Annoyed, I scrolled past her messages.
In theory it might be good to have that opportunity to get into acting.
It wasn’t worth her being angry at me, though
It could never be worth that.
I walked onto the stage to a roar of applause, but my eyes were only searching for her, my head craning around to see if she was backstage.
Warm and juicy emotions slid into my chest when I saw her standing behind my band.
Rosalie was wearing the raggediest, holiest shirt known to man, hair up in a messy bun, dirty jeans.
I had never seen anyone look so tempting in all my life.
No one could ever compare to her.
I tried to ignore the rush of lust I felt at the sight of the inches of tanned skin as her T-shirt rode up.
“Come dance with me, baby girl,” I said into the mic.
I walked over and pulled Rosalie onto the stage to dance, as the drums pounded in my ears, the rhythm reverberating through my body.
With the spotlight following me, I knew she couldn’t refuse.
Pulling her into my arms just feel right, but I also felt desperate, buzzed.
“Daddy earth, sweet-green,” I sang, that old first hit of mine that Rosalie had written for me in my dorm room late one Saturday night after we’d had sex three. . . four. . .how many times?
She’d laughed as she came up with the lyrics, legs criss-crossed under her, swamped in one of my big T-shirts, riffing back and forth.
“Wait, that’s good,” I protested.
“Right,” she said. “And then we could do a music video where you’re, like, digging your arms into the dirt and wearing moss on your head.”
And then we did it and ithit, racking up a million views on TikTok in only a few days, securing me a contract and sending me into superstardom.
And it had always been her.
Singing with my arm around Rosalie just felt right, her soft sweet body nestled perfectly in mine. I could even feel the second she relaxed into me, the minute her tensed muscles unwound. She stayed longer than I dared to hope before slipping out of my arms. But I wanted to spend the whole concert that way.
It had always been her.
Suddenly I knew I had to say something. Right then. Right now. So she’d know how I felt.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” I said, my fingers tightening on my guitar strings. “But I’m going to make things right.”
And for a moment, just a moment, I almost had her, her eyes looking surprised.
“But when you’ve met the most beautiful. . .” my voice trailed off. Exactly how the fuck was I supposed to summarize Rosalie? It was impossible to summarize her.
My heart felt insanely full, juicy warm feelings spilling all over my guts.
“One day when I get you a ring,” I sung, drinking her in with my eyes.
Why had it taken me so long to realize how I felt about her?
And then suddenly she was gone.
