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“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m happy for you, bro.”
“Me too,” Colin added.
Troy’s voice went uneven. “Thanks.”
For a long moment, we said nothing, using the silence to acknowledge how much everything had changed so suddenly. By the end of the night, Colin knew Sydney and I were together, and Troy would be engaged.
He tucked the ring back in the bag and pocketed it, then turned his focus to the other man. “I know you’re pissed about Preston, but I gotta tell you—”
A knock on the door was quickly followed by Erika’s voice. “Troy? Are you in here?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed with a heavy swallow, and he smoothed a hand over his hair. “Yeah. Come in.”
The door popped open, she stuck her head in, and looked surprised to see he wasn’t alone. “Oh. Hey, guys.”
“Hey,” we all said in unison. It was so overly enthusiastic and unnatural, I tried not to cringe. Plus, it took all my strength to keep a shit-eating grin at bay. She had no idea what he had planned, and I couldn’t wait for the surprise.
She blinked in confusion, and flashed a smile at her boyfriend that read, you’re all being weird. But then she moved past it. “You ready? You should probably get out here and start saying hello to folks.”
“Right.” Troy rolled his shoulders back like he was shrugging out of a coat of nerves, and he strolled toward the door.
Colin’s voice was heavy with meaning. “Good luck.”
Troy nodded and followed her out into the hall.
I waited until I was sure they were safely out of earshot, before turning to Colin. “Think she’ll cry?”
His tone was cold. “Don’t talk to me.”
Okay, then.
And that was how the rest of the evening went. Every interaction I had with him was curt. When I told him we should move the champagne up to the end of the set and do the cake presentation later, he gruffly told me he’d take care of it.
When Troy took the stage, I watched what I could of his first few songs, but then I had to head to the back to greet Stella and her people. I wasn’t sure I’d even speak with her. Ardy, her manager, was handling it—I was there on hand in case they had any questions.
She came in through the service entrance, surrounded by her security team, and beamed a warm smile to Ardy as she tossed a lock of her blonde hair over her shoulder. She was pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way, and it was deceptively disarming. A lot of people wrote her off or underestimated her because of her looks, but Troy said she was razor-smart when it came to business. He’d learned so much from the country-turned-pop star.
When Stella made her entrance and appeared on stage with a microphone in hand, a buzz rippled through the crowd. Troy turned, did a double-take, and then an unstoppable grin burst on his face. He pushed his guitar to the side so he could give her a hug, and after a brief discussion, the duo turned to face their audience.
Everyone was fucking thrilled when he plucked at the guitar strings, and we recognized the opening strains of ‘Power.’ It had been a hit single he’d recorded with her, and it was released on her last album, helping him establish his name.
As I watched them, my gaze weaving through the hands holding up phones to record the performance, I was struck by how different things were now. When he’d first taken off, I’d struggled with jealousy.
Troy had become a celebrity, and, fuck, even Colin had too in his own way. They both had fans—although Colin’s were mostly online. Growing up, I’d always needed to be the center of attention. Now I was the least recognizable one from our group of friends.
But I wasn’t envious or jealous tonight.
I was just . . . happy. Troy worked hard and he deserved all the good things coming his way.
They closed out their duet to thunderous applause, and Troy uttered his thanks to Stella before she holstered her mic and exited the stage, leaving him to finish his set. His final number was fast and hard, getting people to stomp and dance along with its racing beat. He was sweating under the lights, but he looked confident and in command, and very aware he had everyone’s undivided attention.
It worked out perfectly because when the final note was struck and the lights went down, it made it seem as if the servers with trays full of glasses of champagne had appeared from nowhere.
A center spotlight lit Troy while the house lights came up.
“I want to let y’all know how special this album is for me,” he said as he grabbed the microphone and let his guitar hang on the strap over his shoulder. “And I need to acknowledge all the amazing folks at Warbler and Saga Music for their hard work.”
The champagne began to work its way through the crowd, and he held up a hand, blocking out the harsh light as he searched the audience for one person in particular.
