AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jesus. I squinted as the massive crowd came into focus, and my knees suddenly felt weak. There were just so many people… How did Trent get up here and do this and like it?
I squeezed the ever-loving shit out of his hand, determined not to pass out and embarrass him during his big moment. Like he knew I was sweating bullets, Trent turned us so we were facing each other and finished off the song looking directly into my eyes. When he looked at me that way, nothing else existed. Not the others on stage with us, not the people watching. It was me and my guy, and he was serenading me like he’d done when I met him.
The deafening cheers once the song ended broke my trance, and Trent turned back to the crowd, waving and grinning like he knew he’d just saved the night. I couldn’t even imagine the chaos if he hadn’t thought fast and jumped on stage when he did.
“Thank you,” he said, sending off another round of screams and applause that didn’t die down as Paige walked toward us, a mic in hand.
“How about Trent fucking Knox?” she yelled, and this time I was sure I was going to go deaf. I’d be hearing these shouts echoing in my ears for days to come, but it was worth it to see my man get his due.
Yeah, proud was the understatement of a century.
Seventeen
Paige
SWEET JESUS ON a crispy cracker, just when I thought it had all gone to hell in a handbasket, Trent Knox had gone and saved the day.
Yeah, he was definitely going on my Christmas card list.
“Okay, everyone, so that blackout was fun and all, but let’s not do it again, yeah?” I said, and whoops rang out in response. “We’ve got so much more to come from these guys, but for now we’re gonna let them go recoup while you get your refill on. Go visit my girl Ryleigh at the bar and get her to make you something naughty.”
As Trent, Shaw, and Fallen Angel left the stage, I saw Ace and Dylan getting mic’d up in the wings. Okay, good, things were still somewhat on track, blackout be damned.
“In a few minutes, Ace Locke and Dylan Prescott will start the auction, so get ready to bid, and remember—this is all going to several of Ace’s favorite charities, so don’t get cheap on him.”
Laughter met my ears as I headed backstage and Christmas music once again filtered throughout the arena. For the moment I felt like I could breathe again after the heart attack the blackout caused, but I wouldn’t let myself get overly cocky again for the rest of the night. Not until it all went off without another hitch and I could drink myself into oblivion after.
“That went well.” Ace gave me a knowing grin as a crew member adjusted the mic on his collar. “Need a sedative yet?”
“Hopped up on adrenaline at the moment, but let me tell you—the crash later is going to be epic.”
Dylan clucked his tongue. “Poor Dawson. Maybe he’s the one who’ll need the sedative.”
“Nah. Ryleigh’s kept him occupied at the bar all day, and by occupied, I mean heavily intoxicated. Lucky bastard.” I let out an exaggerated sigh and clapped my hands together. “So, you two ready to raise some serious money?”
“Yup,” Ace said, waving the auction list he held. “And if all else fails and the bids aren’t high enough, Dylan will do a striptease.”
Dylan’s jaw dropped. “I'll do what?”
“Nothing says merry Christmas like a naked man.” I nodded. “Do what you need to.”
“Listen, Hotshot, if you think me getting naked would raise more than you taking off your pants, you’ve got another thing coming.”
Ace laughed at Dylan’s protests as the sound guys finished their job.
“You want an intro?” I asked, and Ace shook his head.
“Nah, we’ve got this.” He took hold of Dylan’s hand, linking their fingers. “Don’t we, Daydream?”
As they headed toward the stage, I could hear Dylan say, “Seriously, if anyone is getting naked tonight, it’s you.”
Ahh. Decisions, decisions.
I hit the mic button on my headset. “Auction in five…four…three…two…”
Screams filled the air as Ace and Dylan hit the stage, and, no longer needed backstage, I quickly made my way through the back hall to join everyone on the floor of the arena. I needed to make sure the auction went smoothly, and thank God my team knew that, because anytime someone had a question or needed assistance, one of my managers went running.
By the time I hit the floor, the guys were already in full swing on the first item, a signed guitar from our blackout savior Trent Knox.
As the bids surpassed two thousand dollars, Ace held his finger up to his ear like he was getting an incoming message.
“What’s that? Trent will personally deliver the guitar to you after the show? And it’ll be the one he’s using tonight?”
