‘Jayden.’ I can’t work him out and the wariness in my tone is clear.
‘Have you ever watched him perform?’ Steel grey eyes flit from mine to the stage, then back again.
‘Not since we were kids.’ My shaking head reinforces my words.
‘You’re in for a treat then.’ He clicks his fingers and a waiter arrives instantaneously. ‘Champagne please. Not the usual shit. Give me the best you’ve got. I don’t care how much it costs.’
I offer the waiter a reassuring smile because frankly, he looks terrified of Jayden, whatever that’s about. He turns on his heels almost tripping out of the box in his quest for the drink.
When my head angles back to the stage, Jayden’s face is almost touching mine. ‘I hope you’re going to be good for him. That you understand he’s not going to have much time for a relationship.’
Stupidly, his remark sends a surge of heat pulsating through me, finishing with a spectacular rose-coloured finale scorching my cheeks.
Before I can utter a response, his features furrow into a ferocious frown as he whispers, ‘Just don’t break his fucking heart – again.’
My head does a double take, my neck creaking at the whiplash effect. Hello? The man abandoned me hours after popping my much protected cherry. The same fucking day I lost my parents.
A surge of adverse energy rises inside. ‘What the…’
Before I can continue a thunderous beat erupts from the stage. The main man is on his way.
The waiter returns with the champagne in a chrome cooler. He sets two flutes on the rest either side of us but neither of us so much as give him a second glance.
With bated breath I wait to see the man of my fucking dreams, literally, performing in front of thousands.
Ryan steps out from behind a thick crimson curtain, takes a half bow and smiles with a confidence that oozes both gratitude and sheer sexuality.
Ovaries combust from every direction, my own included.
In the short time he’s been backstage, someone’s cut his hair. The way it sweeps higher, revealing sensual dark swirling eyes, sets my insides alight.
He taps the microphone in front of him with the same fingers that were inside me only an hour earlier and a wicked thrill sweeps through me at the memory.
‘Welcome to The Colosseum. Thank you so much for coming tonight. It’s my absolute pleasure to perform for you.’ Every word that rolls from his tongue sounds sexual. That Irish lilt, so familiar at home, stands out a mile here.
No wonder he was votedGQ’s most eligible bachelor. Even if I didn’t know what he was capable of, I’d still be drowning in my own juices right now.
The crowd erupts with applause and for a split second I see a flash of exultation from the eighteen-year-old Ryan I once knew. Confident though he was, he was never arrogant. Self-assured but eternally grateful and graceful. It only adds to his appeal.
The second the noise dies down he continues, ‘I can’t tell you how good it feels being back.’ As the crowd roars, my heart plummets to my feet. Of course he must feel amazing up there.
How can I compete with that level of adoration?
The excitement.
The fulfilment.
The sheer electric buzz.
I can’t.
No matter what we have. Even I can appreciate how exhilarating it must feel centre stage, worshipped by a myriad of adoring fans.
Ryan’s gaze travels upwards, homing in on the box I sit mesmerised in. I raise the glass Jayden poured for me in a toast to him.
He struts towards the edge of the stage leaning towards the crowd with his microphone in hand. He winks conspicuously, like he’s about to divulge his deepest darkest secret and the audience fall stonily silent with anticipation.
‘Tonight is super special for me, guys.’
