I smiled softly. Maybe I wasn’t the only flustered one in the room. Grey was usually so confident that it was cute to see him like this. “I’d love to watch.”
Once everyone was ready and I’d found where the girls had stashed the seltzers, we all made our way out to the stage. Sound check went by quicker than I’d anticipated, and it seemed like mere minutes later that Grey was backstage beside me and the club was filling with people. I didn’t know where Carina or the others had gone—probably back to the dressing room to wait.
“I love this part,” Grey said.
He stood so close that my arm kept brushing his stomach. I could feel the smooth hardness of him even through the layers of clothing.
“Which part?” I asked, my throat suddenly dry.
His body heat radiated from him, inviting me closer. I tried my best to ignore the impulse to “accidentally” close the distance between us.
“Right before the show,” Grey said in my ear. “Watching the crowd, feeling the energy building in anticipation.”
The crowd wasn’t the only source of anticipation at the moment. His voice in my ear raised goose bumps on my arms. My breath hitched in my throat. I wanted Grey badly, and I didn’t necessarily care if a whole room of people were waiting for him. My brain screamed to grab hold of him, to kiss him, to make love to him. It was all I could do to shove those impulses down and focus on our conversation.
“I never realized what it was like from this side.” I forced myself to see what Grey saw.
The energy rose from the crowd in waves as they chattered excitedly, noise humming in the air. He was right—the feeling was infectious.
Suddenly, the rest of the band returned, and Grey had to leave my side to prepare to go onstage. With the most annoying twinges of longing, I watch him get ready. He pulled his guitar strap over his head, exposing a sliver of skin at his midriff before he adjusted the strap until he was satisfied with how it felt. When the band was ready, they made their way onstage. Grey waited to go until everyone else was in position.
“Wish me luck,” he said with an earnest grin.
“Break a leg.” I knew better than to wish any artist luck.
Another grin, and he was out onstage, and the music started blaring. The intro to “You’ve Gotta Know” played, and the crowd went wild. This was a fan favorite. I knew that already because I’d heard it so many times at parties or Grey’s performances, but hearing the intensity of their reaction from backstage disarmed me.
I blinked. I knew whyIliked the song. It had always felt like Grey had written it specifically for me. I hated to think that anyone else could feel the same way. But then, it would be all too easy to look at Grey onstage—handsome and charismatic—and think that it was all for you. I’d certainly thought that so convincingly the first time I’d heard it that it had sent me into a full-blown panic attack. It was almost funny to think about now.
Someone cleared their throat next to me. I jumped, startled. I’d been so engrossed in my thoughts about Grey and the music that I hadn’t realized Carina had walked up beside me. I gave her a wary sideways glance. She looked like she’d been chewing on something particularly sour—a face she often made whenever we shared a room.
With sinking dread, I realized that she wanted to talk and that I had no escape.
“He looks happy out there, doesn’t he?” Carina spoke first.
I paused for a moment, trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind her words. Finally, I gave up. “He does. He lights up when he’s performing.”
“He also lights up whenever he’s around you.” Carina stopped any attempt at feigning attention toward what was happening onstage and looked directly at me.
Sighing, I turned my full attention to her but didn’t speak. I refused to incriminate myself for a crime that, quite frankly, I hadn’t committed. So I waited for her to continue.
“Grey’s been seriously hurt in the past,” she said, fire in her eyes. “He’s been through some things that no one should have to deal with.”
I thought about what he’d told me back in the hotel room but remained silent.
“Part of my job as a good partner is making sure that he doesn’t get hurt like that again.” She eyed me up and down. “Ever.”
Red anger flashed before my eyes.Is she implying that I’ll hurt Grey? How would I even begin to go about doing that? Isn’t it obvious that I’m in way more danger of getting hurt than he could ever be?I didn’t say any of that. I didn’t even express the venom I felt toward Carina in that moment. “Don’t worry,” I said, somehow managing to try consoling her. “I won’t hurt him.” I turned to watch Grey onstage and released another sigh.
“You probably think I’m just his dumb girlfriend,” Carina said. “But I’m not. I know he has feelings for you.”
“Does he?” I tried my best to keep my voice even despite my racing pulse.Shit. How do I get out of this?It was quite literally the worst-case scenario—being confronted by the girlfriend about an emotional affair that I was all-too-eagerly taking part in. Sure, we hadn’t been physical, but a huge “yet” was attached to the end of that statement.
“And you clearly have feelings for him,” she pressed on, intent on making me fess up.
I refused to give in. “Does it really matter if I do? It doesn’t change the fact that you two are together.”
Carina narrowed her eyes. “What would you do if I weren’t with him anymore? Would youdateGrey? Would you fuck him?”
