Page 59 of Hunger & Harmony

I can’t explain it. I’ve always tried to defy my parents, and I’ve successfully ignored their expectations. Is there more to it? Something beyond them. Something beyond me.

My chin tilts up to look at Niko. He stares back, the weight of his gaze almost crushing.

“I want . . .”

The words catch in my throat. He reaches a hand to my face, and I press into his cool palm. His skin is a relief to my flushed, blotchy face.

“It’s okay, sweet girl.”

My bottom lip wobbles. His eyes flick down, and I want nothing more than for him to kiss me.

But I know. He can’t kiss my troubles away. If anything, the moment his lips press to mine . . .

It’ll mark the beginning of the end.

14

SWELTER

Heat stifles the air. Clinging to my skin like sweat, red dusts down my neck and chest. I’ve put my hair up in a disheveled bun, and my sleeves are pushed to my elbows. It shouldn’t be this hot when it’s almost November.

Maybe it’s the swell of the crowd’s palpable ecstasy. Or Niko’s vocals weaving through the whir of electric fans, haunting the quiet chaos back here. Halcyon Fields showed out for Arteria, and judging by the bass rattling my core backstage, the members met that energy. I’ve spent this time pacing in a dressing room bathroom. I’m not . . .hiding. I just need to think.

The show must’ve wrapped by now. I’m surprised Lorelai isn’t blowing up my line. I check it, and the nonexistent signal stares back at me. Shit!

Unlocking the bathroom door, I hurry out into the connected room.

Uh-oh.

I skid to a halt, my pupils working to dilate and take more of this view in. It has me swallowing hard, and my fingers twitch at my sides. A sudden urge to run my hands over strong, flawless marble erases my mission and writes over everything with only him.

Whoa. No matter how many times I’ve been in his dressing room, I've yet to see Niko’s bare arms, let alone his entire back. He’s shirtless in the faint amber glow.

I’ve never wanted to touch moonlight before. The taper of his waist is irresistible, and from such broad shoulders. He’s lean and defined in the way that makes my knees weaken.

Obsidian ink draws my eyes. He doesn’t have a lot of tattoos like his bandmates, and the only one I’ve seen so far is the crescent on his inner forearm. This one is similarly subtle, but instead of a moon, the clean lines form a sun where his spine meets his shoulders. Rays of light jut out in fine spires, with a sword piercing straight through the middle.

I force my hands to stay at my sides. No matter how badly I want to touch it, trace it, and know everything about it.

How silly I was to think any pop singer could be better than this. This visceral heat that pulls me to him without another thought. Or maybe that’s him, his phantom hands guiding me closer.

“Hey there, cherry cheeks.”

His voice sizzles in my ears, like a phonic ache and wrong notes turning right. Goosebumps erupt over my flushed skin. He finally turns to face me, and I’m pinned by his crimson gaze. His eyes have never burned so brightly, and I swear, I can taste his lips against mine as we stand only a foot apart.

I’ve never been boy-crazy. Temptation never looked this good, either.

“Hi,” I say, my brain working overtime to say something else.

A joke to cut a slice out of this tension? An excuse to get back to work?

Or the truth?

“You’re hot.”

Amusement brightens his face, and he directs his flirtatious smirk right at me.

“Oh, yeah?”