“Austin,” I say. “You don’t have to?—”
He takes my face between his hands and stares into my eyes. “You’ve got this, Mia. Okay?”
I nod.
“I’m sorry for the things I said last night. I was jealous and scared and being a complete idiot.”
I laugh softly and shake my head.
“You belong on that stage,” he says. “They need to hear your voice. So go out there and give it everything you’ve got. And enjoy yourself doing it. Okay?”
I swallow and nod quickly, waiting for the thing he came to do: kiss these hiccups away.
I breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.
His hands drop from my face, and he steps back.
No hiccups.
I glance at Gemma, who’s ten feet away, staring at us with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape.
“That’s your cue,” Austin says as Noah announces aspecial surprise.
“Thank you,” I say, then I turn toward the stage, take a deep breath, and walk out.
26
MIA
The crowd tonightis five times the size of last night’s, and even though the stage lights are blinding me, I can see it’s almost sold out.
You belong on that stage. I feel that in my bones as I wait for the cue to begin my verse. Is it so wrong for me to be on this tour? To get a little help to do the thing I feel I’m made to do?
Noah stands closer to me than he did during rehearsal, and when we get to the chorus, he slips a hand around my waist and pulls me to face him so we’re singing to each other rather than the crowd.
My heart gallops, and my voice wavers, but the audience goes wild with whoops and cheers. I can smell alcohol on his breath, but Noah’s smile grows as we sing, and my gaze shifts behind him to where Austin, Gemma, Rose, and Kelly stand offstage, watching.
Austin’s expression is impassive. I have to turn my gaze away to focus on my breathing so I don’t mess up. As soon as the chorus is over, though, I shift my body away from Noah and toward the crowd for the bridge.
I know it’s all a performance—like Austin’s shirt gimmick—but I’m not used to it. And as I leave the stage to applause, I can still feel the places Noah’s fingers pressed into my side.
Austin’s nowhere to be seen, but Gemma smothers me with a hug and a slurry of congratulatory words, followed by Rose and Kelly doing the same. I break away and hurry to the place set up for my quick wardrobe change, searching for Austin.
Did he stop watching because he was jealous? Or was there some other reason? It’s got to be the latter. Of all people, he understands crowd-pleasing.
Then again, he didn’t kiss me before I went on stage, and it was the perfect opportunity to. What does it all mean?
Austin appears just in time, and before I know it, I’m back on stage, this time next to Kelly and Rose.
Whatever the reason for Austin’s disappearance, it doesn’t affect his performance negatively. In fact, he seems extra energetic tonight, getting closer to the crowd to touch their hands and crouch to sing to random front-row fans.
They eat it up. And I get it. One hundred percent. But all these girls and women wearing shirts with his face on them… they know Austin can sing, they know he’s a gorgeous human specimen, but do they have any idea about the other parts of him? Like how funny he is? Or how kind? How supportive? How cute he is with his mom? (I got that on full display as we walked around Paris together earlier today.) How fun his relationship with his sister Tori is?
Maybe it’s for the best they don’t. If they knew what he’d done for me flying Gemma out here, they’d lose their minds, and some of them are already crying.
I can see how Austin would worry about death threats against any woman presumptuous enough to take him off the market.
The roomfor the meet-and-greet is filled with the high-strung chatter of young females anticipating the opportunity to acquire photographic evidence they touched the physical form of Austin Sheppard.
