“See?” I say lightly. “Easy.”
She still doesn’t look at me.
But she heard me.
She definitely heard me.
And damn… something pangs in my chest.
***
During a break between songs, the crowd crushes forward again. Now that people recognize me, a girl with a glittery foam cowboy hat leans over the rail. “Bryce! Selfie?”
I step closer.
But she slips.
Falls sideways.
Right into Annabelle.
Annabelle slams backward into the rail with a startled gasp.
But from the angle? From the cameras? From the fans filming?
It looks likeI shoved her.
Great.
Flashbulbs explode.
People gasp.
Security rushes in like we’re in a hostage situation.
Cameras catch every angle.
“Shit,” I mutter, grabbing Annabelle’s arm. “Come on.”
“Bryce…”
“Nope. Not debating. We’re leaving.”
I take her hand and pull her toward the side access door. Fans reach for us. Security clears a path. Someone yells, “Did he push her?”
Absolutely not.
My jaw is clenched so tight I’m surprised my teeth don’t snap.
We break out into a dim alley behind the building. The door shuts. The noise muffles.
Annabelle leans against the wall, breathing hard.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods. “Yes. I think so.”
She looks shaken.
