Page 26 of Wild

"Okay, go," someone calls, and Mia sprints to her mark.

The lights cut across the entire arena and the crowd roars as a single spotlight finds Mia Wilder. It looks like it might be something slow, but the show kicks off with an upbeat song where Mia opens with a few seconds of solo choreography before the dancers join her—dancers Erin never even notices take the stage, because her eyes haven't left the singer.

Mia's nerves seem to have vanished completely. She owns the stage now, running on that energy of hers that Erin finds completely contagious. The songs keep coming and Erin stays calm. Mia isn't showing any symptoms, and she's drinking between songs without needing a single reminder.

Then, suddenly, the singer goes still at the edge of the stage. The music stops—and so does Erin's heart, because she thinks something has happened—but then Mia lifts the microphone toward the crowd and a melody begins, one that thousands of voices answer, singing back while she waves them on.

Erin's skin breaks out in goosebumps and a shiver runs through her from head to toe, as if she were the one standing in front of all those people. She runs her hands up her own armsand lets out a slow breath, unable to imagine what the singer must be feeling right now.

"That never goes away, no matter how many shows you see," Nell says, appearing at her side.

"It never fades?"

The woman shakes her head.

"I've been in this business my whole life. I've been on tour with a lot of artists, and when one comes along who's as electric and magnetic as she is—" Nell tilts her head toward the stage "—that feeling never goes away."

She disappears as quickly as she arrived, already giving instructions into her walkie-talkie, and Erin decides she can't keep watching Mia the way she's been watching her. She needs to look at her as a doctor responsible for her patient's health—not as a woman who, right now, wouldn't mind taking back what she said on the plane and letting Mia keep seducing her. She grabs her bottle and drinks again, pushing those stupid thoughts out of her head before they get any more room, then turns her attention back to her job.

When it's over, Mia comes off the stage buzzing with euphoria, adrenaline running high the way it always does after a show. She moves with that restless energy so typical of her in these moments, and not even Noah, who drapes a towel over her shoulders for the sweat and then holds out a hoodie so she doesn't get cold, can slow her down. Mia knows she has to find Erin, because the doctor asked her to before she went on. She needs to take her vitals, and that has become one of the singer's favorite moments of the day—because it's the only one when that woman actually touches her.

"I'm all yours," she says, stopping in front of her—but she comes in with so much momentum that her body carries her one step too far before she can stop herself, leaving her just inches from Erin.

The doctor feels the heat radiating off her, and for a moment she freezes, looking down while Mia looks up and finds her gray eyes. It's only a few seconds, but Erin feels the breath leave her body when Mia's gaze drops to her mouth.

"It's a shame you're not the least bit interested," the singer whispers before she can stop herself, but she steps back the instant she hears her own voice. "Sorry," she adds with an embarrassed smile. "It's the adrenaline—sometimes I don't filter."

Mia takes another step back and drops her eyes to Erin's boots while her chest heaves from the final closing number.

"Don't worry about it. Let's wait for your breathing to settle before I take your pulse. Do you want some water?"

Mia shakes her head. Her mouth is dry, but that has nothing to do with thirst, and Erin doesn't push it—she's worried Mia might choke or get the hiccups if she drinks in this state.

Noah walks over with the hoodie Mia still hasn't put on, and she lets out a groan because she's burning up.

"Put it on," Erin says, and the words come out far more authoritative than she intended.

Mia sighs and makes a face—not because of the hoodie, but because she can't press her mouth to this woman's and she's starting to want her in a way that feels almost obsessive.

"That was incredible," Noah says. "One of the best shows of the whole Wild tour."

Mia smiles at her friend, but her eyes can't help searching for the doctor's, because she'd love to know whether she thought so too.

"You were incredible," Erin says, catching her off guard. "The fact that it's not my style doesn't mean I can't recognize a great voice and an absolutely stunning performance."

The smile Mia gives her isn't the crooked one Erin has come to know. This is a different one—probably her real smile, the oneshe can't control because it comes from somewhere deep, and the doctor looks away and focuses on taking her pulse before the tension coiling in her stomach gets any worse.

"Hey, guys," a woman says.

"Hey, Lexie," Noah answers in that warm way of his.

Erin finishes counting, notes the heart rate in her notebook, and looks up. Standing in front of Mia is a woman with dark blond hair loose past her shoulders. She has on wide-leg black pants, white sneakers, and a fitted tank top tucked in at the waist. She must be in her early thirties, and Erin can't quite put her finger on what makes her so striking, because there's no single feature that stands out—and yet there's something about her that makes you look.

"I'm Lexie Farhall," the woman says, offering her hand.

That's when Erin notices she's holding a recorder in the other hand and wearing a press credential around her neck.

"Erin," she replies, returning the small smile Lexie gives her.