The day passes by in a blur, from sound checks to a radio sponsored meet and greet, lunch with Bedo and the guys, and all the preparation in between. Trent’s undeniably cheerful. His smile accentuates his already beautiful features as he converses with everyone but me. I’m not jealous, or even hurt, because even though he works to keep his focus on the job, his eyes always find their way back to me. And that smile, it grows each time he catches me staring back.
My doubts about this thing between us—how it will work and what happens in the next few months on the road, and even beyond the tour when we inevitably part ways—try to overtake the joy that fills my mind each time he pins me with that magnificent smile. But I don’t let them. I don’t let myself become consumed with worries. I don’t overthink, just roll through the motions, and before I have more than five minutes to myself it’s time to head onstage.
Music is where I find peace. It’s where I get lost, and for one blissful set, exactly forty-seven minutes, I forget all my troubles, all my blessings. I live in the rhythms I tease from my guitar, the words that pour from my lips, and I exist in nothing other than the moment at hand. It affirms that I’m exactly where I need to be. Tonight’s crowd is no different than any other, but their cheers amplify and feel altered—or maybe it’s me who’s changed. The rush from playing onstage takes me higher than before, and energy thrums through my body. My arms quiver as I exit the stage and head for my dressing room.
Trent, Austin, Sean, Iz, and Bedo come around the corner, heading for the stage, and what a sight they are dressed in tight jeans, heavy boots, and shirts that will probably come off within the first fifteen minutes of the show.
“Lex.” Trent tips his head to me, his eyes burning with a heat I feel down to the tips of my toes.
“Have a good show,” I say with a wave, trying to act normal, even though my body wants to jump his bones. I focus on my feet so I won’t stare at him like some obsessed fan, and breathe a sigh of relief when I make it inside my room without embarrassing myself.
As soon as the door clicks shut behind me, there’s a knock. I pull it open a few inches to reveal Trent’s lean body blocking the space.
“Hey.” I chance a peek up from under my lashes.Fuck.This is why he consumes my thoughts. Why I can’t look away. His eyes, so bold and honest, hold everything I want right now.
“Hey.” One hand grips the doorframe, the other slides up my side until his fingers lift the hem of my tank to rub circles on my hip. It’s a move that’s both innocent and erotic.
I flick my tongue across my lip ring in a silly attempt to calm my racing pulse. “Don’t you have to play?” I raise my brow.
His soft chuckle tugs at the desire already pulsing through my veins and washes over me with delight. “Yeah. I just ... I wanted to kiss you first.”
“So, kiss me.”
His lips crash with mine and for a few seconds everything but the taste of his kiss fades away. We aren’t in a crowded arena. He’s no one famous. I’m not a music artist trying to make it on my own. We’re just Lexi and Trent.
It’s everything.
He pulls back with that arrogant smirk and a lift of one eyebrow while I struggle to catch my breath. “Tonight, Lexi. Us.”
I nod because I can’t speak at the moment, even if I tried.
“Come watch me play.” He backs away and the door drifts shut. I reach out to catch it and keep it open.
“I’ll try,” I manage, but he shakes his head.
“Come watch me tonight. Please.”
“Okay.” I can’t refuse when he asks so nicely.
His face lights up with that radiant smile and I shut the door before I’m tempted to chase after him. Instead, I settle in front of the mirror, reapply my makeup, and fix my hair until I look as beautiful as I feel. As ready as I’ll ever be, I pack the rest of my stuff in my bag and leave it by the door to pick up after the show.
Making my way toward the stage is strange because I’m not here to play. A different kind of excitement, one that’s even more anxious, settles in my gut. I want to see him, up close and personal, while he performs. It’s his craft and one I have so much respect for when done right, but I’m no good at being a spectator on the sidelines. Jitters overtake my thoughts the closer I get. The screams of the crowd. The wail of the guitars. The crash of the drums. They’re already onstage so I need to hustle. Walking down the hallway that leads to the side of the stage reserved for those with exclusive passes, I find the door that leads to the show.
“Lexi! Over here!”
I turn at the sound of my name and work to veil my shock at who I find waving. It’s Cora. Jealously I can barely contain rushes alongside the myriad insecurities that bubble up with her unannounced arrival.
She jogs over, though it should be impossible in those heels. Her lips are painted cherry pink and her long locks are pulled into a high ponytail. Her dress is a throwback to the ’60s, but looks designer and trendy. She’s the epitome of feminine perfection.
Did Trent know she would be here? Why didn’t he at least warn me? Maybe he didn’t think it’d be a big deal. Why are her legs so goddamn long and flawless? Is she better than I am at sex? If he has the choice between us both, who will he pick?
“Lexi!” Cora’s smile is easy, her joy at my arrival almost believable as she pulls me in for a hug. She backs away and her beauty is only further showcased when she opens her mouth to speak, her hands animated. “Girl! You are like my new favorite artist. Please tell me you have a new album coming because I’ve worn out your EP!”
“Oh, thanks. I’m hoping to record after this tour, but we’ll see.” Her compliment throws me off, and even though she looks every bit the Hollywood starlet, she doesn’t come across as anything other than down to earth.
She hooks her arm through mine as though we’re the best of friends, and leads us backstage. “Now, let’s go watch our boys.”
I’m at war within my head because as much as I want to push Cora away with a mean or snarky comment, I can’t seem to do so. She’s genuine. If I lash out, I’ll be the petty one. I’ve never been that girl.
