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“Well, invite her out tonight, I’d love to meet her,” Jane says.
“She doesn’t drink,” I answer automatically.
Jane looks at me as if to say, so what? “Would she still like to go out dancing?”
I can’t picture Scar at a club, dancing in a crowd of people, but it’s never come up before. “Maybe?”
“Well then, ask her. If she doesn’t want to, then we’ll figure out something else to do together.” She walks over to me and puts a hand on each of my shoulders. “But we’re doing something fun and we’re going to do it together. I need some time spent with my big brothers.”
My heart squeezes at that, loving the bond that Jane has with my bandmates.
An alarm from my phone cuts through the air. “Shit, I gotta get ready for sound check.”
Jane steps back as I brush past her, going for the small carry-on I load up from the bus each time we stay in a hotel. I only have the essentials in there, like my clothes for the show tonight, hair gel, cologne, and a toothbrush. I scoop up my black jeans, red cut-off t-shirt, and a fresh pair of briefs and quickly change in the bathroom.
When I come back into the room, Jane is pulling out a black dress from her bag, along with a small cosmetic bag. “I’ll leave my key here with you in case you need to get back into the room at all. Do you know where the venue is?”
“Arun texted it to me.”
I lace up my black boots and shoot to my feet, patting down my pockets and scanning the room for my phone and wallet.
“Desk,” Jane says without looking up from her bag.
Sure enough, both are sitting on top of it.
“Glad to have you here,” I kiss the top of her head as I pass her and am out the room to head to sound check.
22
SCAR
My unease from the interaction at the pool earlier today has soothed out after a long, relaxing shower, a good sound check, and Naomi’s cooking.
I shrug on my oversized black utility jacket and pull my hair over the collar, fluffing out the fresh curls I put it in for the show. Checking my in-ears, I quickly scan backstage to see if anyone else is here. I spotted Reid heading into Whisper Me Nothings greenroom on my way out here, but he didn’t bother acknowledging me. Blew right past me, only briefly meeting my eyes with a scowl that I’ve learned tends to live permanently on his face.
I crack my neck, closing my eyes and breathing deeply, settling into the right mindset needed for my show. My fingers and toes tingle in anticipation, a feeling I’ve come to love and crave. Before I know it, the lights are dimming and the crowd is roaring, the opening beats of my first song reverberating through the venue. I take one last look behind me, not sure why I’m even doing it before I am.
Vivid green eyes pierce back at me, Walker settled off in the corner, leaning against a pile of equipment cases, thick arms crossed over his chest. My breath catches for a moment, and when he winks at me, a new set of flutters take off deep in my gut. I feel heat rising to my cheeks as I quickly divert my head and step onstage with a new set of nerves, knowing he’s standing there watching me.
* * *
My set flies by in whirls of flashing lights, singing crowds, and ringing in my ears. By the time I’m stepping backstage once again, my hair has completely lost its curl, instead falling in clumpy waves sticking to my neck and forehead from sweat. I shuck off my jacket and air out my shirt as much as I can.
Stripping off my in-ears, I’m startled by two large hands as they settle on each of my shoulders, and a low voice whispers in my ear, “Crushed it per usual.”
I spin around and peer up at Walker, smiling brightly down at me. “Thank you.” I smile back, adrenaline still high in my veins.
“Walker!” someone calls out behind him, and I shift my head to Hayden, Nikolai, and Reid all gathered in a huddle, waiting on Walker.
Walker tilts his head up at the ceiling, a look of frustration clear across his face. Whether it has to do with the guys themselves or just interrupting this moment, I’m not sure.
As he refocuses his attention on me, he asks, “You sticking around tonight?” There’s a hopefulness in his eyes, but also hesitation in his tone and immediately guilt rises back up in my throat that I gave him a reason to doubt me. He wants me to stay and watch, but also is preparing for me to dip out again and disappoint him.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I place a hand on his chest, his skin burning hot through the fabric, pec soft and solid at the same time. “I’m sticking around tonight,” I tell him, watching a grin stretch across his mouth, and I want to lean forward and press my own to it.
Walker instead grabs my hand, rings glinting, and presses a kiss to my open palm, the motion sending a spark straight to my lower belly, and I squirm slightly where I’m rooted.
“Do you dance?” he asks, dropping my hand and already starting to walk away.
