here together. It’s like I bought this house for us. It fits us perfectly; we both love it and we both love living here together.

Dahlia enjoys the view and photographs it all the time. We even planted wildflowers together before she moved in. They bloomed last week, and the look in her eyes when she saw the flowers made me want to f**k her right there in the garden. We run the trails every morning and whoever wins gets to soap the other one down. She thinks she wins every time. God, I love her.

She walks over and plops herself on my lap, and I start kissing her neck. “What are you doing here anyway?” she asks Xander as he walks over, picks up his phone, and sits right next to us.

He leans over as if he’s going to kiss her neck, and I shove him hard. “Get the f**k out of here man. Don’t you have someone else to go harass?”

“Actually I do have people to see and places to go,” he says as he stands up. “I can let myself out.”

“Great man because I wasn’t getting up.”

“Bye Xander,” she says, waving as he leaves the room, and I turn her so I can really kiss her. The sound of her voice sends a jolt of electricity through my body that lights up deep within my soul.

Shaking his head at me, he slams the door as he leaves.

I kiss her soft full lips; I run my hand down her Pretenders t-shirt, then up the front of it. “Alone at last.”

“We’ve been alone all morning silly,” she says, shoving my hand away as I try to slip my fingers into her bra.

“I know, but you’ve been downstairs,” I say as I suck on her bottom lip before moving in for the kill.

“You can visit me any . . .” she stops talking as I slide my nose over to her ear and dip my tongue in it. I know what this does to her.

She moans a soft purr-like sound, and I grin before scooting her off my lap.

“Hey,” she says, trying to crawl back on my lap.

“I want to give you something,” I tell her as I stride out of the room and into our bedroom.

“I thought that’s what you were doing a minute ago,” she laughs. “Should I come in there?”

Now I’m laughing. She really is the funniest person I’ve ever met. “No. Stay there.”

As I come back out into the room, I tell her, “Close your eyes. No peeking.”

She does and I avert the boxes as I make my way back over to her. “Okay, this isn’t my gift to you for Valentine’s Day,” I tell her as I string the six or so strands of her Aunt’s pearls around her neck. “This is just something I wanted to do for you because I know how much they mean to you.” I put the strand around her neck and before I even finish looping the necklace she’s clutching all of them. When she opens her eyes she looks down at the pearls; a treasured part of her past she once referred to as her magical wishing wells. I had them strung back together for her.

She’s a little teary when she asks, “You did this for me?”

“Of course I did. I know how much they mean to you, and I wanted to make you happy.”

She jumps up and kisses me before running down the hallway to the mirror while screaming, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Yeah, I’m good.

My heart is beating so loudly I think it’s echoing throughout the extremely noisy restaurant. I hold my breath and bite my lower lip in anticipation. She opens the box and to my great relief, she loves it. Her mouth drops open and tears run down her beautiful face as she fingers the necklace I had made for her. “Pearls and a dahlia? How?”

Putting my finger over my mouth and making a shh . . . sound I say, “It’s a secret.” I stand up, walk behind her chair, and reach around her as I whisper in her ear, “I love you.” Then removing the one of a kind, three strand pearl necklace with a quarter size diamond dahlia connecting the individually strung stands from the box, she drapes it around her neck and I take it, clasping it closed for her.

Swiping her long hair to the side, I lean down and inhale that scent I love so much. It smells like some kind of fruit. Orange or grapefruit, I’m not exactly sure. She bows her head when I do this and I kiss the small freckle on the back of her neck. Then I run my finger up her bare back. She is so f**king sexy. Bending down, I lean into her, dragging my tongue up the nape of her neck to her ear. “You taste as good as you look. I'd much rather be eating you than eating here.” Then I wait for the goosebumps to emerge. Sure enough, there they are.

Grinning, I walk back to my chair. “Are you ready to go?”

She throws her arms around my neck as we wait for the car, and I hold her close and tight. “I love my necklace, and I love you.”

She glides her nose over my jaw like she always does when I hug or kiss her. She likes it when I am clean-shaven, and I love how it turns her on. We break apart and I move toward the car.

I open the door for her as I say, “I love you more.”

Once I get in the car, I start it and pull away.

As she’s fumbling through her purse, she pulls out a small black bag. Pointing to the valet’s temporary holding spaces she asks, “Can you pull over there a second?”

Glancing over at her in that dress that leaves little to the imagination, I reach for her hand and grin. “Sure baby. But can’t you wait until we get home?” I can’t help but laugh to myself over my own wit.

She playfully slaps my hand away and doesn’t let me grab hold of hers. “River, just pull over.”

“Okay beautiful girl, your call,” I say, winking at her while I continue with the game, thinking she wants me now.

I put the car in park and turn to fully face her. She looks like a knockout in that short strapless black number. The dress exposes so much of her soft skin, it’s just calling for me to lick it and the bottom is so short, it’s just screaming for me to run my fingers under it. What’s really killing me are those thigh high boots, they made me hard the minute I saw her. Honestly, I’m having a hard time keeping my shit together around her tonight. I really should’ve just taken her into the bathroom, but it’s Valentine’s Day, and I want to make it romantic.

I’ve never spent one of these heart filled days with someone I really cared about, so this is all new to me. My sister suggested taking Dahlia to a nice hotel for the night, so that’s what I’m doing. I actually made a reservation at the Beverly Wilshire last month. The suites were all taken, but I was able to book a room.

She touches her pearls for a minute while the black bag rests on her lap. She seems pretty happy. Then with that seductive smile she wears that could thaw the artic, she says, “Close your eyes, and hold your hands out.”

I swallow and nod, squeezing my eyes shut and holding my hands palms up over the console. As I do I can feel cool metal objects being carefully placed into them.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, River.”

Opening my eyes, I see six metal guitar picks, all uniquely engraved. I scan each one before looking up at her. My smile must be wider than any dam ever built to stop a flood.

Inhaling deeply, I transfer all of them into one hand and hold up the one that reads, ‘I Love You’. I stare at her with amazement and wonder. “I love you,” I whisper while trying to rein in my emotions. I lean over and kiss her, slipping my tongue in her mouth because I want to taste her so badly. I squeeze my palm shut so I won’t drop any of the picks and grab her with my free hand. I run my hand through her soft hair and over the smooth bare skin of neck and shoulders.

She giggles her cute laugh and pulls away, breathing just as hard as I am. “I love you more.”

Shaking my head in disagreement, I decide not to engage in our little who loves who more game because I know I’ll win. I love this girl more than anybody has ever loved anyone. Instead, I just look at her as she moves her hand to my tightly closed palm.

She begins to pull my fingers open, one at a time, exposing the scribed picks. She takes all the picks out of my hand, leaving the ‘I Love You’ one in my palm. Selecting one guitar tab at a time, she says each engraving to me as if she’s whispering sweet nothings.

“Hold Me,” she whispers, running her fingertips over the words before gently placing it in my hand with the ‘I Love You’ pick. Then she whispers, “Touch Me,” while placing it in my hand with the other two. She continues to whisper “Kiss Me,” and “Love Me,” as she does the same thing. Finally, she giggles through her words as she says, “And this is my favorite, ‘Loverboy’.”