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He’s smiling from ear to ear.
When he starts to sing, I hit record on my camera and take a five-minute video for Lily, panning out to show her the huge crowd.
Me and Alex stand so we can see better. Kelley’s deep, raspy voice is a force. It lassos the crowd, pulling them in. It’s unbelievable how much he sounds like the original singer. He owns the stage like he was born on it, sauntering from one side to the other, belting out notes that vibrate down to our cores.
Five songs later, I finally hear from Lily:
Lily:
OMG. He looks and sounds amazing. I wish I was there!
We miss you! I hope you’re feeling better.
“He sounds fucking awesome,” Alex yells.
“He looks incredible up there!” I yell back. “I can’t believe that’s our Kelley!”
The stage lights dim, and the crowd roars at the first notes of a piano solo—the intro to their most popular ballad—a heartbreaking love song. Kelley cups the mic in his tattooed hands, eyes closed, sweat on his brow. A hush falls over the crowd. This moment could make or break him. It's the song everyone wants to hear. If he fails to do it justice, it could be disastrous. Shivers run down my spine hearing the first verse. Alex hugs me from behind, and I lean back against him, swaying to the music together. Being in his arms always feels like heaven.
Kelley completely nails it. The sheer emotion in his voice has moved me—and probably everyone else—to tears. He’s totally embodied the heartache and anguish of the lyrics.
When the song ends, the audience goes completely apeshit, clapping and screaming.
“I think we just witnessed a star being born,” I say to Alex.
“I think you’re right. Let’s see if we can get backstage.”
We find Kelley surrounded by at least twenty people waiting for his autograph. It’s surreal. He breaks away for a few minutes to talk to us. Adrenaline is radiating from him. We hug him and tell him how proud we are. His bright-blue eyes are lit with excitement and disbelief. People begin to pull him in ten different directions, so we say goodbye to let him enjoy this amazing moment.
“Something tells me Kelley won’t be a landscaper much longer,” Alex comments as we walk back to the grassy area we were sitting at earlier.
“He deserves it. You’d never be able to tell that was his first performance in front of a big crowd.”
“I’m not really a big fan of the other bands that are playing. How do you feel about grabbing some snacks and going home early to watch a movie with Lily? I’m willing to endure a cheesy horror film for her. I feel bad she’s spending the night alone when she doesn’t feel good.”
“Say less. I don’t think my ears can take any more. They’re still ringing.”
When we get to the car, Alex unlocks the door, then pushes me against it, caging me in with his arms against the window on either side of my head.
A little gasp escapes from my throat.
His face is inches from mine. “Hi,” he says in a low voice.
“Hi…” I breathe.
He grins. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
“I’ve been thinking about you, too.”
Winding a lock of my hair around his finger, he says, “I like the little heart-shaped sprinkles you’ve been putting on my latte every morning.”
I smile and feel my cheeks heat. “Just a little something so you don’t forget about me.”
“There’s zero chance of that.”
“Good.”
“I really want to kiss you before we go back home.”
Heart fluttering, I reach up and wind my arms around his neck. “Do you?”
His body presses against mine. “More than anything.”
My gaze drifts to his full lips. “Then you should.”
Without further encouragement, he cups his hand behind my neck and pulls me to him. His mouth covers mine, open and warm. Soft at first, then deeper. Possessive. We sigh into each other as if we’ve been holding our breath since the last time we kissed. His tongue slowly sweeps against mine. My knees begin to wobble, causing me to tighten my arms around him and press my body into his as our tongues slowly dance together. A low moan sounds in his throat.
I wonder if all men kiss this way. So deep and sensual, stealing breath and balance, making time stop.
I don’t want to ever find out.
His other hand grasps my waist, then slowly travels down over my ass. It rests there for a moment, fingertips digging into the thin denim before skimming farther down to the back of my thigh. My body instinctively knows what he wants. Lifting my leg, I curve it around his waist. He sinks into me, hips grinding, and kisses me deeper.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers, raining kisses across my jawline.
I’m not. If I were perfect, I wouldn’t be trapped in an eighteen-year-old forced to be in a secret situationship that entails heart-shaped candies, late-night text messages, and kisses in dark parking lots.
