The little girls giggle at the man on stage singing his own version of “Let It Go.” He’s turned the epic ballad into more of a rock anthem—singing it without a single beat of music. I’ve watched him up on stage before; his talent is undeniable and his sexiness is utterly swoon-worthy. But watching him today, as he sings a song for a five-year-old he adores, puts the whole man into perspective. His beauty shines through from the inside out.
I’m leaning against the wall on the other side of the theater, taking it all in. A gaggle of moms stand nearby, as riveted as their daughters, only the look on most of their faces tells me their interest is far less innocent.
“You think he likes older women? I mean, we’re more experienced.”
“Look at him. Do you really think we have more experience? Giving Harold a BJ on his birthday and your anniversary doesn’t equate to the type of experience that man must have. I bet he fucks like the devil.”
“Victoria! You’re so bad!” They both giggle.
“I’d like to be bad with him.”
The women sigh loudly. “Do you think having all that rhythm makes him better in bed?”
Flynn’s song ends, and the place erupts in applause that by far overshadows the clapping the end of the movie garnered. He winks at Laney in the front row and heads toward me. Through my periphery, I see the horny moms follow his steps as he strides closer to where I’m standing.
“Back to the balcony?” He offers me his hand.
I take it, walk two steps, and then stop, turning back to whisper to the moms, “The rhythm definitely makes him better.” I wink and walk away, leaving their mouths hanging open and their eyes green with envy.
“What was that all about?” Flynn asks as we make our way back up to the balcony.
“Nothing.” I smirk deviously. We settle back into our seats and he guzzles a full bottle of water. “Thirsty?” I tease.
“How did I do, coach? I did everything you taught me. Tilted my head so my throat was open, leaned back instead of forward. I think I earned an A.”
Shit. I was supposed to be watching him for professional purposes. “You did great. You’re a model student.”
He smiles. “I had a good teacher.”
“I don’t even think you really ever needed me.”
He stares at me for a long moment with his beautiful blue eyes. “Funny. I was just thinking you’re all I really need.”
My heart sighs and the entire world fades away as he slowly leans in and, ever so gently, brushes his lips with mine. We’ve been intimate, but this moment is at an entirely different level. He rests his forehead against mine, and I hold my breath while he speaks. “Lucky,” he groans. “I want you. I keep trying to distance myself, but it’s impossible. I wake up with your name on my lips every morning. I want you next to me during the day and beneath me at night.” He closes his eyes, and when he reopens them, the pain I see crushes me. “Tell me to walk away and I will. But if you don’t right now…” He shakes his head. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to.”
The thought of losing him sickens me. It’s not a difficult decision. “Don’t walk away. I just need more time to figure things out.”
He closes his eyes, and I watch his face visibly relax. We sit hand-in-hand in the balcony until the last person sings. Then we go down to a very excited Laney. Carolyn is by her side, a hesitant look on her face. “Ummm…Laney told the girls you would sign some autographs.”
Flynn’s dimples appear along with his adorable crooked smile. “No problem.” I’m pretty sure Carolyn blushes.
A half hour later, he signs the last autograph and thanks Carolyn. A few workers from the theater come to carry the portable stereo that acted as backup for the singers today. “Would you mind if we borrowed that for five minutes and I’ll carry it out to your car?” His smile is less innocent this time—he absolutely knows it will get him what he wants. I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes when Carolyn gushes that she’d be delighted.
When the theater door closes behind her, Flynn turns to me. “You ready?”
“Ready for what?” I ask nervously.
“Our duet.”
“Ummm…I don’t think so.”
He leans in so that Laney can’t hear him. “‘Let It Go’ was the number-one karaoke song last year. You’re not going to try to bullshit me that you don’t know it like you did in the car, are you?”
Shit.
There may be no stage, but the big room is nerve-wracking nonetheless. I look around and swallow.
“We got this.” He squeezes my hand and stares into my eyes. The way he looks at me, assuring me, I believe his words.
We do have this.
He smiles, knowing I’m giving in before I even do. Then, together, with an audience of one little princess smiling from ear to ear, we stand at the front of the theater and sing the shit out of the Frozen song.
Laney babbles almost the entire way back to the hotel. It’s clear she adores her uncle, and he is most definitely wrapped around her tiny little finger. After we park, she insists on holding both our hands. She squeals with delight when we swing her into the air between us, and demands, “Again.”
Busy entertaining the little tyrant, none of us even notice we walk smack into a row of three men as we enter the hotel lobby. The middle one being my very unhappy-looking boyfriend.
His eyes hard, he takes in the full scene before him. We must look like a happy couple playing with their child. The smile drains from my face along with the color. His jaw flexes. “You haven’t answered your phone.”
I fumble in my purse and fish out my cell, turning it on. There are five missed calls. “Sorry. I turned it off in the movie.”
“The movie?” he snaps.
Shit.
My stomach roils. When I see the angry glare he directs at Flynn, I worry what might happen next. “We. I…”
Luckily, Flynn steps in. “I asked Lucky to come with us to a kid’s event I sang at for my niece. Take her coaching on the road. This is Laney.” Flynn locks eyes with Dylan and then points his down to the little princess we’re both still holding hands with. It serves as a gentle reminder of her presence. After a long hard glare, Dylan’s eyes drop down to Laney and it takes the tension down a notch.
“We’re going to look at a new bus. I was trying to reach you so you could come look at it.”
“A new bus?”
His jaw clenches and he searches my face. “I’m thinking about upgrading. So you have more space to put your things. You’re going to want more than just a few outfits when we’re gone for two months at a time.”
He’s assuming I’ll agree to what he asked of me last night. But now is definitely not the time to point that out. I feel Flynn’s eyes on me, too.
“You ready?”
“Umm. Sure.” I look down at Laney, who is unusually quiet. “It was very nice meeting you.”
She tugs at my arm, telling me to crouch to her level. When I do, she wraps her arms around my neck and squeezes a big hug good-bye.
I walk out of the hotel with a different man than I just walked in with, and an enormous ache in my chest. Turning back, my eyes meet with Flynn’s. How much longer can I do this to him?
Neither Dylan nor I say another word about the encounter in the lobby. Oddly, it felt like we had just moved the discussion to the back burner, where it would simmer for a while, rather than letting things come to a boil in the moment. I also didn’t mention, as we looked around at luxury buses that cost more than an apartment in Manhattan, that I hadn’t agreed to go on tour with him. The conversation was coming, I just needed to figure a few things out first.
The next morning I wake even earlier than usual. I didn’t have a chance to speak to Flynn after the tense exchange in the lobby and, taking the cowardly course of action, I went to bed before any of the guys returned to the bus after last night’s show. Mick spent the night in Austin and is flying to meet us at the next stop in Vegas, and Duff had a woman with him, so that left just me, Dylan and Flynn. Not a trio I wanted to sit around with in the tight confines on the bus.