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  After the shocking splash of color made it onto the walls I was surprised at how much I loved it. It took me a few days beyond that to realize it was the same shade as a field of poppies, and then I loved it even more. When Zeb left, I tenderly prodded Poppy about how the big man had coaxed her out of her fortress.

  It was simple really. He told her he needed a woman’s opinion. He wanted to make sure he was in the right wheelhouse and gave her the choice and the control. If I hadn’t already wanted to kiss him, his simple understanding of how Poppy needed to take back the reins of her life would have made me want to jump him on the spot.

  Zeb Fuller was a nice guy. Ugh … a nice guy I couldn’t stop thinking about or picturing very naked. He had tattoos on either side of his neck and ones that peeked out of the collar of his shirt. He had ink that decorated the back of each hand and wild swirls and designs of it that covered every inch of both of his arms. I wanted to see what else marked his skin and then I wanted to drag my tongue across every single inch of it.

  Poppy cleared her throat and walked over to get her own bottle of water out of the fridge. She leaned next to me on the island with its fancy marble top and sighed softly. Even the noises she made sounded like a fragile flower fighting to stay upright in the wind.

  “I like Zeb. I was surprised that I did, but I really do. He reminds me of Rowdy and he didn’t look at me like I was broken. Not once. Eventually I’m going to have to leave this house, go back to work, and I know that means I have to stop thinking every man out there is going to hurt me. Zeb is huge, I mean he’s just so BIG, but nothing about him is threatening or scary once you get to know him. I think he was good practice for me, and I love how the kitchen turned out. I would’ve died if it ended up looking terrible considering it was the first decision I’ve made on my own in a really long time.”

  Rowdy was my younger brother who I didn’t know existed until a year ago, when my father died leaving his secrets printed in black-and-white in his will. Rowdy had grown up in entirely different circumstances than my own, with Poppy and her older sister Salem. After some time and some tragedy, Rowdy and Salem had figured out they were always meant to be together, which meant he cared even more for Poppy and her current state of mind than he normally would. She was family, and now that I’d found Rowdy, and had dropped every part of my old life and moved halfway across the country to get to know him, so was I. My father’s final stab in the back, his last cruel act of manipulation, had actually been the best and only gift he had ever given me.

  I reached out an arm and wrapped it around her thin shoulders so I could give her a squeeze. Unlike her older sister, Poppy was missing any kind of curve or thickness on her frame. She was a waif and sometimes I thought she was going to disappear right before my eyes. I also wasn’t terribly surprised when she wiggled out of my grip. She wasn’t the biggest fan of touching even if it came from a safe place.

  “I can call him back to … I don’t know, I’ll ask him to build a deck or a fence or something if you want more practice.” I was only half kidding. I would love an excuse to have him back within ogling distance.

  Poppy laughed and it was such a rare and precious sound it made my heart squeeze tight. I’d never had a roommate before, never shared my space with anyone so closely or had anyone else to give my time to aside from my clients. I cherished the time I had with this young woman so much that I often wondered if Poppy was healing more than just herself on her journey to take her life back. I refused to acknowledge the scars and wounds etched deep in my psyche and that festered all over my soul from growing up in the care of my father. But occasionally Poppy would say something, or reach out and touch me, or my little brother would call just to check up on me, and old injuries I purposely ignored would tingle as they fought to knit themselves together despite my persistent denial that they existed.

  “No, but thank you for the offer. Rowdy calls me every Thursday night when Salem goes out with her girlfriends and asks me to have dinner with him. I always say no because I panic at the thought of being alone with him and going out in public around all those other people, but I think next time he asks I know can say yes. I can do this.”

  I nodded and tried not to seem overly excited. I didn’t want to pressure her in any way. “That will make him very happy and I think it’ll be good for both of you.” I nudged her with my elbow. “And if you need me to get off work early or want me to come because it’s overwhelming you, just say the word and I’ll make it happen.” Rowdy would understand if she needed me as a buffer. He always understood.

  She gave me a tiny grin that looked like a baby bird trying to figure out how to fly for the first time, in its hesitancy.

  “Thank you. That means a lot.” She walked around the giant island and headed towards the room that was hers at the very back of the house and as far away from my master suite in the converted attic as it could get. She knew her screams of terror carried and had made it clear she wanted to be as unobtrusive as possible while she recuperated in my home. “Good night, Sayer. Sweet dreams.”

  There was a note of humor in her voice that made me think that maybe I hadn’t been as coy about what—or rather whom—was keeping me up at night as I thought. I sighed and made my way up to my own room.

  Zeb had transformed the abandoned and decrepit attic space in the house into a master retreat that anyone would love. It was modern but still had the vintage charm that came with an old house. The colors were all pale grays and soft blues. It was a place where I could shut out the rest of the world after a rough day in court or when I had a client and case I couldn’t let go of. He made me a paradise in my own home and the only thing that would be even better was if he would strip and climb into the massive four-poster king-sized bed with me.

  I called myself every kind of fool I could think of as I took in the tangled sheets and the pillows tossed in every direction. My imaginary Zeb got more of a reaction out of me and out of my body than my very real ex-fiancé ever had. I had been involved with Nathan for years and not once had he made my entire body quake, bow up, tremble from head to toe on the verge of an explosion that had every kind of sweet heat imaginable in it. That was why I had stayed in the relationship for as long as I did. There was no passion, no overwhelming rush of lust and desire that I wasn’t equipped to deal with. Nathan was safe, easy, and I didn’t have to pretend not to feel anything because I legitimately didn’t feel anything other than a bland security that being with him offered.

  There was nothing wrong with Nathan. He was kind. He had a good job. He looked good in a suit and liked all the same things I did … well, all the things I had convinced myself I liked up until my father died and my life turned upside down. And I truly believed that Nathan loved me even though I wasn’t very emotive and worked way too much. He cared about me a lot even though we both knew I was never going to rock his world in the bedroom and that he was never going to be my top priority. It had taken the passing of my father and the discovery of my brother for me to realize that no matter how much effort Nathan put in and how accepting of my frosty personality he claimed to be, it was ultimately a relationship I didn’t choose for myself. It was a relationship I chose to make my father happy and to keep him off of my back. I picked Nathan because that was what was expected of me.

  I knew Nathan deserved better than someone that was only putting forth the bare minimum in order to keep the relationship alive, so despite his protest and his assurance that I was all he wanted, no matter what that looked like, I ended the engagement and packed up and moved to Colorado in search of a new life and a new family. I got both in spades and also a startling wake-up call, when a filthy, unapologetic and ruggedly handsome Zeb Fuller had sat down across from me at a tiny bar table while I was talking to Rowdy.

  The way Zeb affected me was one of the main reasons I wasn’t going to back out of my semi date I had arranged with Quaid Jackson tomorrow. Quaid was the kind of guy that seemed to like reserved blondes that were more comfortab
le in front of judges than they were between the sheets, and it didn’t hurt a thing that he was also disgustingly handsome and over-the-top suave. The term lady-killer had been invented for guys like Quaid, and the way I felt around him, pleasant, warm but generally unaffected, was an emotional reaction I was familiar with. Quaid didn’t make me panic or want to strip naked and throw myself at him. Quaid was safe.

  He was a criminal defense attorney that had a legendary reputation in Denver. We had gotten to know each other when my firm handled his very messy and very public divorce not too long ago, so I was really hoping all he had in mind was a friendly get-together, because there was no way the man could be ready to jump into anything serious after that kind of train wreck. I was hoping time and attention from the handsome blond attorney would force my hormones to get their shit together and stop screaming Zeb’s name. After tonight, I wasn’t so sure it would work, but for the love of God, I needed to get some sleep and I was desperate.

  I straightened out the bed, put the pillows back where they belonged, and hit the lights. I stared up at the ceiling and prayed the rest of the night would be Zeb free. Of course as soon as my eyelids got heavy and sleep began to beckon, I began to wonder what it was like to kiss a mouth that was hidden in a beard—which, of course, led to thoughts about what that facial hair would feel like as it rubbed against other parts of my body. My eyes popped open wide so I groaned and gave up. It was either a cold shower or battery-operated boyfriend time. Neither sounded as pleasurable as the thoughts that were keeping me up in the first place, but a girl had to do what she had to do and sadly I had been taking care of my own needs far too much lately.

  Stupid, illogical crush. This was torture and the only solace I had was that in the past, I had always been too cold, too distant from my emotions to ever feel anything like this before. It was my first crush in my entire life and it was a doozy.

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  Lando and Dom’s Playlist

  I take my book playlists very seriously. So because I felt that there was no way for me to accurately capture the soundtrack that would fit the life of an adorable twentysomething gay man, I asked someone special to put this particular playlist together for me.

  Yep, not only did I dedicate this book to Matt, I also asked him to give it a heartbeat with a soundtrack that would bring the boys to life. I then promptly aged myself by telling him I had never heard most of these songs but still trusted that he nailed the playlist for our boys.

  So once again, thanks, Matt, for being awesome, sweet and adorable, for loving my books, for loving my boys, and for making sure Lady Gaga is on the list … I do love her and that was my one requirement when I handed this project off to him!;)

  Dom’s Playlist

  “All-American Boy” by Steve Grand

  “I Won’t Let You Go” by Adam Tyler

  “Damaged” by TLC

  “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? (2011)” by Amy Winehouse

  “Indestructible” by Robyn

  “Fall into Love” by Wrathschild

  “Not a Bad Thing” by Justin Timberlake

  “Sure Thing” by Miguel

  “Like a Drug” by Adam Tyler

  “You and I” by Lady Gaga

  “STAY” by Steve Grand

  Lando’s Playlist

  “The Beginning” by RuPaul

  “One Last Time” by Ariana Grande

  “Alive” by Krewella

  “I Don’t Have to Sleep to Dream” by Cher

  “Unusual You” by Britney Spears

  “If I Had You” by Adam Lambert

  “Peacock” by Katy Perry

  “Fuck U Better” by Neon Hitch

  “Ready for Love (feat. Chloe Angelides)” by Felix Cartal

  “When Love Takes Over (feat. Kelly Rowland)” by David Guetta

  “What About Us (feat. Sean Paul)” [The Buzz Junkie Radio Edit] by The Saturdays

  “Fashion Of His Love” by Lady Gaga

  “Everytime We Touch” by Cascada

  “Super Bass” by Nicki Minaj

  “Insomnia” by Craig David

  “We Found Love (feat. Chris Harris)” by Rihanna

  “We Got The World” by Icona Pop

  “Do It Again” by Royksopp & Robyn

  “Beautiful Now (feat. Jon Bellion)” by Zedd

  “End Of Time” by Beyonce

  “Gypsy” by Lady Gaga

  Acknowledgments

  I want to extend a special shout-out to Nyrae Dawn for inspiring me to write this story. She wrote an amazing book called Rush about two young men falling in love and fighting to be together and it was so beautiful and honest that I really wanted to push myself to see if I could do something like that. I’m not scared to tell all kinds of love stories but I don’t think without the elegant and thoughtful way she showed how it could be done that I would’ve taken the leap.

  I always knew Lando needed a happy ever after and that was the push I needed to make sure he got one. I’m so happy I gave him his story … I can’t say enough how fun and exciting this book was to write. I hope everyone that asks about Remy and him getting his own book understands now why that isn’t a story I will ever tell. I do happy endings and he gets one … just not in the traditional way. I think Remy’s happy ever after is seeing everyone he loved, everyone he tried to protect … including Lando … happy and ending up exactly where they are supposed to be.

  I adore my readers and being able to talk to them and connect with them is one of my favorite parts of the job. I have a private group on Facebook where we all hang out. If you are interested in joining the group feel free to go to: https://www.facebook.com/groups/crownoverscrowd/

  I do a lot of giveaways and we have a pretty good time in the Crowd. It’s really a place where I can connect one on one with readers and it is always all about the love. Believe it or not there are safe places on the internet.

  All my readers— Thank you for being you. Thank you for being honest and willing to take a risk. Thank you for letting me do my thing even if you wish my thing was something else. You are the best in the land and I really do owe you everything.

  To the blogger nation— Thank you for being badass. Thank you for loving books. Thanks for keeping shit real. Thanks for working so hard often with little reward. Thank you for being invested and interested. Thank you for being on the front lines, sometimes it gets bloody and brutal there but you never give up the fight … neither will I.

  My professional team. Amanda, Jessie, Elle, Molly (the whole Harper crew) … all you kickass chicks in NYC that do what you do like no other, thanks. Thanks for putting up with me and believing in what I do … even if it never is quite the status quo. Your support and faith is humbling in a business that often feels like it can eat you up and spit you out. At the end of the day I never doubt really amazing things will happen when we put our heads together. Kelly Simmon, thanks for answering the Bat Signal whenever it lights up and being all the kinds of awesome you are. Thanks for being clever and quick and thanks for being my friend. Stacey Donaghy, thanks for being you … which is an awful like being me! Seriously, thank you for just getting it … whatever it may be at the time.

  My inner circle, what would I do without you guys? Melissa, Ali, Debbie, Denise, Heather, Megan, Vilma, Jen Mc, and Stacey (are you ready for more of my sweet dance moves?) thanks for simply getting me and getting what I do. Thanks for your honesty and time … I know how valuable both those things are. It may have all started out business but it feels so far removed from that now and I can honestly say you ladies are some of the real, true rewards that have ended up crossing my path along this journey. I love all your faces and want to smother you in so much love. You make me better and there aren’t enough words to thank you for that.

  Thanks to the people that hav
e crossed my path and make me happy every single day just by being them and by loving books the same way I do: Matt (huge-HUGE thanks to you on this one, buddy), Becky, Renee, Christine, Pamela, Stephanie, Damaris, Melissa, Pam, Teri, Dani, Ivette, Jo-Jo, Jessica, Jenn, Courtney, LJ, and Carolyn … this is for you. Please just stay awesome and full of all the great things this industry needs.

  To all the authors that are so disgustingly talented and so inordinately gracious with your time and gifts, thank you for being my inspirations and my friends. You are all brilliant and who you are as people as well as storytellers is unparalleled. This huge thanks and virtual hug goes out to Jen Armentrout, Jenn Foor, Jenn Cooksey, Jen McLaughlin, Tiffany King, Cora Carmack, Emma Hart, Renee Carlino, Nyrae Dawn, Kristy Bromberg, Katie McGerry, Adriane Leigh, Megan Erickson, Jamie Shaw, Tammara Webber, Penelope Douglas, Kristen Proby, Amy Jackson, Rebecca Shea, Laurelin Page, Ek Blair, SC Stephens, Molly McAdams, Crystal Perkins, Kimberly Knight, Tijan, Karina Halle, Christina Lauren, Chelsea M. Cameron, Sophie Jordan, Daisy Prescott, Michelle Valentine, Felicia Lynn, Harper Sloan, Aleatha Romig, Monica Murphy, Erin McCarthy, Liliana Hart, Laura Kaye, Heather Self and Kathleen Tucker. Seriously, I admire every author on this list and what they add to this business and to my writerly life. If you are looking for a solid book to read I promise they won’t disappoint.

  I can never thank my mom and dad enough for all the things they have done for me, or for the enormous amount of support they have shown since this writing gig took off. They are just the best of the best and no kid is luckier than me. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for being all the things … ALWAYS.

  As always I love to holler at my best buddy Mike Maley because he’s an awesome dude and he spends a lot of time taking care of things for me when I’m not around to do it. You’re the best, Mike, and I don’t know what I would do without you … at all!!