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He’s Italian.
Older.
A gorgeous tattooed Harley lover…
And the one man I can never have.
Tate wasn’t only my first love…
​
He’s my first heartache.
Frenemy.
Regret.
Elijah Diesel isn't just my gorgeous, older, mysterious obsession, he's the lead vocalist of an alternative rock band taking the world by storm.
He wanted nothing to do with me.
Yet he kept coming back…
And I let him.
He's my husband.
The love of my life.
But if this is supposed to be the end of us,
then why does it feel like it's only just the beginning?
