His c**k jumps, a breath from my lips, and my heart pounds at the sight of him, the memory of him.

“Stand up, Maggie.” His voice is hard, thick with a need I understand.

In the chilly air, my skin breaks out in goose bumps.

Taking both of my hands in one of his big ones, Asher kicks his jeans away and leads me up the steps to his hot tub. I follow him, sinking into the hot, bubbling water.

He cups my face in his hands and stares down at me with those wild blue eyes. I wait for him to drop his lips to mine, but he doesn’t.

“If I would have believed a miracle like you could come into my life, I would have ended my marriage last year. I would have been waiting and ready.”

I touch his face, his stubble abrading my fingertips. I love this man so much my heart aches with it.

“You’re trembling,” he whispers against my ear.

I pull back so he can see me shake my head. I’m afraid to talk, afraid to speak the words lodged in my throat. Afraid I might lose it.

He holds me, and I cling to him like I’ve never clung to anyone. “I found you, sweetheart. You don’t need to hold together anymore. I found you.”

Epilogue

Maggie… Eight Months Later

Campus is insane with the buzz about tonight’s concert. Sinclair students stood in line for days waiting for tickets to Asher Logan’s concert—his first by himself, and a kickoff to his fifty-campus tour for his new solo album Unbreak Me.

The auditorium is packed, and as the lights go down the crowd explodes in cheers.

The soft spotlights on the stage grow brighter as Asher steps out with his guitar, a fist raised in the air.

The wild shrieks of the girls in the front row fade into the background as I look at him, my heart pounding with pride, my stomach fluttering with nerves.

“Sinclair University, how are you tonight?” he shouts.

They respond with more noise, escalating until the room pulses at the edges with sheer volume and energy.

“Thank you for coming.”

As if on cue, the roars quiet as they wait for him to begin.

“This first one’s for my girl, Maggie.” He turns to where I stand at the side of the stage and winks at me before returning his attention to the crowd. “It’s called ‘Unbreak Me.’”

The audience roars in appreciation.

He plays the opening chords of the song he wrote for me, and as he begins to sing, hot tears streak down my cheeks. I close my eyes and mouth the words.

I was nothing but a failure. A fucked-up, broken shame.

I was nothing but this emptiness. A shell ruined by fame.

Don’t be afraid to shatter, baby, if that will set you free.

I’ll find you in the pieces and that will unbreak me.

When he reaches the end of the song and the crowd’s applause dies down, he turns to me again. “I love you, gorgeous.”

“I love you too!” I shout back over the audience’s screams.

I don’t know if he hears me, but he grins, and my chest is so full of love, I might shatter, and I’m okay with that because I know he’ll find me. Again and again.

THE END