“It’s not a live snake,” he calls.
A stage tech gives me my cue, and I nod, sweeping past Manny and by Patty’s table. I bite my lip to hold back a smile as I pass him, and he doesn’t return the favor. He full-on smirks.
I’m marching across the stage to my grand piano when I hear him in my ear.
“You could be an assassin in that dress. Grown men all over this theater just had heart attacks.”
I duck my head, smiling as I sit down. My fingers land on the piano, and the music pours out of me.
Music is always emotional for me, but right now, I’m feeling all sorts of ways, and the song even sounds different. My heart isn’t cracked open as I bleed at the piano. Theskiesare open as my song rises to heaven. And when I play the last chord and sing the last note, I’m floating up with it.
I stand and wave at the crowd, wishing for a moment that I could see them, wishing I could hear them. I take a few steps forward to the vibrating plate and glance over at Patty. He must know what I’m thinking, because instantly, the crowd is in my ears.
And in my heart.
That’s when I feel a tap on my shoulder at the same time I hear gasps from the audience.
And Connor Nash is standing right in front of me with a bouquet of red roses.
My hands fly to my face as my heart beats like a drum. “Connor?”
He’s eight years older than I am, but he still has that boyish charm that launched him so rapidly to fame. Even with his stage makeup on, his piercing blue eyes and easy grin could make hearts flutter. His golden-brown hair is artfully tousled, making him look like the boy you’d want to take home to momma.
His smile could stop the sun in its orbit, and the way the crowd is cheering, we’re gonna need a lot more fainting couches.
“I’m patching him into your ear now,” a voice like honeyed whiskey says.
Patty.
And suddenly, his voice clashes with Connor’s face, and I don’t know how I feel.
But Connor’s smiling, and he’s clearly the surprise my label had arranged. Manny told me I’m supposed to “go along with it,” whatever that means. I take the roses, but I can’t keep the shock from my face.
“You know I’ve been following every leg of your tour online,” he says loudly to me into a microphone one of the sound techs must have given him. His amplified voice echoes in the cavernous concert hall over the screaming fans. “When I found out how close we’d be, I couldn’t stand another night of us being two buses passing. I thought this was as good an opportunity as any to … ask you out on a date?”
Rapture. That’s the only way to describe the level of fanaticism and screaming happening in the arena. It’s almost too much noise.
I laugh in disbelief but shoot my eyes offstage toward Patty’s. He turns down the audience, and I’m once again comforted knowing he understands exactly what I need.
And it’s not this.
But … my label said to go along with it. And, I mean, I’ve had a crush on the man for years. I know what I have to say. And I should want to say it, right?
“Yes, obviously!” I say.
He throws his arm in the air and whoops, then picks me up and spins me around.
He’s not as tall as Patty, and not as strong, either, but that’s a stupid comparison. He’s plenty tall and plenty strong, and when he sets me down and goes in for a?—
Holy honky-tonk, is he coming in for a kiss?
I panic as his face—that famous, handsome face—gets closer to me. I try to hold still, but at the last possible second, I turn my head so his lips land on my cheek, and I hear him chuckle in my ear.
“Not ready to go all in, eh, darlin’?” he says, nuzzling against my ear.
I try to laugh, but I feel so awkward. So uncertain and confused and …
Uncomfortable.
