Chloe and I survey our handiwork from a cordoned off VIP area, also heavily manned with burly, radio-clad men sporting blindingly bright high-vis jackets.
‘Six down, two to go,’ Chloe shouts in my ear to be heard over the noise, her face flush with excitement. In the week she’s been here, she’s flourished. Exuberant and increasingly light-hearted, she’s delegating more of her work, interviewing more staff for new positions to lighten her load. She’s really blossoming into her role as the CEO of a global events management company.
I am as proud of her as I am of Ryan.
I’ve never believed in true love. Probably because I’ve never witnessed it or experienced it myself. To me, there was only ever lust and sex. Marriage was something people did out of convenience, not because of a burning desire to tie themselves to another person.
My parents separated when I was a toddler, so I don’t remember ever having been loved. Now I don’t know how I ever lived without it, even if Chloe still hasn’t said those three special words to me out loud.
With Chloe, I feel whole. She gets me. She knows my past and understands I’m not perfect. Hell, she more than anyone can relate to that. I feel like I’ve finally found my home. With her. In her.
We haven’t spoken about what happens after the tour yet. It lingers in the air between us like a wisp of smoke neither of us is willing or able to grasp, but I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page. She was looking at offices in LA, after all.
Declan came up trumps with Lula and her visa arrangements. If she’s willing to put the work in, there is an alternative to us having to get married. When I get back to LA I’ll break the news that we don’t have to go through with the sham wedding, after all. She was so averse to going back to Mexico, she would have compromised her own happiness tying herself to me, well, on paper at least. Now she won’t have to compromise anything. And I’ll have fulfilled my promise to Sofia.
Now I’ve found love, I can’t imagine tying myself to someone I don’t feel that way about. Lula deserves the chance to tie herself to whomever she pleases, not because she fears deportation.
The urge to confess everything to Chloe is still eating me alive, but I can’t. Not yet. Not until the details are finalised. If she finds out I’m technically engaged, she will freak out, especially after what Ethan did to her. I’ve never touched Lula, nor ever would. She’s like a sister to me, but would Chloe see it that way given her past experiences? Highly unlikely.
The only issue outstanding now is this dirty business with my artists. Declan reckons he’s close to identifying who’s behind it, but I can’t truly relax until that’s sorted. With any bit of luck, by the time we get to Edinburgh for the seventh concert, I’ll have crossed my t’s and dotted my i’s.
Only then will I be in a position to ask Chloe to move in with me. Because now I have her, I don’t want to spend another day apart from her.
My palm presses against her lower spine. Sparks ignite like lit kindling doused in diesel. ‘Come on, we have about thirty minutes before our siblings come looking for us, unless you want to listen to another round of how in love my brother is with your sister?’ I say.
She doesn’t object as I nudge her past the security. ‘Where are we going?’
‘To wait in the limo.’ My palm drops to the curve of her bum and squeezes.
Blue eyes light, sensing an opportunity. ‘I see,’ she purrs.
With everyone’s attention fixed on the stage, we’re barely noticed as we thread our way out. Just two more Ryan Cooper fans. Anonymity is a luxury I’m going to miss dearly.
‘You must be tired if you want to retire to the limo, I guess?’ Chloe teases. She knows damn well the only thing I’m tired of is having to wait to be inside her again.
‘I’m tired of having to behave myself in public when all I want to do is devour you. We need to make the most of these opportunities until we come out.’
‘And when will that be, Mr Commitment-phobe? Don’t think I don’t know why you’re holding out on me…’
‘Because we’re smack bang in the middle of the biggest gig of your life and I’m trying to protect your reputation?’ And sort my life out in the process, of course. Not that I can tell her. Not yet, at least. A sliver of shame ripples through me.
Tell her.
No. Why risk her grasping the completely wrong idea and flying off the handle when she’s finally opening up to me? Allowing me full access to the fragile heart that’s been tucked behind the high, cold walls she spent years erecting.
‘No.’ She slaps my arm gently before grabbing my ass. ‘Because I think secretly you thrive on sneaking around. Admit it, it turns you on doing something you shouldn’t be doing. Or doing someone, I should say.’
‘Well, if you fuck me in the limo, at least we can tick car sex off the bucket list.’
We half walk, half jog towards the car as the sky darkens. Thunder rumbles in the distance, barely audible over the thrumming basslines of Ryan’s band. The rain’s never far away in Ireland.
I grab Chloe by the hand and up the pace towards the waiting limo, flanked by two SUVs and more security. We’ve been caught out before by crazed fans. Pierce, Ryan’s personal bodyguard, vowed it would never happen again.
The driver spots us approaching and steps out of the vehicle, followed by one of the security detail from the SUV.
I’d recognise that shaggy crop of blond hair anywhere. His stance is all wrong. Too aggressive. His jaw’s set hard in a grim line, and there’s a coldness in his metallic glare that supersedes any display of emotion he’s ever expressed before.
‘Colton? What are you doing here? Is everything ok?’ Unease stirs in my gut. Something’s not right. Colton should be in LA with Lula, protecting her. Not 5,000 miles away here in Ireland.
