And just like that, I know. More certain than if he came down off stage and told me himself. This is for me. He’s here, singing this song, exposing his one secret, for me.
Tears fall from my eyes, fast and hot. I push up on my barstool to my knees. He’s still looking right at me like we’re the only two people in the world. My skin tingles all over, and for the first time, I wish one of my favorite songs would end already. My legs burn to run to him, and my arms tense with the desire to hold him.
And finally, the song slows. I jump off my stool and push my way through the crowd. Even in my heels, I’m still too short to see over the towering heads to the stage, but I continue forward. The song ends and the crowd cheers. What if he goes backstage and I miss him?
I’m using my hands and my elbows, driving people out of my way. The closer I get to the stage, the rowdier the crowd gets. Moshers throw forearms and knock each other around. One guy crashes into my side and sends me flying into another guy. I careen, the combination of nervousness and booze throwing me off center.
“Hey, if one more person knocks into my woman, you’ll answer to me,” Blake says into his mic with a snarl. The crowd parts, taking a step back to open a path.
His woman…
Righting myself, I trail through the crowd to the stage. And then, he’s there. Black Sabbath t-shirt stretched over the wide expanse of his chest, a kick-ass pair of dark jeans, and his guitar hanging loose at his side. I fist my hands, trying to satisfy the urge to run my palms up his chest and into his hair. He jumps down from the stage and takes two steps toward me, then freezes.
I can’t move. My legs are held captive by his presence.
“Mouse?”
I suck in a breath and roll my trembling lips between my teeth. Never thought I’d hear him call me that again.
He holds his hand out to me. “Come here.”
I step back. His eyebrows drop low, questioning. He moves one step forward but doesn’t get any closer than the handful of feet that separate us. His gaze flits around the room, then back to me, like he thinks I might run.
He’s right.
I reach back, pull off one high heel, and drop it to the floor. He tilts his head, his lips set a flat line. After I drop the second shoe, he drops his shoulders. Defeat.
And then…
I run.
With the force of all my worry, powered by anxiety and days of depression, I slam into his solid chest. He absorbs me in an instant. His strong arms engulf me, lock around my waist, and lift me off the ground. He buries his face in my neck, and I hold him there with all the strength I have.
“Fuck, Mouse. I’ve missed you.”
The crowd whistles and cheers.
A sob rips from my throat, and he holds me tighter. “No, sweetheart. Don’t cry.”
“I thought… I lost… you.”
“Never.” He sets me down, but I refuse to let him go. He rubs my back softly, encouraging me to loosen my grip. “It’s okay, I’m here.”
I lean back enough to look at his face. His eyes glisten, and he clears his throat. “Mouse… I love you. I’ve never loved anyone in my entire life. And then you come along, and… my music, my fighting? None of it means anything without you. My life means nothing without you.”
I jump up, and he wraps me in his arms again. “Don’t let me go, Blake. Please… never let me go.”
“I promise.”
“I love you, Blake.”
His entire body relaxes under my whispered words. “It’s hard to believe you’re really here, like this… I thought I’d never hold you again.”
Ataxia begins their set, and the small space Blake and I had on the floor closes in with the bodies of excited fans. They erupt as the first few bars of a song blare through the speakers. We get shoved, and Blake sets me down. He takes my hand and leads the way, protecting me with the width of his body, weaving us through the crowd toward the side of the stage.
I look over my shoulder just in time to see the huge smiles of my friends Eve and Raven, who’ve been joined by Jonah, Mason, and Caleb. Eve gives me a quick thumbs up and a knowing smile.
They set me up. And I love them to pieces for it.
Thirty-four
Blake
I can’t believe it worked. Part of me expected her to bolt as soon as she saw me. I’d hoped for at least a polite smile and a chance to talk. But she gave me so much more.
She gave me her.
A smile curls my lips, and I hold her tiny hand in mine. We move through the crowded bar to a door at the side of the stage. A bouncer stands guard at the entrance to the backstage dressing rooms. Before things go any farther, we need to talk, and this is the quietest and closest place I can think of.
“Yo, Brick.” I shake hands with the guy who earned his name from looking like a solid piece of concrete.
“Blake, man. What’s up?”
“I need a room. Just for a few minutes.”