Good gravy. No wonder his head is the size of the sun. These people would genuinely revolve around him if given the chance. But I’m not stupid. You stare at the sun too long, and bad things happen. And if you try to touch it? You’re toast.
So, memo to my unconscious brain, no more dreams about kissing Austin.
The crowd may not be cheering for me, but the exhilaration of their energy can’t help but get to me. The music starts, and it’s go time. Rehearsals with Rose and Kelly were fun, but this? It’s like nothing else I’ve ever done. We’re moving and singing in tandem, and hearing and seeing everything come together is an experience I want to bottle up so I can have it forever. I almost forget how much I dislike the lyrics.
The only time I experience a momentary glitch is when the crowd chants, “Shirt! Shirt!”
Still singing, Austin points to his shirt and cheers erupt. He grabs the part covering his chest, then yanks it forward. It rips right off, putting on full display, thanks to the stage lights, his glistening, well-formed physique.
He wads up the shirt, then tosses it into the crowd. A sea ofhands reaches to catch it, a vicious pack of wolves fighting over a piece of meat.
Austin turns and looks straight at me, gives a little tug at the waistband of his pants, then winks.
Rose nudges me with an elbow, and I realize I’ve stopped singing.
I rush back in with them, and Austin turns away as quickly as he turned toward me.
My skin is tacky with sweat by the time we sing the last song on the set list. The crowd claps, whistles, and cheers when the song finishes.
“Thank you all,” he says breathlessly. “Thank you for coming and for singing along with me. Let’s give it up for my backup vocalists over here!” He points toward us, and there’s a crescendo of cheers. “Rose Johnson, Mia Sawyer, and Kelly Clyde. Aren’t they incredible?”
More cheering breaks out as we all wave, my cheeks aching from smiling.
To be fair, Austin probably could have asked them to give it up for a shriveled bunch of grapes, and they’d cheer, but still. This feelsreallygood.
Hopefully, my dreams tonight will be full of this instead of Austin.
8
AUSTIN
I runoff stage to an entire venue of cheering, my heart pounding with adrenaline. I can’t believe all these people showed up forme. Last time, I was the act they had to sit through to get to the real reason they were there. Now Iamthat reason.
I just wish it was my actual songs they were cheering for.
But I’m not going to dwell on that right now. Tonight has been a win.
Rose, Kelly, and Mia are all hugging each other as I make it to where the crowd can’t see me anymore. Mia’s the first one to break off, and she turns to me with a huge grin.
I don’t even hesitate, pulling her into my arms. I’m on a post-concert high. These things must be forgiven under the circumstances.
She’s momentarily stunned but recovers enough to return it. “You were amazing!”
I tighten my hold. That’s a huge compliment coming from her.
“And your pants stayed up,” she adds, pulling back to look at me.
“It was a close call. But hey, you didn’t get the hiccups, either. Double victory.”
I glance at Rose and Kelly, who are both watching this interaction. The high that led to the impulsive hug with Mia has diminished slightly, but if I don’t hug the others, it’ll be weird.
Not like I mind hugging them. I really like Kelly and Rose. But it’s different with Mia. Maybe because she shoved me into a pool the first time we met.
I hug Kelly, then Rose, thanking them for making the performance as smooth as it was, particularly for being the tour opener.
“Crushed it,” Paul says, gripping my shoulder and smiling. “Quick bathroom break and a drink. People are already lining up for the meet-and-greet.”
Mia looks at Rose. “Do we go to the meet-and-greet?”
