2
The bartender slid my drink across the counter. I caught it with one hand and brought it to my mouth, taking a sip. It wasn't as strong as I would have liked, but it was alcohol, which was all that mattered.
I never needed alcohol to soothe my nerves before a performance, but tonight was different. This was the first concert my band Cherry Lips was headlining since launching our first professional, non-indie album. This was the first night we'd play our new songs in front of a live audience. Tonight had to go well. There was no room for nerves.
Leaning against the bar, I rested my back against the rail. I surveyed the room, taking in the faces of my soon-to-be audience. Almost no one was paying attention to the band on stage. For good reason. They were less than impressive.
As I scanned the room, I caught a flash of wavy, longish, brown hair — a head I’d definitely seen before. It wasn’t one of my bandmates or one of my friends coming to support me tonight. That hair was familiar in another way. I knew this guy from somewhere, but I couldn't place it.
He turned his head. I caught a glimpse of his face. A glimpse of his green eyes. My fingers went numb. I clenched my fist to keep from dropping my glass.
Liam Knight.
The green-eyed man was Liam Knight. The former lead singer ofForever Night.
The man who inspired me years ago to keep going after I'd given up on singing forever.
Cold liquid splashed over my trembling hand. I wiped it on my shirt absentmindedly, not taking my eyes off him.
I'd been staring at him too long. I was going to get caught. I had to look away.
I couldn't make myself.
I owed that man my career. My voice. My sanity, even. I hadn't had nightmares since starting Cherry Lips.
I owed him everything.
I could never let him know.
Darting my eyes to the side, I focused intently on the stage. The last thing I needed was for Liam to find me staring at him.
I found myself picking at the nail polish on my left hand. I rubbed my palms against my thighs to stop myself, the leather skirt smooth under my hands. The cherry red lacquer of my nails complimented my hair, and I didn't want it ruined the same day I'd put it on, especially before our set.
I tried to concentrate on the band playing, but my mind wandered back to the first time I'd ever met him.
Would he remember me the way I remembered him? That was unlikely. We only met the one time, years ago, and it wasn't like I was the famous one back then.
I was so absorbed in my thoughts, I didn't notice the crowd parting next to me, or see the person approaching me through the sea of people. I only noticed someone coming up beside me when a firm hand touched my arm.
My shoulders tensed. I made a motion to slap the hand away. I wasn't going to let those handsy club guys think they could get away with pawing at me without my permission.
I stopped, hand still in the air, when I saw who it was.
Liam was next to me, green eyes sparkling with good humor.
"Hey there, Cherry Lips," he said, mouth curling into a smile.
He remembered who I was. That was impossible. A five minute encounter years ago shouldn't have meant anything to a man like him.
But it had.
My left thumb scratched at the nail polish on my index finger. My musical idol was standing right in front of me. I wanted to play it off.Oh, are you a fan?I could say.
But from the glint in his eyes, he knew I recognized him.
"Hey," I said, my voice faltering. "Are you here to watch the show?"
"I'm here to watch you."
