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The sun brightens the east side of the stadium, with blazing-hot rays beating down and making it hard to see anything but what’s right in front of you. It’s our last rehearsal before hitting the road tonight, and Xander insisted on making it as realistic as possible. We’re at the Greek Theatre, the stadium is empty, and I’m clutching the microphone . . . my face carefully blank as I mindlessly search for him. It’s upsetting me that he’s occupying so much of my mind space. Before I went to his house, I thought having it out with him would take care of it, but now I think status quo might be best. My nerves overtook me when I was there, and I’m not sure I can actually discuss the past with him.
I just have to clear away all thoughts of him and focus on my career. But that’s easier said than done because every time I see him, he’s back in the forefront of my mind. Even right now he’s searing me as he strides down the aisle. He looks amazingly sexy in all black—black T-shirt, black jeans, and black work boots. I’m standing in this huge stadium with so many other people around and he’s still all I see. Moving toward me with his dark good looks and arrogance, he’s just the same eighteen-year-old boy I couldn’t wait to see, talk to, kiss, and wrap my arms around. But today, even though his hazel eyes appear tired and his dark hair looks a little more disheveled than usual, he’s still undeniably gorgeous. What’s wrong with me? One minute I don’t want to lay eyes on him ever again, and the next I can’t wait to see him.
The sound system is on the fritz and he immediately takes control of the situation. He points to the stage and yells to someone. He struts even closer and his walk is as full of confidence as his tone. Hearing his voice, now the voice of a man, makes my heart beat a little faster, my breath quicken, and gives me that feeling of comfort in my soul that it once did. Screeching crackles from the speakers pierce my ears. The scratching sound would normally make me cringe, but right now it’s the sweetest hymn of music because it helps distract me.
After he gives a few more directives, the sound system seems to be working again and he moves on to his next task. Ellie, the tour manager, calls him over and he approaches her with the easy grin and flirty manner that used to make me see green when he talked to other girls. It has the same impact on me now. I feel like that same lovesick teenager, and my reaction just makes me furious with myself.
When we finally finish what has to be the longest rehearsal ever, I swing my purse over my shoulder and make my way to the restroom. My phone rings the minute I cross the threshold backstage, and I fumble through my bag to pull it out. The screen flashes DAMON and I automatically hit IGNORE. He’s been calling and texting me for the last two weeks—begging forgiveness one minute and threatening legal action the next. He wants me back, but whether it’s for personal or business reasons, I’m not sure. I haven’t asked because I have no intention of going back. I’m not sure what’s going to happen when he finds out I joined this tour. Xander is making the announcement today that I’ve joined the Wilde Ones. I guess I’ll have to talk to Damon tonight, but I’ll wait until we’ve hit the road.
The bathroom backstage is old and definitely needs to be remodeled. The mirror is cracked, but I steal a glance at myself anyway. Hot, sweaty, and a mess. Oh, well. I try to stick the pieces of my hair that have fallen out of my low-slung bun back into the elastic as best I can and then head out. I’m a little nervous about starting this journey and a little excited at the same time. Singing is what I love, so getting back to sharing my music is exciting, but having Xander so close has put me on edge. My feelings for him are unclear and crystal clear at the same time—that’s why I’m nervous.
The smell of hamburgers fills the air, and I smile when I see that the food has been put on the tables previously set up in the orchestra section of the amphitheater. Since I’m starving, I make a plate and join the guys. Xander is not here. See, I’m still thinking about him—crap. I take a seat in the metal folding chair next to Garrett. His slightly long blond hair covers his gray eyes, shielding them from the sun. I just grin at him because his hairstyle and boyish face make him look like he’s still fifteen, and he really is cute. His lip ring only adds to his youthful appearance, and his tall, skinny stature certainly doesn’t help him look any more grown-up. When my phone rings again, I ignore it and switch it to VIBRATE.
Garrett asks, “Not going to answer that?”
The sunglasses on my face not only keep the sun from blinding me but also keep Garrett from seeing the stir of nerves within me. Damon’s continual calls are wearing on me. Smiling, I tell him, “It would be rude to answer at the table.”