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Finally, he relaxes slightly and speaks dryly. “I’ll see you in a few. I’ll be the cowboy on stage in the hat.”
I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “I’ll be the girl in the front row, yelling ‘yee-haw’ louder than everyone.”
Keith actually smiles as the guys laugh. “Good lord, woman. Do not do that. Or you’re likely to get kicked out for being drunk.”
I grin, considering doing it just to mess with him.
As the kid sets me up at my table, a fresh bottle of beer magically appears from a passing waitress. I yell out ‘thanks’ but she’s already gone.
A few minutes later, I’ve taken some notes on the show attendees. Most are fans wearing t-shirts from Keith’s last tour, with a pair of radio djs wearing polos with their KCTY call letters on the chest and a slew of half-naked women all giggly and girly as they wait impatiently for Keith’s appearance on stage. I try not to feel catty about them, but I can’t help it . . . some of these bitches need a muzzle and a tranq dart.
Shit, maybe I’m the one feeling possessive.
When Keith finally emerges, it’s a riot of noisy yells and clapping. As he greets the crowd, I can see just how comfortable he is on stage, his energy creating a buzzing sort of high among the crowd. He starts singing and it’s magical. I didn’t tell him this, but once I got this assignment, I did my homework like any good reporter.
I’ve listened to all his biggest hits, both the ones that sold millions and the ones the critics raved about, which ironically aren’t usually the same songs. I’ve heard him sing about parties, about women, about dads, about long drives home, and more. But none of those hours spent with Keith blasting through my earbuds prepared me for this. His deep tenor is amplified until it vibrates my chest, making me feel his words, both physically and metaphorically in my heart.
I can see how the emotions of every song resonate for him, both upbeat and subdued. It’s amazing how in this entire room full of people clamoring for a piece of him, it feels like he’s singing just to me, and I’m sure if I asked every person in the crowd, they’d feel the same way.
It’s in the tilt of his head, the way his eyes slowly move across the space, connecting with people, how he even winks at a couple of those giggly women with a sign proclaiming Keith, we love you!
As he sings his latest hit about the girl he wants but can’t have yet, he bends down low, right in front of me, reaching out a hand. Even though I held his hand earlier, when I touch him on stage like this, larger than life, I swear I light up just like a teenybopper at a Justin Beiber concert.
And I don’t care. I’m swept away because he really is singing to me right now. Baby, take my hand; we’ll buy a little piece of land; it’ll be just me and you; forever, if you say, ‘I do’.
Okay, obviously not singing to me like he means what he’s saying, but his eyes are locked on me until the end of the song, and then he kisses the back of my hand like the gentleman he’s decidedly not. With a wink, he tears off across the stage as the band changes tune and Keith starts belting out his most famous party anthem.
I’m still swooning a bit, plopping back in my chair when I feel a tap on my shoulder.
I look up to see a young guy in a button-up and jeans standing there, and he smiles and leans in, whisper-yelling in my ear. “I’m Ethan. I’m with the bar crew. Mind if I sit with you for sound checks?”
I nod, mouthing “Sure” as I gesture to the chair. He sits down and I go back to watching Keith rock the crowd for a few songs. My legs are still shaky, knees knocking under the table as I catch my breath from singing along. Keith is strutting his stuff, grinning and playing his heart out over to the right side of the stage, but I notice a tight look on his face when he looks back at me, eyes bouncing from me to Ethan.
I shrug in an attempt to let Keith know it’s no big deal, because I really don’t mind sharing the primo table, but he seems stiffer than he was just a moment ago. He finishes out the song but keeps playing a guitar riff as he resets the microphone center-stage right in front of me.
When he stops, he takes the microphone, his eyes radiating power that takes over the room. “Thanks so much, everyone. I have to tell y’all a secret if you think you can keep it quiet.”
