“He blocked me on everything, totally ghosted, and the press started sniffing around more. Weird rumors were suddenly springing up.” Arden nods again. “And now this footage.”
Jax’s expression stays hollow. “I don’t even remember that night, let alone a camera. Luke’s notorious for filming everything under the guise of ‘memories,’ but I’m starting to wonder how many lives he’s actually used those memories to destroy.”
“Where can we find him when he’s not working?” Arden looks determined, and I have a feeling Luke is going to regret all of this very soon.
Jaxon sighs, “I’m not certain, but he spends a lot of time at this high-roller club in Vegas. That’s his favorite playground. You could try it.”
Arden huffs out a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? I didn’t even need to leave?” She glares in my direction. “Well, I guess it’s time for me to head home.”
Jax chimes in, “After the show, right, lovely?” That English charm back in full effect.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” She winks at him. The display makes me nauseous. It’s a performance I’m tired of watching.
“We’ll see you out there,” I cut in, standing to signal our departure. Jaxon and Arden exchange a glance that hangs in the airfar longer than necessary before she and I leave him alone to prepare for the show.
Chapter 25
ARDEN
The bass hits so hard I can feel it in my ribs. Sweat slicks the back of my neck. The lights blur my vision, the crowd roars, and every cell in my body feels like it’s vibrating in time with the music.
Jaxon is magnetic on and off the stage. Wild, untouchable chaos wrapped in golden light as he sings songs about angst and rebellion and survival. His eyes scan the crowd, taking time to lock with the gazes of girls who look like they might pass out at any moment. They scream and jump at the chance to share his air; some of them are even crying. It’s fascinating, observing it all from our viewpoint next to the stage.
Months ago, I was like all the other girls at this concert. Sitting on my couch, watching videos of Jaxon Wilde performing this exact song and daydreaming about what it might be like to lock eyes with him or hear him say my name. Now I’m backstage at a fucking Roman amphitheater watching him bounce around in front of thousands of people. And this is just a typical day.
Meanwhile, Locke is still staring at me with that “don’t test me” look. I know exactly what it’s about. He’s still annoyed I didn’t shut down the rock star’s flirting. Even as I try to lose myself in the music, I can’t shake the weight of his glare.
“You’re still on that?” I ask, unable to hide the hint of a smile playing at my lips. “It was five minutes of harmless banter, Locke. It’s not like I was planning a getaway.”
He doesn’t say anything, but his jaw ticks. It just felt nice to be admired by someone I’ve respected for a long time. Though my “reminders” don’t seem to do anything for his ego.
Jax is definitely playing to the side of the stage where we’re standing. Every time his eyes land on me, there’s an intentional, heavy focus that says he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s hard notto be a little amused by the sheer confidence of it. I half-expect him to address me directly as he lifts the mic again, but he averts his gaze to scan the crowd. “You,” he says, pointing. “Third row, red crop top. Yeah, you. Come on up here, love.”
The girl is beaming, looking completely shell-shocked by her luck, and Jaxon leans into it with practiced charm. He gives her his full attention, smiling from ear to ear as he asks her to choose his next song. She frantically yells out a single from his first album. It’s funny: an hour ago, he was just a guy we were sitting on a couch with, and now he’s back to being the public property of a few thousand people.
It’s a bit of a reality check. For a second there, I’d let the eye contact go to my head, thinking I was somehow part of the show. Watching him pull a random girl up reminds me that this is just what he does. It’s his job to make everyone feel chosen. I glance at Locke, making sure my face is a mask of bored indifference. The last thing I need is his sensing that I was even remotely caught up in the hype.
Locke watches the girl reach the stage, then looks back at me, the ‘don’t test me’ glare finally fading. He leans in close to whisper in my ear. “He’s good at that. Making everyone feel like they’re the only person in the room. It’s quite the show.” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering. “I think I prefer you back here in the dark with me, though.”
Goosebumps rise on my arms like he just slid his fingertips down my spine. He barely even touched me, but my body is acting like it’s been waiting all night for this moment.
On stage, Jaxon’s energy shifts. The way he pulls the girl in close to dance feels less like a rehearsed stunt and more like they’re sharing an actual moment. It’s a different vibe… softer, somehow, than performances of his I’ve seen before. I study them, my head cocked to the side, wondering what the hell I’m actually watching.
When the song ends, he hands her his guitar pick and whispers something in her ear that makes her face light up. Instead of headingback to the floor, she comes beaming over to our side of the stage, clutching the pick like a trophy. She looks completely breathless, wide-eyed and eager for whatever comes next. I can’t help but offer her a genuine smile as I introduce myself and Locke; her excitement is too infectious to ignore.
The final chord rings out, vibrating through the stone floor until the lights plunge us into sudden, ringing darkness. The roar of the crowd is deafening, with cheers echoing off the ancient stone walls. It feels like the whole damn city is shaking.
In the dim blue glow of the stage rear, I see Jaxon casually drape an arm around the girl’s shoulders, leading her toward the exit with that effortless, rock star swagger.
I’m still wondering who that girl is to him as Locke steps in close behind me. I try to pretend I don’t notice and follow the rest of the crew down the hallway, but Locke’s hand grabs my wrist, and I know we won’t be going anywhere.
I turn to look at him, but he’s already backing me into the shadows. Past speakers and black trunks with silver metal edges, until my spine hits something hard and cold.
Locke presses his entire body against mine, pinning me to the wall. The sudden movement steals my breath. “How do I always end up in this position with you?” I gasp as he lifts a hand, his fingers gently dragging along my jawline and down my neck.
He leans in close, a low growl lacing his words as his lips hover near my ear. “Jaxon’s a great performer. He can make anyone feel special.” His tone is rougher now, lacking the annoyance and leaning into pure possession. “But I think I’m better at reminding you what’s real.”
I arch my back slightly, letting him feel how much I crave his weight against me. He grinds his hips into me harder, and my fingers curl into his t-shirt.
