“Where’s Phoenix?”
Still being a no-good rotten liar.
“Come again?” Chandler snaps.
Shit. I didn’t realize I said that aloud.
I clear my throat. “Bathroom.”
Chandler waves a hand emphatically. “Well, if you want to stay employed, I suggest you go fetch him. The sound engineer is having an issue and they need him out there pronto.”
“Sure thing, Dicky,” I grit through my teeth as I stalk off.
I try the public bathroom backstage first since it’s the closest.
Irritated, I pop my head inside. “Shake it and zip it, scumbag. They need you on sta—” Phoenix isn’t in here, but I see George standing at the urinal. “Whoops.”
George quickly zips up his pants. “Hi.”
“Hey. Have you seen Phoenix?”
He strides over to the sink and washes his hands. “Um…yeah, actually.” He tears a paper towel from the dispenser. “I…saw him go off with a groupie a little while ago.”
What the hell?
“Dammit. The concert hasn’t even started.”
Heck, we’re not even through soundcheck yet.
George chases after me. “What are you doing after the show?”
Seriously? Focus, grasshopper. We have a lead singer to find.
As if on cue, Chandler steps into my path. “Well?” Another impatient hand wave. “Did you find him?”
Looking between us, George hikes a thumb at the stage behind him. “I’m gonna go.”
Smart move.
The big, juicy vein in Chandler’s forehead makes an appearance. “Where is he?”
Freaking Phoenix.
“He’s…busy.” I laugh and shrug like it’s no big deal. “Rock stars, amirite?”
That only makes him more irate.
“Busy with what?”
His dick.
But I can’t tell him that because it’s my job to make sure he’s performing at maximum capacity.
Thinking fast, I utter, “Look, he has the shits. He won’t be coming out for a while.”
There. Now he can take it up with mother nature instead of me.
I’m about to walk away, but he steps in front of me.
“I don’t care if he’s shitting out of his eyeballs.” He stabs his pointer finger in the direction of the stage. “We’ve only got five minutes left to finish sound check and get the levels right, so you better handle this or you’ll be on the next plane home!”
Shit on a stick.
Given I have no idea where Phoenix and his devoted fan are boning, I’m not exactly sure how I’m supposed to fix this.
Unless…
Indignation billows through me as I march toward the stage where the rest of the band is gearing up to play.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Chandler booms as I lower the mic.
“I’m handling it.”
Nerves coil in my belly, and my grip on the microphone tightens.
What the fuck am I doing?
“Check for mic one,” the guy at the soundboard calls out.
My heart pounds in my chest as I look around the empty stadium.
Over twenty thousand people will be here tonight…
To hear him sing my song.
Butterflies fill my stomach, and my palms start to sweat. There’s so much panic coursing through me, my voice shakes with the first few words.
“Close your eyes.”
Steeling myself, I squeeze them shut and power on.
This is what it would be like.
Adrenaline spirals through me, wrapping around my body like an electrical wire as I let the music—my music—take over.
In this moment—I’m not the girl who’s too petrified to sing in front of others.
I’m not the girl whose song was stolen by her first love.
I’m not the girl forced to stand on the sidelines while he lives my dream.
Right now? The magic on this stage is mine. All mine.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long because far too soon I’m singing the very last note.
“Holy shit,” Storm yells behind me. “You got a set of pipes.”
“Hot damn,” Memphis howls. “You been holding out on us, girl.”
Oh. My. God. I can’t believe I just did that.
My cheeks heat with embarrassment as I turn around. “It’s really not a big—”
Words lodge in my throat when I see Phoenix standing off stage…staring at me.
Anger mixed with something that looks a whole lot like jealousy etches his features as those blue eyes pin me to the spot…sucking all the oxygen from my lungs.