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Devon yanks his helmet off, grinning ear to ear. “I can’t believe we just fucking did that.”

“Believe it, baby,” I shout, pulling mine off and shaking confetti from my hair.

Show over. Mic motherfucking drop.

Just as I'm about to hop onto my best friend's back, a blur of movement catches my eye.

Huckslee barrels across the track, launching himself at Taylor, and right there in front of hundreds of people, he crushes their lips together like we just won the Superbowl.

Taylor barely has time to react before kissing back, jumping up to wrap his legs around his boyfriend’s waist. The crowd eats it up.

Maybe it’s the high from the show. Maybe it’s the rush of the moment or the fact that he's hardly spoken to me since yesterday, but I turn to look at Devon.

And find him already looking back.

Reaching out, I thread my gloved fingers through his, trying it out, testing the feel.

He doesn’t pull away. His fingers squeeze back.

“Just for the tour?” I rasp, not really sure what I'm asking, but I go with the flow because it feels right.

Something flashes in his honey-gold eyes, an emotion too quick for me to catch before he smirks slowly. “Sure, hot shot. Just for the tour.”

Then he tugs me in, crushing his mouth to mine.

The crowd roars, fireworks still sizzling in the sky, confetti sticking to our sweat-damp skin.

And for a second, it’s perfect.

For a second, nothing else exists, just Devon's lips on mine, his free hand pressing into the small of my back like he's trying to get us closer.

But then the cheers start to fade inside my head as the reality of the moment creeps in slowly.

Just for the tour.

The words echo between us like a safety net, a preemptive excuse for whatever this is.

Am I wrong to put an expiration date on it? For asking Devon to let me test my newfound queeriosity, as Salem put it?

Probably. Definitely.

I doubt he gives a shit, though.

Devon pulls back first, and there’s something in his features again that I can't figure out. But then he grins, masking it with the same cocky confidence he always does, and I force myself to match it.

Because that’s what we do.

Clearing my throat, I let my smile settle back into place, my pulse flooding my ears. “Statement fucking made.”

He huffs, eyes flickering down to my mouth like he’s considering another kiss. But instead, he squeezes my hand once more before stepping away, rolling his shoulders like this was just another show.

It could be.

But for now, for the tour, I'm one hundred percent okay with that.

Chapter Twelve

Devon