This afternoon Warbler had sent a car to pick up Troy, his parents, and his equipment, and I’d gotten notification they’d arrived not long ago. Ardy had been there to greet him and walk him back to the bunker suite where Troy could hang out until his soundchecks.
The cart slowed as it approached a set of double doors, which automatically slid open, and then we whirred down a quiet hall.
“How’d the thing go last night?” I asked. Troy had been invited to dinner with Stella and some of the executives at her record label.
Ardy turned his head so I could see his profile, but his expression was cryptic. “It went good.”
I was hoping for more info, but the cart rounded a corner and pulled to a stop. The doors to the private suites lined the wall, and he pointed at the first one. “He’s in there.” He leaned down and pulled a radio out of the box at his feet and passed it to me. “Anything before six-thirty, text me. After that, we use the comm.”
“You got it.”
As the cart backed up, turned, and drove off, I clipped the battery pack of the radio to the waist of my pants and hooked the earpiece in. It was quiet now, but give it an hour, I thought. There’d be a lot of chatter.
When I knocked on the door, Troy’s rich voice came from behind it. “Come in.”
The suite was called a bunker, and although it was windowless, it felt bright and airy and luxurious. The floors were oak, and the couch and two chairs opposite it were squared off and modern, covered in white leather. Over the bar, a huge television was mounted, and onscreen was a live feed of the stage.
Troy was at the back of the room, sitting at the high table, wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt, an open can of Coke and his phone in front of him. He turned his head as I came in, and when he saw it was me, he pushed to his feet.
“Hi,” he said softly.
I didn’t use words. The smile that burst on my face was the biggest of my life.
I’d been happy before.
I’d been thrilled when Clark proposed. Ecstatic when I’d sold ‘Reckless.’ Elated after performing a huge show.
But this feeling now? It was something completely different.
Maybe you could only reach a certain level of happiness for yourself, but . . . happiness for someone else?
That was limitless. That was joy.
Oh, my God. I was going to watch his dream come true tonight, and the emotion I had couldn’t be contained. It detonated like a bomb, flooding me with its power.
Troy’s gorgeous face filled with worry, and his feet carried him swiftly toward me. “Oh no! Erika, don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry,” I blubbered. I tilted my head back and hurriedly wiped under my eyes, before shaking out my hands like it could dispel my emotion.
His arms wrapped around my waist and his tone was desperate. “Whatever’s wrong, it’ll be okay.”
I laughed softly through my tears because he thought I was upset. “No, I’m crying because I’m so damn happy for you.”
He exhaled, and relief washed through his eyes. It continued down through him as I threw my arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. Holding onto him anchored me. It settled my emotions and I sucked in a calming breath.
“Okay,” embarrassment tinged my words, “sorry about that. When I saw you, it kind of hit me all at once.”
Slowly, I relaxed my hold on him but he didn’t let me go, making it so we could look in each other’s eyes. His were so deep and beautiful. Next to his hands, they were quickly becoming my favorite part of him, because of the way he used them to look at me.
“I know you’ve got a million things on your mind,” I said, “so let me clear one thing up.” I slid my palm down over his shoulder and onto his chest, directly over his heart. “This is what I want.”
Beneath my hand, the thump of his heart sped up.
My voice was unsteady, but my determination was strong. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but I won’t give up. I wasn’t just scared. After Clark, I was fucking terrified, but you didn’t give up on me.” I gained strength and power as I spoke. “You don’t have to believe for both of us. I’m all in with this.” I pressed my hand against his chest, wanting to possess the heart inside. “I’m all in with you.”
Troy stared at me like he was on total overload, and—shit—had I broken him?
“If that’s what you want,” I breathed.
His focus drifted beyond me and he cleared his throat. “Mom? Bill? Can y’all give us a minute?”
Every muscle inside me went tense. As soon as I’d seen him, everything else had faded away, and then I’d been in a mad rush to get it all out. I hadn’t paid any attention to the rest of the room, or the alcove beside the door where his parents had been sitting.
I stood as a statue in Troy’s arms, unable to turn and look at Jenna, who’d basically overheard me tell her son I was in love with him. There was shuffling as they stood.
“We’ll just . . . go take some pictures of the stage,” Bill said.
I shut my eyes tightly, not opening them until the door clicked closed behind them.
My eyelids were only open for a fraction of a second before they fell closed under the power of Troy’s kiss. It was so passionate, new tears stung at the corners of my eyes. He cupped the back of my head and adjusted the angle so he could part my lips with his and slip his tongue against mine.
A noise of satisfaction came from deep in my throat, and he increased the intensity of the kiss. I hadn’t said I loved him using those exact words, but it was implied, and he was implying the same thing through this connection.
The world was spinning when his kiss ended. Our lips remained so close, they brushed over each other as we spoke, tasting and sampling like we couldn’t get enough.
“In case that didn’t make it clear,” he whispered, “I want this.”
“I thought you were in here alone.” I smiled softly. “I might have waited to say all that if I’d known they were on the other side of the room.”
“I made them because they were freaking me the fuck out.”
The whiskers of his scruff bristled against my fingers as I touched his face. “Are you okay?”
He turned so he could drop a kiss in the center of my palm and gave me a sexy smirk. “I’m much better now.” As if I were one hundred percent the reason for it. “You have this power over me. When I get nervous, I tell myself I’m singing only to you, and then I’m good.”
Lord, he was killing me. “You can’t just say stuff like that.” My tone was teasing, even though I was serious. “You’re going to make me cry again and my makeup is probably already a mess.”
He brushed the pad of his thumb under my eye, probably wiping away a mascara darkened tear track. “Nope. Still the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
His gaze skimmed down over my black blouse and black leather pants before landing on my hot pink heels.
“Your lucky shoes,” he said.
“Yeah.” I grinned. “I wore them for you.”
“For us,” he corrected.
Troy
Black curtains hung across the stage, sectioning off what was already set for Stella’s show. The stadium was buzzing with fans. We could hear the crowd from behind the wings, but also see some of them too. The stage was placed at one end of the bowl of the arena, meaning there were cheap seats that only had a view from the sides.