"There's nothing wrong with hiring a session guitarist to go on tour with us," Gael replied.
"Can we not fight about this now?"
Gael put his arm around my shoulders and tugged me close. "Isn't everything always a fight with you?"
Before I could push my brother away, Nathan called out for him, getting his attention. With one last concerned look, Gael took off to join our bandmate.
Maybe my brother wasn't one hundred percent wrong. Maybe it wouldn't be bad to have someone else play guitar while I sang. I'd be able to have more fun running around on stage if I didn't have to worry about playing. But the band dynamic was great the way it was. I didn't want, or need, anyone else coming in and ruining that.
Now that the performance was over, I made my way back down the stairs, to the pit. A small glimmer of hope sparked inside me. I didn't want to get my hopes up, but maybe…
I pushed through the set of doors. The bodyguard nodded at me. The audience was slowly making their way to the exit. I scanned the room, looking for wavy brown hair. Nothing.
Disheartened, I returned to the backstage. Gael waved at me.
"Nate says we're heading up to that VIP lounge to party," he called out to me. "You joining us?"
"I will in a minute," I said.
First I needed to find the artist lounge and change out of my sweat dampened clothes.
The backstage of the club was like a maze, but since we'd played here a few times, I knew where to go. I maneuvered my way through the chaos, deftly avoiding crew members and equipment. I reached the closed door with a placard announcing it was the artist lounge.
I expected to find the room empty of people, with a few sofas, tables and dressing room stands, along with bottles of water and some snacks for the band members before the show.
I put my hand on the door, opening it.
I took in a sharp breath.
Liam stood in the middle of the room.
I stopped, frozen in the doorway.
The bodyguards and staff had let him through. They must have known who he was, just as I had.
He was waiting for me.
"You were great out there," Liam said. He quirked a half-smile, as if to saygreatwasn't the word he'd planned on using.
My hearted thumped madly. "Thanks," I replied numbly.
Liam scanned me up and down, gaze lingering in certain, more intimate, places. I was acutely aware of every drop of sweat soaking through my clothes, every stringy piece of hair clinging to my cheeks. I was a mess.
Judging from the heat in Liam's eyes, he liked that mess.
"What did you think of the show?" I asked, aiming for composed and utterly failing. At least I could chalk my labored breath up to the performance. I could pretend it had nothing to do with the way his searching eyes bore into me. "Was it up to your standards?"
"You blew the roof off. I've rarely seen a crowd go that wild for a brand new band."
"We've been hot in the indie scene for a while," I said. "We've got fans from our old days still following us around. They were really excited when we got a record deal."
"The fans sounded like they wanted a second encore."
"Not tonight. The guys are already upstairs on the second floor lounge getting trashed."
"Are you going to join them?" he asked.
"I need a change of clothes first," I said, slowly picking up my bag tucked away in the corner.
