If love breaks one of us, let it be me.”
The crowd cheers as his voice drifts away.
“Thank you!” Dean says into the mic. He wipes the sweat off his forehead with his arm. “We’ve had a great time with you tonight, L.A. Now, who’s ready to see Ariel Allyn?” He puts his hand to his ear and the crowd roars. He looks over his shoulder at us, grins, and faces the audience once more. “That’s what we thought. It won’t be long now.”
He lifts one hand above his head in a wave, our signal to join him at the front of the stage. The guys and I leave our places to form a crooked line with him in the middle. Dean speaks, his voice echoing through the speakers. “Thanks for a great show, Los Angeles! We’ll see you all again real soon.” I watch him take a small bow over his guitar and see Drew wave his sticks in the air. Paul and I wave too, and I know my smile consumes my face. So much adrenaline is pumping through my veins right now, I don’t know what I’ll do to contain myself once we’re off stage.
Speaking of off stage, as we exit, I catch a glimpse of Heidi and her friends near the front row. They’re being so loud they’re impossible to miss. Heidi must catch me watching because she shuts up for a second. I’m not close enough to see her eyes but I’m sure they’re shooting daggers at me. It doesn’t matter. Nothing can ruin this high.
Nothing.
As soon as we’re out of sight, the crew descends upon us again. We’re stripped of everything technical and electronic, and even the Fender finds its case. I’m confused as to how it got backstage, but I’m so geeked about the show I don’t care. People rush everywhere to transform the stage for Ariel, and I realize I should get out of the way. Dean is talking to Roxanne, so I start to head in that direction. Suddenly, strong arms wrap around my waist, stopping and startling me.
“You blew me away out there.”
His voice melts over my skin, warm and soft beneath my ear. I turn around and throw my arms around him. “You’re here!”
Latson grins before ducking his head to catch my mouth with his. It’s a greedy kiss, one I’ve missed, and I pull him closer by the back of his neck. He holds me tight, clutching my waist, as I press the length of my body against his. “Surprise,” he says when we take a breath.
This night couldn’t get any better. “How long have you been here?”
“Since we talked on the phone. I was in a cab when you called.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t want to distract you. Dean needed you focused.”
“He knew?”
“Who do you think sent me this?” He holds up a backstage pass. “It pays to grow up with the lead singer.”
I look at the plastic and get hopeful. “Please tell me that’s good for tomorrow, too.”
“Definitely. Oliver is staying with Mrs. Gibson until you leave for Anaheim.”
I bounce up and down on my toes, then pull him toward me and kiss him again. I get to keep him for two whole nights.
“So, how do you feel?” Latson searches my face. “How was your first show?”
“It was …” I can’t find words. I don’t think anything I say will do the experience justice. “It consumed me.”
He gives me a gentle, knowing smile and brushes his thumb across my cheek. “You were incredible.”
Dean appears beside us. “I see you found each other.” He looks pointedly at me. “I promised you’d be together soon.”
“You did,” I say. “Thanks for delivering.”
“C’mon.” He waves us forward. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Where are we going?”
“Up to the label’s private suite. Ariel said we could watch her perform from there.”
He walks away and my jaw drops. I had hoped I would get to see some of Ariel’s show, especially after being attacked by her props. I assumed if I did it would be from the television in the dressing room or some other obscure location, not a suite. Excited, I start to follow Dean until Latson takes my hand and stops me.
“Hey.”
I face him. “What’s up?”
“Do you really want to watch Ariel?”
“Yes. Don’t you?”
He looks confused. “Isn’t there anything else you’d rather do?”
“Like what?” I know this scene is nothing new to him, but it’s shiny and sparkly to me. “I’ve never seen her perform before. I’ve also never been in a private suite. It sounds like fun.”
Latson looks disappointed, then shakes the expression away. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He starts to walk. “Sometimes I forget our experiences are different. Just because you’re on tour doesn’t mean you’ve seen it all.”
We make it out of the backstage area and into the hallway I took from the dressing room. We look left and right until we see Dean waving to us from an elevator. Once we make it inside, Latson’s fingers tighten around mine.
“So, what’d you think?” Dean turns toward Latson. “Did you notice we changed the end of “Over-Exposed”?”
“I did,” he says. “I know that transition was bothering you. The show was epic, man. A great start.”
“I thought so, too.” Dean runs his hand through his hair and gives Latson a resigned smile. “It felt like Vegas. Remember?”
Latson’s eyes go blank for a second. If I didn’t know him so well I wouldn’t have noticed. He quickly adjusts his features and nods. “Yeah. I remember.”
The elevator stops and we exit. I let Dean get a few steps ahead of us before I ask Latson, “What happened in Vegas?”
“We opened our first tour there. It was Sacred Sin’s first concert as a headliner.”
Mentally, I frown. I understand why Dean would compare his first concert with the Union to his first with Sin, but didn’t he realize it would bother Latson? I try to lighten things up. “I bet it was a rush,” I say and then pull on Latson’s hand. He leans over. “But nothing compared to tonight,” I whisper. “Hands down, Vegas blows L.A. out of the water.”
He kisses me.
When we arrive at the suite, Roxanne, Drew, and Paul are already congregated by a small bar just off the entrance. The room is filled with people I don’t know, some of whom are already seated outside on the suite’s private balcony. The place resembles a tiny apartment, with a bathroom, the wet bar, and a bunch of overstuffed furniture. A flat screen mounted from the ceiling in one corner broadcasts the empty stage below, and a variety of hors d’oeuvres are set out on a small dining table.
“There they are!” Paul gets loud. “Get your asses over here and do a shot with us.” He hands Dean a glass filled with amber liquid, then me, and then Latson. “Gunnar! How in the hell are ya?” Paul thumps Latson on the back. Then, he holds up his glass and we all follow suit. “To the Renegade tour! May the groupies be hot, Betty be swift, and the music rock!”
“Hear! Hear!” Glasses clink together.
I sniff my shot before I send it down my throat. It smells like whiskey; I bet it’s a Three Wise Men. I toss it back and grimace. Yep. I was right.
I hand my glass back to the bartender. “Who’s Betty?” I ask no one in particular.
“The tour bus.” Latson stares at his empty glass. “We always named them Betty.”
Jesus. Couldn’t they have come up with another name?
“Let’s go get seats,” I suggest and pull on his arm. “I’d rather sit out on the balcony than in here.”
“Gunnar? Is that you?”
A man dressed in a button down and jeans approaches. His dirty blonde hair is styled, and he flashes a perfect white smile.
“Caleb,” Latson says. I can sense the irritation in his tone, and, judging by the size of the Rolex on Caleb’s wrist, I assume he’s with the record label.
“Holy shit.” The man shakes his head in disbelief. “Where have you been?”
“Oh, you know. Here and there.”
“I thought you fell off the face of the earth.”
“Nah,” Latson gets sarcastic. “I just disappeared from music.”
Caleb’s smile disappears. “You know my hands were tied.”
“Yep. That’s what you said two years ago.” Latson sets his shot glass down on the bar and pushes it forward with two fingers. “It’s good to know you’re sticking with the same story.”
The record exec looks uncomfortable as Latson turns to me. “Let’s find those seats you wanted.” He sets his hand against my back and starts to usher me toward the balcony.