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Thankfully, the appetizers came out then, and after we gave our entree orders, I kicked Halo under the table to change the damn subject.
“So, there’s something I wanted to show you,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled through until he found what he was looking for, and then set the phone in front of his parents.
Cheryl’s mouth parted. “Is that for your tour?” She looked up at Halo. “Will you be playing that piano?”
“That’s incredible.” Larry picked up the phone to get a closer look, pinching his fingers over the screen to zoom in. “Look, Cheryl, it’s a Steinway & Sons, just like yours.”
“Only covered in feathers,” she said. “I’m a little jealous. That’s absolutely stunning.”
Halo reached for my hand under the table and held it on my thigh. “It was a gift from Viper. He designed it himself.”
“You designed this?” Cheryl said, astonishment on her face, and then she looked at Halo. “And you get to keep this after the tour?”
Halo beamed. “Yes and yes.”
“But…you can’t possibly put this in your apartment.” Larry’s nose scrunched up when the words “your apartment” crossed his lips, which meant his feelings on Halo’s place were about the same as mine. As in, we should just burn it the fuck down.
Halo took his phone back and slid it in his pants’ pocket. “I know. I’ll be looking for a new place when the U.S. leg of the tour wraps.”
Huh. I hadn’t thought about Halo wanting a new place of his own, not when I did my damned best to keep him in my bed every night. But it made sense he’d want something of his own. As long as it was close by and we could switch off nights, I supposed it was okay. Maybe.
“Viper, what a sweet thing to do for Halo,” Cheryl said.
Sweet? Did she just use my name and the word “sweet” in the same sentence?
“I’m impressed. How tall are those wings?” Larry asked.
“About fifteen feet, give or take a couple of inches.” Hell, I would’ve had them made even bigger if I’d thought they would fit anywhere other than a stadium.
Larry let out a low whistle as Cheryl said, “Well, I can’t wait to see them in person. At your show.”
Halo groaned again, his head falling against my shoulder, his hand still in mine under the table. The chuckle that escaped my throat was cut off when I looked up to see Larry and Cheryl watching us, similar smiles on their faces, ones that told me they approved of not only me, but our relationship.
My biggest concern walking into tonight was that Halo’s parents wouldn’t know how much he meant to me. But the way they looked at us now had all those worries disappearing like smoke.
Twenty-Six
Halo
THE MUSIC PULSED, a loud, heavy beat that vibrated through my entire body, getting faster and faster as the platform I stood on beneath the stage began to rise.
This was it, Fallen Angel’s first show on the Corruption tour, and my heart was beating so hard that it almost drowned out the sound of Slade pounding the drums. Months of planning and rehearsing had brought us to this, a sold-out stadium of screaming fans, and this time, it wasn’t Trent’s name they were calling out—it was mine.
I held the microphone loosely by my side as I took a deep breath in, held it, then exhaled, sending the rest of my tension out with it. I’d spent the last hour pacing backstage, trying to work off the anxiety I could feel trying to creep its way into my bones. Trying to watch Sonic Edge, the band opening for us, didn’t work, because I’d been unable to sit still, excitement edging out my nerves, but just barely. Viper had given up trying to get me to calm down, leaving me to prepare for tonight however I needed to. His way of getting ready was relaxing backstage with a drink and joking with the guys. That was way too calm for how I was feeling.
I just needed to get this first show under my belt. I needed to prove not only to myself but to the fans that I could command their attention for two hours and give them one hell of a show.
A curtain of fog enveloped me as the platform leveled out with the top of the stage, thick enough to obscure my view of Viper and the others, where they had already begun to play in the dark. I waited for my cue, a drum pattern from Slade, and when I heard it, a dizzying array of blue, purple, and pink lights flashed across the stage, and I lifted the mic to sing “Dark Angel.”
Even with my in-ear monitors, I could hear the thunderous roar from the crowd, the energy radiating off them blasting toward me and nearly knocking me off my feet. I held my ground as the fog began to clear, giving me a view of the filled-to-capacity stadium, the bracelets each of them wore blinking in time to the music in the same shades as the lights on stage. From here, I could see every one of them, and as I finished off the first verse, I said, “Atlanta, you’re sexy as fuck tonight,” starting off another round of screams as I sauntered down the staircase. Slade grinned at me as I passed his drum kit, and a few more stairs down, Jagger lifted his chin my way, surrounded on all sides by various keyboards. I headed down to the main stage to stand front and center between Killian and Viper, but when Viper looked over his shoulder, his eyes roamed over every inch of me, and I almost forgot my next lyric.
