I wanted to leave. I wasn’t emotionally prepared to handle whatever thefuckthis was. But I was immobilized in my chair as he made his introduction and then began to sing.
And make no mistake: he was singing for me, and for me only.
It reminded me of that first show in Austin, when his eyes were locked onto mine and his voice reverberated directly into my soul. And then I started listening to the words.
Something inside me changed.
It was like I’d been in a fog this past month, my thoughts scrambled and my head cloudy. Suddenly, as Riot told me how he felt through the power of song, I saw everything in sharper clarity. My insecurities melted away, and were replaced by the same attraction and affection that had brought us together in the first place.
By the time the song ended, I had fallen in love with him all over again.
There was chaos and noise all around me from the fans screaming for more, but Riot didn’t care about them. He didn’t care about his guitar, which made a cracking noise when he dropped it to the floor. As he hopped down from the stage and stepped forward, the only thing he cared about wasme.
I didn’t remember getting to my feet, but he was at my eye-level and we were now inches apart. Close enough to touch, although Riot didn’t make a move. His eyes searched my face, full of hope—and fear.
“Do you remember the first thing I ever said to you?” he asked.
I shook my head, unable to form any words.
“It was in Austin, right after the show ended. I said: don’t forget me. Because I’ll always remember you.” His chest heaved with a deep breath. “When I said that, I thought I’d never see you again. Ihatedthat feeling. That’s why I invited you to join us on tour. Because I couldn’t stand the thought of you leaving the show and going about your life without me. Withoutus.”
I nodded slowly, urging him on, needing to hear him say it.
“I don’twantyou to leave,” he whispered. Like a secret. Or a prayer. “I only said that because I was afraid you were bored of us. I want you to stay with us. In Miami while we record our next album, and on the next tour, and forever, and every moment in between. I could never do what Dana and Vi do. Being apart for months at a time. Fuck, it’s only been an hour or two since you left the dressing room and I’ve wanted to smash my guitar against the wall.”
“I think you broke it.” I pointed up at the stage. “It made a weird noise.”
“There are other guitars,” he said, finally pulling me into his arms. “But only one of you. Only one muse.”
“Fucking kiss her already!” a familiar voice shouted.
I twisted around and did a double-take. “Milo?Cash?”
“Ignore us and finish what you two were doing,” Cash insisted. For once, he was all smiles.
Riot’s hand slid up the back of my neck, grabbing a handful of hair so he could twist my mouth around. He crushed his lips against mine, a kiss of apology and regret, yet full of warmth and love and hope. His grip was strong and commanding, like he never intended to let me go.
“ENCORE!” someone shouted. “ENCORE!”
“ONE MORE SONG!” someone else screamed.
The patrons began chanting, demanding more music. Especially when more people realized that both Cash and Milo were here. Milo leaped onto the stage and raised both hands in the air to call for quiet.
“Sorry everyone, but this was a one-man show,” he announced. “And we have to get out of here and tell our muse that we love her.”
I blinked. “You love me?”
Milo’s eyes widened and he clamped a palm over his mouth like he’d accidentally revealed a secret. “Fuuuuuck.”
“I do,” Riot said, “in case that wasn’t clear from the song.”
“I love you, too.” The words came up out of my chest. There was no possible way I could have stopped them.
Then Riot spun me around and shoved me into Cash’s waiting arms. The bassist licked his lips and then said, “I’ve loved you since that day at the thrift shop. But I didn’t know it until tonight.”
“The sex was that good?” I joked. “You loved me the moment you were inside of me?”
His face darkened.
