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“How many?” the woman asks.
My throat goes dry and my mouth doesn’t open.
Aaliyah steps forward. “Three.”
“I don’t know what your deal is, but these rock stars are nothing,” Kalise whispers at my side and pushes me forward. “You’re a fucking queen.”
She’s right. Entirely. I don’t do nervous. I don’t do timid. I own my life, and I live unapologetically. Have for years. I give myself a shake, push my shoulders back, and walk forward with all the confidence in the world.
Maybe I should play it cool. Or at least try to look at someone else first, but I can’t help it. My gaze searches for his, and maybe it’s wishful thinking, but the minute his cool blue eyes catch me staring, I swear they light with recognition.
“Please tell me there’s free booze,” Kalise says as we join another line, this one for a photo op with the band. It’s the reason I paid an ungodly sum for these tickets; I wanted to get near enough to him so we could talk.
“Yeah, after our photo.” I manage to sound normal.
Kalise glances around and at the sight of the bar in the corner, she tips her chin. “This line isn’t going anywhere fast. I’ll be right back.” She takes a few steps and calls back, “You want something?”
Aaliyah laughs. “Hell, yes.”
“I got you,” she says and heads to the bar.
I focus on my friends and not tripping as we shuffle forward every few minutes, but my eyes continue to drift back to him. Each time I do, he catches me looking and his lips lift in a flirty smile that does things to my insides. The room is loud with laughter and conversation. The band takes time with each guest before they move along.
“Girl, he’s into you,” Aaliyah hums low enough he can’t hear.
“You think?” That flicker of hope in my chest grows a little stronger. I hold my head higher. My fears subside. I don’t know whether he remembers me, or if he just finds me amusing, but either way I have his attention.
“Can’t stop staring,” she says, and it’s true.
“Back, bitches.” Kalise grips three drinks in her hands and manages to hand two off without dropping one.
“Thank you,” I say, though my stomach is in knots and I can’t imagine drinking anything. Besides, I want all of my senses on full alert.
“Just in time.” Aaliyah grins and sucks back most of her drink as the line attendant greets us.
“Ready to meet the guys?” she says with an enthusiasm and familiarity that instantly strikes a chord of jealousy in my mind.
I brush off the feeling and walk forward, refusing to back down now that I’ve made it to this moment.
“Hey, beautiful,” he meets my gaze. His voice is all sex and bad decisions, nothing like when we were kids. “How you doing tonight?”
“Not great.” The old familiar pain strikes at the sight of him this close after so many years. I’m tempted to throw the goddamn drink in his perfect, smiling face.
As if she can read my mind, Aaliyah takes the glass from my hand.
“Oh? That’s a shame. Someone as gorgeous as you should be having a good time.” There it is again. The innuendo. Does that work for him? Does he think one smirk and all is forgiven?
No. He doesn’t recognize me. He wouldn’t be this arrogant if he did.
I ignore the part of me that jumps to attention at the thought of taking Austin to my bed. Letting him worship me in the way I’ve fantasized too many times. I shake my head and draw in a breath. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Shit,” one of the other guys mutters, but I don’t catch who. I’m too busy reading Austin’s face.
“You look really familiar.” he says with sincerity, and takes a step forward, closing the space between us.
I could reach out and slap him. Better yet, pull him to me and allow him to wrap me in his arms. Instead, my hands go to my hips and I tilt my head.
He takes a languid look down my body, obviously appreciating my full curves. Good. My efforts don’t go unnoticed. As his eyes scrape back up and settle on my eyes I finally say what I came here for.
“It’s me. Jayla.” I stare and wait for the realization to hit him. It does. His eyes widen and for a second he drops the cool rock star façade, looking more like the boy I fell for all those years ago. Words stick on the tip of my tongue—ones that berate him and express the anger, isolation, and sadness I felt when he never called or tried to reconnect. I never wanted to leave Phoenix, but at sixteen I had no choice. He was the one who broke his promise.
“Jayla,” he repeats my name, a whisper first and then louder. “Jay? It’s really you?”
I nod and take in the joy that lights his eyes, the thrill that runs through my body at being this close to him again.
“Jesus.” He opens his arms, taking one step closer, and doesn’t wait for my permission before pulling me into his arms. His body isn’t anything like I remember. His muscles are filled out where he was once all long limbs, and his chest is full and strong.
I resist the desire to sink into his warmth, his comfort, his masculinity. And after a beat longer than is appropriate, I step out of his embrace.
“God, it’s good to see you, Jay. I didn’t know.” His eyes don’t leave mine, and without glancing around the room, I’m certain we’ve garnered everyone’s attention. His words rush forth with what I think is a mixture of disbelief and genuine excitement. “You’re here? I mean you live here, in LA?”
“Yeah, I’ve been here.” My fingers clench my bag and jacket. I force myself to hold his gaze and school my features. I came here to tell him off. To show him what he missed out on. But instead, I can’t produce more than a stare and a few awkward words.
“Shit.” Austin turns to his bandmates and it’s then I meet Trent’s friendly gaze. “Guys, this is a friend from high school.”
“Jayla, I remember.” Trent steps forward, holding out his hand. “How are you? How’s your brother?”
“Good.” I return his firm handshake and offer a smile at the thought of my older brother. “Desmond. He’s good. Married and with two little ones.”
“That’s fantastic. Tell him I said hi.”
“I will.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Jones. Mr. Donavan,” the woman in charge of the line interrupts. “We need to get to the next guest. Can we get everyone lined up for a photo?”
“Sorry,” I begin.
But Austin turns to her. “We’ll get to them. There’s plenty of time.” He zeros his attention back on me before she even leaves and it’s Aaliyah who clears her throat behind me.
God. They’re going to kill me. I force my smile to stay in place. “These are my friends, Aaliyah and Kalise.”
“It’s so nice to meet you.” Austin gives them each a sincere handshake, and makes quick introductions to his bandmates. But while my girls shake hands and chat with the others, he turns back to me. “I don’t want you to leave.” His gaze holds no teasing or lightness.
“I think I have to.” I raise my brows and point toward the door. “You have a show or something.”
“I can’t believe you’re here.” He ignores my comment and reaches out to touch my arm, almost as if he can’t fathom it. “Thank you.”
His words swirl in my mind, catching me off guard. “For what?”
“Always believing in me.” And it’s as if time stands still. Frozen. Him looking at me. Me staring at him. All the years we lost disappear and I’m with my best friend again.
“Aust, we really need to take this photo,” Trent says.
“Sure. Sorry.” He guides me by my elbow, his touch gentle and light, and leads me to stand between him and Trent. We turn, smiling to the photographer as she snaps three quick photos. I try to smile. I swear I do. I hope I manage to appear happy and not full of the tremulous thoughts that race through my brain. This is all so surreal.
“Tonight. After the show. Come out with us. The Sands. We’ll get you on the list.”
“Oh, I do
n’t know.” I back up, knowing he has to go, and not sure where this leads. I can’t erase the last thirteen years as if they never happened. We’re not friends anymore. We can’t go back.
“Please. I don’t want to say good-bye.”
The next group walks forward, and the rest of the band turns their attention while Austin stares and waits for my answer.
“I’ll try,” I finally relent, and then Aaliyah and Kalise are at my side, walking my dazed self toward the exit and straight to the first ladies’ room.
“Jay, girl . . .” Kalise pins me with a no-you-fucking-didn’t look. “You got some explaining to do.”
“What?” I turn to the mirror and reach up to touch my corkscrew curls, hating the doubts that come to mind. Did he like my hair? I never used to wear it like this. Did he find me attractive?
Aaliyah rolls her eyes and shoves me over a few inches. “You never said you were friends with a rock god!” She glosses her lips in a natural shade of pink.
“He’s just a man,” I remind myself as much as my friends.
“A very famous one. A man who’s loaded. Girl, you need to get on that!” Kalise bugs her eyes and levels her stare.
“Then hook a sister up!” Aaliyah presses her nails into her chest and bats her lashes.
“I thought you were in love with Drake,” I say.
“I am,” Aaliyah says with conviction before letting a smile take over her face. “What the brother don’t know, won’t hurt him.”
Kalise gives in to a smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
The muted sounds of applause and wailing guitars greet my ears. The opening act. Not one I’m that excited to see, but if it’ll lessen the current inquisition, I’m game. “Let’s go. Concert’s starting.”
Aaliyah shakes her head, but steps ahead and leads the way.
I follow a half step behind, with Kalise on my left as we make our way through the now crowded concourse and to our section. After showing the attendant our tickets, she leads us through the almost deafening music to find our seats.
“Don’t think just because we’re here at this concert that you get out of explaining,” Aaliyah shouts as she takes the seat at my right. “Imma need to know everything.”
“Details.” Kalise nods. “Including why the hell you had to pay so much for these tickets!”
“Seriously. We should be backstage or something.” Aaliyah shakes her head, and I just know it doesn’t matter what I say, she won’t let this go. “Hook me up.”
“It was a long time ago. I didn’t think he’d remember me.”
“Mmm hmm.” Kalise stares across my body at Aaliyah. Together they exchange some kind of silent communication.
Aaliyah lifts her pointer finger and levels her manicured nail at me. “We’re going to that club.”
“What?” I say like I don’t know exactly what club she’s referring to.
“You heard me. You’re gonna meet him tonight so you can get whatever it is you came here for.”
Only, I’m not sure exactly what that is.
4
Austin
“We’re behind schedule. Sorry, they need you in the green room. Now,” Jax, one of the tour assistants calls from the open doorway.
We wave good-bye to the lingering guests and staff working tonight’s pre-show meet and greet. I follow behind Sean as we head toward the green room. These meet and greets are an addition since WMI bought out Off Track Records, and one of the few changes we’ve actually enjoyed. Face time with our biggest fans in a more intimate setting is an absolute joy. We usually have plenty of time after to hang before the show, though tonight we’re pushing it.
“What happened in there tonight?” Jax lowers his brow and taps at his cell, his long strides setting a quick pace. “Did they sell too many tickets again?”
“I don’t think so.” Trent glances over his shoulder and briefly meets my eyes. “Just a few familiar faces.”
Jax touches his earpiece and nods before he opens the door for us to pass. “The girls are already on stage left. We’re cutting it close. I need you guys ready in fifteen. That good?”
Trent tips his chin. “Ready when you are.”
“Be back in a few.” Jax taps the door frame with his knuckles and strides out the door, barking orders into his headpiece before it fully shuts.
Leighton settles on a chair and pulls his sticks from his back pocket to bang on one of the end tables.
I slide past Trent and Sean to head straight for the bar.
We usually have a good hour before we have to be on stage. Time to chill, nurse a few beers, shoot the shit. Hang with Opal and often times Lexi, too. Not tonight.
Not much these days rattles my nerves or shakes my confidence. I can play the set in my sleep. But not tonight. My mind races and I can’t get into my usual pre-show headspace. Anticipation thrums in my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I want to blame it on the tight schedule, but that’s a complete lie. It’s her. It’s always been her.
I grab a beer from the bar and pop off the top before tilting it back to drain the entire bottle.
“Slow down, speed racer. We got all night.” Sean wanders closer and snags a beer for himself.
“Why wait?” I force a smirk and shrug. “I say, party starts now.” I reach for another drink but Trent snatches it out of my hand.
“Pretend you’ve done this before.” He shakes his head and by the forced smile on his lips I can tell he’s annoyed.
“No bailing now. You promised.” I step around him and grab another beer, taking a swallow before he attempts to block me again.
“Yeah, yeah.” He pushes his hair back from his face. “But that’s after the show. Nothing good comes of getting shitfaced beforehand.”
I don’t appreciate his tone, or that he’s acting as if I need hand-holding. But I shrug it off because I know the reason I’m feeling out of sorts has nothing to do with him. She’s out there. She’s waiting to watch me perform. I set the beer down and reach for a water instead. I need to be at my best.
You’re such a showoff.
Her playful words and a memory from my youth hit me square in the chest. As a teen, I wanted nothing more than for her to like me. It was half the reason I took up guitar in the first place. I guess no matter how much time passes, some things never change.
“Crazy seeing Jayla?” Trent says, probably able to read my mind. “You two were close. Right?”
“Yeah.” I swallow down the memories and feign disinterest. I don’t feel like rehashing the past. Not now. Not right before the show.
“She wasn’t wearing a ring.” Trent shrugs and glances at Sean with a smirk.
I noticed the same. But that doesn’t mean she’s single, or even interested. Hell, she didn’t want to date me then, so there’s no indication she’d want to now. Fuck.
Trent lifts an eyebrow and tips his head at the door. “Come on, Mr. Bachelor. You really trying to tell me you didn’t notice.”
“I did.”
“And . . .” He twirls his finger as if to say get on with it.
“You think she’d be into me?” I ask in a moment of clarity.
Trent’s jaw drops open and he turns to Sean. “I don’t believe it. Didn’t know it was even possible.”
“Maybe he’s sick?” Sean glances at me with wide eyes. “Inhabited by aliens.”
“What?” I glance behind to see who they’re talking about, but then turn back to find both their gazes on me. Shit. I pat my hands over my body, thinking surely something must be out of place.
“The humility thing.” Trent’s lips lift in a slight grin. “It’s strange.”
“It’s uncomfortable for me, too,” I admit.
“Don’t worry, man. Get on that stage tonight and play your heart out.”
Sean slaps me on the back with a chuckle. “Yeah, some chicks really dig rock stars.”
He’s right. What am I so worried about? I’m a fucking god on stage; if anything’s gonna impress
a woman, it’s me and my guitar. I straighten my shoulders and let the smile take over my lips. “You ugly fuckers make me look good.”
“And he’s back.” Trent laughs. “Come on, let’s get out there.”
* * *
I’ve been on a thousand stages. Played so many shows I’ve stopped keeping count, but the high of playing for a massive group of screaming, adoring fans never ceases to amaze me. Doesn’t matter that we’ve been up here for two hours. If anything, the crowd’s enthusiasm only increases. We long ago exhausted our usual playlist. This is our second encore. But the fact we don’t have to hop on a bus or catch a flight until tomorrow propels us to play just a few more.
“I love you, Three Ugly Guys!”
“Marry me!”
Trent chuckles into his mic and points a finger across the stage at me. “Don’t give up hope, because that guy’s still single, ladies.” He winks and the crowd erupts in cheers.
A grin pulls at my lips. The knowledge that I could ask any number of said ladies to spend the night in my hotel room and they’d say yes still baffles me. Not too bad for the skinny kid who couldn’t get laid or hook a girlfriend in high school. “That’s right, all you sexy, gorgeous, single women. Sing your heart out for me.” I point out into the crowd, even though it’s difficult to see past the first rows because of my spotlight. “I’m gonna come find whoever’s the loudest.”
“Yeah, brother?” Trent chuckles into his mic. “Then what’cha gonna do to the poor thing?”
I turn to him and flash a smile. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m gonna do.” But it’s all for show. There’s only one woman on my mind right now, and I wish to hell I had the good sense to give her backstage passes. Then I wouldn’t be staring out into this massive crowd, wondering where she is, if she’s even there.
Shit. She must think I’m a complete ass. If I hadn’t been taken by surprise, I would have given her and her friends the best seats in the house. Fuck. I hope I didn’t screw up. She probably thinks I’m a pretentious asshole. God, I hope she shows at the bar. I’ll make sure to set things right. Take care of her the way I should have.