He laughs before pulling the headphones over my ears and clipping the small black box to the front pocket of my jeans, while I will myself not to physically react to finally feeling his hands on me again.
“This is a body pack,” he explains. “This will help with the sound if you decide you do want to watch from back here. You can customize what you hear—it could be everything, or it could be just Josh’s vocals, just my drums…or you could also tell them you want to hear what’s in my in-ears—literally whatever you want.” I grin and he shrugs. “Thought it might be cool for you to hear what we hear.”
“It’sverycool,” I say. “Thank you.”
“This is Adam,” he says, motioning with his thumb to the man standing beside us. “He’s our back-of-house sound guy. Tell him what you want to hear, and he’ll get you set up.” Eric rushes back to his place on stage as I introduce myself to Adam.
“So,” he says. “What’ll it be?”
“Give me what Eric has,” I say. He messes with a few things on a tablet and before they start their next song, I suddenly hear a voice say, “‘Black’ starting in 3, 2, 1…”in my headphones and when they start the song, I hear a very loud, very steadyclick, click, clickwith Max’s guitar and Josh’s vocals quieter in the background.
“Good?” Adam asks and I nod a little too excitedly. He laughs and says, “Cool. Let me know if you want a different mix tonight.” I thank him and he disappears backstage.
I look back to the stage, and I feel the moment it hits me—like a switch flicking on—this is it. This is what they’ve been working so hard for. It’s a strange kind of magic, and I still find myself unable to believe I’m here.
TWELVE
Eric
? /CARNAL/House on Sand - Nothing More ?
“Ithink this goes without saying, but just in case it doesn’t, Tyler is off limits for the duration of this tour,” I say, breaking the silence that has fallen over us in the greenroom.
“And after the tour?” Josh asks as he digs though his bag, looking for who the hell knows what. I hate the interest I hear in his voice. Not that I’m surprised—Ty is incredible, so it only makes sense he’d show interest in her, but my stomach still twists at the thought of her with someone else—especially someone I consider family. Someone I’d have towatchher be with as long as this band stays together.
“I don’t even want to think about that right now,” I say, picking at my nails.
“Shit,” Josh says. “I need to text…” he stops, snapping his fingers in the air like it’ll help him remember whatever the hell he's forgotten. “Why can’t I ever remember her name?”
“Who?” Kevin asks.
“My new assistant,” Josh says, patting his pockets in search of his phone.
“Kate,” we all say in unison.
“Yes,” he says, snapping his fingers and pointing in my direction. “Kate.”
“I thought you couldn’t touch her?” Max asks, turning the conversation back to Tyler.
“Just because I can’t, doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”
“Why didn’t you talk her out of it?” Josh asks, and I sigh.
“She set her boundaries,” I say. “I chose to respect them.”
“Damn dude,” Kevin says with a laugh. “You’ve got itbad. If I didn’t think it was true before tonight, I knew it the moment I saw her sitting at your kit.”
I don’t respond. I don’t need to. These are the people who know me better than I know myself, and they know how long it’s been since I’ve given my heart to someone. Since I’vewantedto be with someone.
Since I let someone other than my drum tech, Leo, touch my shit. I sensed she had some kind of connection to the drums when I saw her studying them, but I knew it the moment her fingers twitched, and watching her let loose and lose herself in the music—inmymusic—there’s no way this woman isn’t my fucking soul mate. Watching her play was such a turn-on that if it weren’t for the contract, I’d have sat on that throne and pulled her onto my lap and taken her right there in front of everyone.
Maybe I’ll be lucky, and this will all turn out to be a crush—an infatuation—and the more time we spend together, the less I’ll feel this…pulltoward her. The feeling that she’s my true north. The thing I’ve been spending my entire life searching for. My salvation.
Or, more likely, my damnation.
****
As we make our way to the stage, I can hear the hum of the crowd, like a restless beast pacing just behind the walls. I can feel their energy already, just waiting for the first note. I twirl the sticks in my hand, the polished wood warm and familiar against my skin.
