Page 134 of Keep Me Close

Knox leans in and kisses my forehead. “Go shine, baby.”

I smile up at him, because somehow that simple phrase feels more powerful than any pep talk ever could.

It’s only after he disappears that I move toward the curtain. My pulse thunders, but not with panic.

Well, not exactly. It’s a mixture of adrenaline and hope.

Carefully, I edge toward a gap in the curtain and peek out at the packed theater. There are rows of stylishly attired people filling the seats as the orchestra pit hums below, the musicians checking instruments one final time.

My heart stutters as I scan the crowd. Knox is in the front section with our family. Britt and Colby. Gray and Whitney. Some of the Railers are sprawled in their seats like they don’t entirely belong in a theater but showed up anyway because they love me, and Knox would have killed them if they didn’t.

Whitney catches my eye and gives me a knowing smile, the kind that says she knew exactly where this was headed long before either of us did. She was the one who said the best relationships start out by fake dating, and judging by the warmth in her expression, she’s feeling pretty vindicated right about now.

Britt leans into Colby, grinning, while Gray gives Knox a clap on the shoulder. There’s no hesitation or awkwardness there. No one looking at us like we moved too fast or made a mistake.

Unable to help myself, my attention resettles on Knox, the way it always does. He glances toward the curtain, as if he can feel the weight of my stare. Our gazes meet across the crowded theater, and for one suspended moment, everything else falls away.

It’s just him and that unwavering sense of rightness I always feel in his presence. After a moment, he gives me a slight nod. And, somehow, that tiny movement is enough to banish the nerves. My throat wells with emotion as I let the curtain fall back into place and close my eyes for one brief second.

When I open them again, I touch the star resting above my heart.

No more cages.

A smile curves my lips as I square my shoulders, lift my chin, and step into position.

Not as the girl hoping she belongs here, but as the woman who knows she earned her place.

Epilogue

Knox

Applause rings in my ears as I push through the backstage doors. People are everywhere and cast members are still in costume. The crew is moving props around as the babble of excited voices overlaps. There’s an explosion of flowers and laughter. The energy that fills the space is the kind that comes after something big lands exactly the way it was meant to.

I barely register any of it. All I see is Cheyenne standing in the middle of the madness with her arms full of bouquets, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright. She’s smiling at something one of the other actors says, but there’s a dazed quality to it, like she still can’t quite believe this is her life.

I can.

I watched every damn second—from the moment she stepped out there and owned the theater like she was born for it to the final bow she took before the curtain came down. And through it all, she made it look effortless. Especially when I know how much work, fear, and grit it took for her to get here. I watched her stand in front of a packed house and claim the life she used to think was too far out of reach to touch.

And I watched her become the woman she was always meant to be.

As I stand here now, knowing she chose this life and built it with her own two hands, it damn near brings me to my knees. This is the moment that will change everything for her. And through all of it, I get to be the man standing at her side.

Cheyenne looks up just as I reach her, and our gazes lock. For one split second, everything around us drops away. The noise, the people, the flowers in her arms.

All of it.

Before my name even makes it past her lips, my hands are on her waist and I’m lifting her off the floor. She laughs as the bouquets get crushed between us.

“You were amazing,” I tell her.

Her smile wobbles. “You really think so?”

“Baby, you killed it.” I tighten my hold on her. “No, fuck that. I knew you’d be good and that you belonged out there, but what you did tonight…” I exhale, still trying to wrap my head around it. “You walked on stage and took something that was always meant to be yours. You made that whole theater believe in you.”

A mixture of relief and pride flickers across her expression as her eyes glisten with tears.

Her fingers slide into the hair at the nape of my neck. “You really mean that?”