Cath continued to go and was incredible. I felt something that I hadn’t feltfor a long time. That feeling of magic when music filled the room with its energy and transformed everything. It was that muse, that kismet.
It didn’t seem possible that I could have contributed to anything so powerful, but had there been something about my playing that let Cath feel free enough to share?
I swallowed the tightness in my throat. And studied Mari’s profile. She’d believed in me from the beginning. She’d insisted repeatedly, borderline violently, that I was the person who could help Cath, and Ihad.
Mari turned her head, probably feeling my stares. She smiled so brilliantly it made it hard to breathe. She took my hand and squeezed it.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I felt the words on my tongue, the declaration and truth, that everything was for her. They were right there. I would give her anything she ever asked of me.
Cath finished the song, and her eyes widened when they landed on Mari squeezing my hand briefly. The song ended, and Cath stood abruptly.
“We should probably wrap up,” she said. “We are already over our time.”
As she spoke, we both noticed movement in the sound booth.
We weren’t the only people watching Cath.
There was a man with a look of surprised, impressed awe. He smiled as he looked from Cath to me, where he paused. His eyes widened fractionally, his smile fading from his face.
On the other side of the glass stood my former bandmate and best friend, Vander. All the exhilaration from a moment ago crashed to the floor.
CHAPTER 22
MARI
Leo had been looking at me with a quiet admiration more and more lately. How he looked at me now as I came to his side. His softened features and intense eyes told me a story I wasn’t ready to read. I’d watched him play, and it was incredible, but I hadn’t wanted him to know I was watching. There had been tension between Cath and him; they needed space to work through whatever was happening.
I squeezed his hand when I felt him stiffen.
Hands dropping to his side, he said, “I gotta go.”
I followed his gaze to the mixing room and found a man I only recognized from pictures.
It was Vander from The Burnouts. His light-brown hair was almost to his shoulders and as thick and wild as his beard. He wore round, thin-wired glasses that evoked John Lennon and a gray blazer over a half-unbuttoned white collared shirt. His gaze was locked on Leo, features unreadable.
“Wait,” I whispered to Leo. “Don’t run away. You aren’t alone.”
His nostrils flared, and he glanced behind me again. “I’m not prepared for this conversation.” Leo stooped his head, and the anxiety pinching his eyes tore at my chest.
“I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” I said. A protectiveness gripped me. As fiercely as I protected my students from Pin Dick, I would protect Leo. Just let this guy say something. He would see the full velocity of my wrath.
Leo held my stare like he was about to argue but stayed at my side. “He’s coming in here.”
“It’s okay,” I said. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it again but dropped it just as fast, not sure he wanted the visible protection.
Leo nodded and stepped closer to me, almost behind me.
Cath came to stand with us. She smiled, but through her teeth, she asked, “I’m trying not to freak out, but is that Vander Moore?” Her performance still glowed in her cheeks. “Because I might pass out if it is.”
Leo mumbled something I couldn’t hear.
“He’s just a person,” I said and lifted my chin.
“A rock star who is currently selling out stadiums, but sure,” Cath said.
Leo’s frown deepened. Cath finally seemed to notice his silent seething. “Oh. Sorry. This is probably so weird for you.”
