One Kiss from the King of Rock (The One 2)

There was some hold up and they had to wait, so she snapped a few pictures of the guys leaning on a gantry rail looking up at the stage. Grip flashed her a peace sign and then used it to make rabbit ears over Oscar’s head. It was an improvement.

Up above, Jay appeared with Janina and members of his management team, road crew and the World’s End guys. He looked down at them and grinned and then his eyes found hers and his expression went from hey everyone, isn’t this cool to Evelette Violet Tice, you’re mine.

It was a jolt, like tripping again. She should’ve bristled at the possessiveness. She was not another guitar Jay could own and tote around the world.

Should’ve. Didn’t.

Simply wondered if she was still going to have the use of her legs.

Fortunately, it looked like no one noticed until Grip sidled up beside her as they walked on. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to; his smirk was a page of dialogue.

“What?” she said. It might work to throw him off.

“Nothing,” he said, but his face was all smirky-smirk McSmirk smirk.

She stopped walking and Grip wheeled around in front of her to shield his reply. “One day you’re going to thank me for the fact your reunion with Jay featured my broken zipper.”

Grip never got enough credit for his ability to put two and two together and not come out with twenty-two and not let on that he could read the subtext. Not that she was going to give him credit now. The other rule of her engagement with Jay was secrecy.

“How do figure on that?”

“Quickest way to prove to a guy in denial that he’s full of shit is to make him watch his girl handle another man’s package.”

“I never touched your package.”

“Jay didn’t know that. You guys were gunning for each other from then on. I’m happy for you both.”

She could lie. Grip did get credit for being a vault. Information went in, but it generally got smothered there. “It’s complicated. We’re not the same people anymore.”

He patted her on the shoulder. “You keep fooling yourself, Evie.” Backing off, he added, “I want to be a bridesmaid.”

She’d have kicked him, but he was ready for it and had put too much distance between them. He’d make an amazing bridesmaid.

Oh, shut up.

By the time they got up to the stage, Jay and his crew had moved on, but his lighting team had stayed behind to talk through the band’s needs. She shot some video and posted it to all the regular places, responded to a few comments and tweets and generally got busy so she didn’t have to think about Jay and her timing problem.

Or the fact that she was standing on a large purpose-built stage, facing an arena where thousands and thousands of fans would have an absolute blast. There’d been talk that the final Sydney show would be filmed as part of a TV special, which meant what happened on this stage would reach a world audience. That was overwhelmingly good news for Lost Property. Social media was a core influencer, but nothing caught people’s attention and held it better than a big screen.

Seagulls dipped and dived above, their squealing would be replaced by a different kind of sound. She could almost feel the hypnotic thud of music in her bones, see the faces of the crowd, their arms raised. What would it feel like to perform on this stage? To stride across it under hot lights. To be the one everyone waited to see.

Just thinking about it made her pulse dance harder and a smile crack over her cheeks.

She walked toward the edge and looked out over the arena. Down below, Jay and his people were standing around the line array where all the speakers were stacked. They’d be discussing how the sound was mixed for the audience and for World’s End to be able to hear themselves onstage. People had paid to hear Jay but the sound engineer was the rock star who made Jay worth hearing in a venue like this.

What would it be like to stand here with a live mic in her hand, to have her own sound engineer, sing her own songs for people? She snapped a photo of the empty seating and then threw her arms wide and turned slowly in a circle trying to imagine what it must feel like to fill this place with music. It would transform you, change your skin, alter your brainwaves make you something entirely different, a shape you had to slip off when you returned to the ordinary world.

Her turn ended facing out front and she took a bow, bending from the waist and grinning at the make-believe applause in her ears.

“Don’t jump,” Abel quipped from behind her as she straightened, and Isaac grabbed her and made as if to push her off the edge.

She jammed her feet into the ground, making her legs go stiff and leaned back into Isaac. As he pushed, the two of them lurched forward, four feet thumping. They were nowhere near the true edge and she knew Isaac wasn’t about to hurl her over but a ripple of fear snaked up her spine all the same and a shout curdled in her throat.

“Scared yah,” Isaac said. He was excited, but instead of showing it like a normal person, he was trying to take years

off her life by threatening her physically.

She jammed her elbows into his ribs. “I’m not the one who’s scared.”