“Are you giving me a choice?”
“No.”
“Then, I guess I’m ready.” I down another swig of Jack then lean into him when he wraps his arm around my shoulders and shoves the mic between us. The bass, guitar, and drums start, and I close my eyes, getting lost as I sing a sad song about two kids who lost everything but still had something to cling to. When the song comes to an end, I give him a hug then hustle off the stage and through the back doors while the crowd cheers. Needing a minute alone, I go to the bathroom and push into one of the stalls, closing the door behind me. I breathe deep through the pain in my chest, pain I somehow forgot about, pain that is almost unbearable even now.
“Dakota,” a deep, familiar voice calls, making my heart pound.
It can’t be Braxton. He’s not supposed to be home until Sunday.
I wipe the wetness from my cheeks, expecting to find my mind is playing tricks on me when I open the door. I step out and lock eyes with the man I’ve been missing like crazy standing with his back to the door, his arms crossed over his chest and a look of pain in his eyes. “You’re back.”
“Come here,” he orders, opening his arms, and I don’t hesitate to go to him, wrap my arms around his waist, and rest the side of my head against his chest as a fresh wave of tears fill my eyes.
“I miss my parents,” I whimper as his hand smooths over my hair and comes to rest on the back of my neck, his scent and warmth seeping into me. “Before the accident, before my dad died we we’re happy, I grew up happy.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“Me too.” I hold onto him and breathe through the tears soaking up his strength. “I missed this.”
His hand tightens and he holds me closer. “I missed this too.”
I nod and close my eyes, feeling like I could just fall asleep right here.
“I thought you weren’t coming home until Sunday.”
“My plans changed,” he mutters, tugging my hair and forcing my head back to look at me. “I don’t like not being able to talk to you.”
I swallow. “Then I guess there are things both of us don’t like.”
“Hmm.” He uses his free hand to capture my throat then slides it up to my jaw as his eyes search mine. “You make me insane, Dakota.”
“Ditto, Braxton,” I pant as he lowers his mouth to mine. My eyes slide closed at the first touch of his lips, and I open for him, greedy for his taste. He licks into my mouth, and I latch onto him a little tighter, the buzz of alcohol and his attention making me feel lightheaded.
“Dakota?” Samantha knocks on the bathroom door, and Braxton pulls away, groaning.
“That’s Samantha,” I tell him, then call out, “Just a second.”
“Come away with me tonight,” Braxton says, gaining my attention.
“I’m here with Samantha.”
“Spend time with her then come away with me,” he urges, and I study him and the look of longing in his eyes and nod. When he opens the door and Samantha sees him, her eyes widen.
“Braxton is here,” I point out the obvious.
“Ms. Shelton,” he says, and I elbow him then shake my head.
“We’re not at work. You don’t have to be so formal.”
He smiles at me then looks at her. “Sorry, Samantha.”
“It’s okay.” She laughs then looks between the two of us. “If you two want to take off you guys don’t have to stick around for me. I can catch a cab home.”
“Sounds good,” Braxton murmurs.
“I’m not ditching you.” I glare at the man behind me and she laughs.
“Really, it’s okay. I think I’ve had enough fun for one night, probably more fun than I’ve had in forever.”
“It was fun. We will have to do it again.”
“Yes we will,” she agrees and then looks down the hall, as there is a commotion. I look that way and see my brother and the guys coming our way. Nervousness settles in my stomach, and I hold my breath as they approach.
“Let me guess—you’re Braxton,” Jamie says, looking at the man who has moved to my side, and then the two of them shake hands and do that guy pat on the back thing. “Did you catch any of the show?”
“A few songs,” Braxton replies, taking my hand and I know then he heard me sing with Jamie.
“Cool.” Jamie looks at me and his face softens. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I respond, and Braxton squeezes my fingers in silent support.
“Are you heading out? Or are you going to stick around for a drink?”
I really don’t think I need to have another drink. Honestly, everything is a bit hazy right now, but something is telling me that Jamie needs to see me with Braxton.
“Want to stay for a little longer?” I ask, taking Samantha’s attention away from Lozz.
“Sure.” She shrugs.
“We can stay for a few,” I agree, looking at my brother.
“Come on then.” He motions for us to follow, and I look up at Braxton as everyone heads down the hall.
“Are you okay with this?”
“You spending time with your brother and friends?” he prompts, and I nod. “Yeah, I’m okay with that.” I lean up on my tiptoes and touch my mouth to his. When I start to pull back, he stops me. “But tonight, we’re going to have a long talk about us, Dakota.”
I lick my lips, not sure if I’m excited about having another talk with him, because part of me is scared everything between us will change, that we will never be able to agree on how things should be.
“I’m really looking forward to that,” I say sarcastically, and he smiles then lets me go and smacks my ass. “Hey, that stung!”
“Oh, beautiful girl, you have no idea the things I’m going to do to you when I get you alone.” He shakes his head and my body pulses. “Let’s go spend time with your brother so I can reassure him that you’re safe with me.”
“I knew that’s why he wanted us to stay,” I grumble, and he laughs then takes my hand. We head into the room that we were in earlier, and within thirty minutes, my nervousness about Jamie and Braxton getting along is gone. The two of them talk and joke like they’re old friends, and Braxton wins over his bandmates like he’s one of them, all but Freddie who is sitting alone drinking. Normally I would go out of my way to talk to him but tonight his mood seems dark so instead I sit with Samantha sipping a fresh drink. I smile when I hear my brother laugh at something Braxton said and turn to look at him.
“I shouldn’t be surprised that a man who wears a suit like a second skin can win over a bunch of rowdy rockers, but then again, it just goes to show how down to earth and laid back he is,” Samantha says, and I look at her. “It’s also probably why he’s as successful as he is. He can blend in in any environment and make people feel he’s just like them.”
“He is just like them,” I tell her quietly. “He’s just a guy.”
“And that right there is why he’s falling in love with you,” she whispers, and my heart seems to double-beat. “You don’t see him as a billionaire. To you, he’s just a guy you like.”