I close the email and go to the next. A list of cities and dates pop up. My eyes widen as I read them: Los Angeles. Anaheim. Houston. Vegas. New Orleans. Nashville. Atlanta. Tampa. Raleigh. New York. Boston. D.C. Detroit. The list seems endless.
My pulse starts to race. “I’ve barely traveled out of my home state. This is … it’s …”
“An amazing chance for you.”
I was going to say overwhelming, but the look in his eyes makes me bite my tongue. He’s looking at me but through me, like he’s focused on a memory.
“The first time you step on stage, any time you step on stage, it’s electric,” he says. “You’ll feel it in your bones, in your veins. Performing is one of the best things that ever happened to me. There’s no better rush, no bigger high.” His gaze finds my face. “I don’t know how else to describe it, but it will be like that for you, too. The music will take over, creating you instead of you creating it. The feeling won’t come close to your imagination, but it will try.”
I’m moved by his passionate words. I know it’s killing him not to play. It’s almost as if he wants me to do it for him, so he can experience it again.
“You’ll know what I’m talking about, after your first show in L.A.”
I toss my phone onto the seat beside us and set my hands against his chest. “You really want me to go, don’t you?”
“The truth?”
“Always.”
“I want you to go for you, and I want you to stay for me.” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “I have to listen to my head and support you, because if I listen to my heart …” He hesitates. “I’ll never let you go.”
My breath hitches. If anyone had those feelings for me before, they never said them. Latson doesn’t want to let me go while every other man has watched me walk away. I can feel my heart rearranging itself, to make a permanent place for him. “I’m kinda falling for you, too,” I confess.
His eyes grow intense as he slides his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me close. “I’m going to have a sign made that says you belong to me. You’ll need to carry it with you everywhere you go.”
I smile. “That might be difficult. How about you loan me one of your shirts? As long as it smells like you, I’ll wear it all the time.”
He makes a sound low in his throat and brushes his lips against mine. “I like the idea of you wearing me.”
I close my eyes as his mouth skims over my chin, traces my jaw, and lands on my neck. “I do, too.”
“Maybe you should get my name tattooed somewhere,” he says between kisses. “So it’s permanent.”
I laugh. “That takes wearing you to a whole new level.”
“I’m surprised there’s no ink on this body.”
I lean back a bit. “Is that a problem? I never planned on getting a tattoo.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Never?”
“Never.”
He glances at his arm, covered from wrist to shoulder. “Why? Do they turn you off?”
I shake my head.
“Do they turn you on?”
I bite my lip and slowly run one finger up his arm. “You have no idea.”
His eyes flash as his hands slide to my hips. “I’m going to miss the hell out of you,” he breathes.
Have I decided to go? In a roundabout way, I guess I have. I know I have his support no matter what I decide and that means the world to me. “You said you wouldn’t let me stay.”
“Can you blame me?” His hands leave my hips and start to untuck my shirt. “I get to date a hot musician who wears my clothes.”
His fingers brush my bare waist, sending a wave of electricity over my skin. “It seems like you want me to wear no clothes.”
“Only when you’re with me.”
He pulls my shirt over my head, and I wrap my arms around his neck. I’m still sitting on his lap, and my head falls back as his tongue traces the edge of my bra. “We need to make the most of our time,” he says, his voice muffled. “Starting now.”
“Umm hmm,” I agree.
His hands travel up my back as he continues to kiss me, pulling my bra straps down my shoulders. “Backseat?” he murmurs.
I lift my head and start to scoot off his lap. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Seventeen
“I’m having second thoughts.”
I pull my eyes from the sparkling diamonds in front of me to look at Pete. “Stop. Jules is going to love the ring you picked out for her.”
“Mr. Elliott,” the sales woman interrupts. “Remember, here at Tiffany’s, we have a thirty-day refund policy. If your fiancée prefers a different style, you can always exchange your purchase.”
“Thank you,” Pete leans forward to read her name tag, “Ellen. I hope that won’t be necessary. I’ve spent too much time here as it is.”
I roll my eyes at my brother as I go back to looking at the jewelry. We’ve been here less than two hours. I’ve had fun standing in for Jules and trying on different rings for size. The one my brother chose is a one-carat square diamond on a plain platinum band. It’s beautiful and elegant, just like Jules. She’s going to love it.
“Here you are, sir.” Another sales associate delivers two months’ of his salary in an unmistakable blue bag. “Good luck with your proposal.” She smiles.
“Thanks,” he says and takes the dainty handles. “Although, her answer is a sure thing.”
My eyes meet my brother’s and we start to laugh. The sales ladies give us curious looks. We didn’t tell them he had already tied the knot.
As we leave the store, I sigh. So many pretty things in one place. It reminds me of the last diamonds I wore – the earrings Derek gave me. I wonder if anyone picked them up off the floor at the wedding reception. I’m sure they weren’t cheap. Or, maybe they were fake. He said they weren’t, but he certainly was.
“Now we need to come up with a way to break the news to Jules,” Pete says as he holds the door open. “You said her proposal needs to be epic.”
I walk past him and out into the hustle of Michigan Avenue. Little does he know I have news of my own. I haven’t told him about the tour yet. I was going to bring it up this morning after breakfast, but he suggested ring shopping before I could. I didn’t want to ruin the trip, in case he got pissy about me taking off across the country with three guys I don’t know.
“You said you had a couple ideas,” I say. “What are they?”
“At the top of the Ferris wheel on Navy Pier, or on the observation deck of the Willis Tower.”
My brow furrows. “Does she like heights?”
He shrugs. “I thought those were unique places. I don’t want to do it at a restaurant or rent a scoreboard. Jules doesn’t do sports. She does fitness.”
“What about sky writing?” I ask. “You could hire a plane and have it pull a banner over the lake.”
He frowns. “I just dropped some serious cash on this ring.” He holds the bag with one finger. “I think hiring a plane is out of my price range. Unless you know a pilot.”
Unfortunately, I don’t.
“Any other ideas?” Pete asks.
I tilt my head in thought as I keep up with foot traffic. “When did you want to do this? I need some time to think.”
“I’m not in a big hurry. But I’d like to do it before we head home for Christmas.”
I smile. My parents are going to be so excited. “I can come up with something before December. Especially if I’m going to be spending a lot of time on a bus.”
“Why would you be on a bus?”
We stop at the edge of the sidewalk to wait for the street light. I guess now is as good a time as any to tell my brother I’m leaving. I look up at him. “I have some news.”
His questioning look doesn’t hide his annoyance. I’m sure he assumes what I have to say is bad. “What did he do?” he asks.
“Who?”
“Latson.”
“Nothing! He’s being very supportive.”
“Of?”
I take a deep breath. “You know Dean?”
Pete nods.
“He’s going on tour. He’s opening for Ariel Allyn, and he wants me to play in his band.”
My brother’s eyes grow wide. “The Ariel Allyn?”
“Is there another?”
In one quick swoop, Pete wraps me in a bear hug and lifts me off the ground. “You’re going to be famous!”
People standing next to us start to back away. “Put me down,” I laugh. “I’m not going to be famous.”