“Johnny.”
His voice being shouted by the drummer jerked Johnny’s head up and he visibly shook himself, rocking back on his heels before taking a deep breath and starting the song over again. When it ended, Johnny walked the perimeter of the stage, coming so close to Hope she thought she might hyperventilate. She watched as the lead singer crouched down and whispered something to one of the security guards, before straightening, giving Hope a searching look and retrieving his guitar once more.
The security guard signaled Hope forward, producing a laminated badge from his blazer pocket and handing it to her.
“Mister Scott would like to see you backstage after the show.”
“What? But…really? I’m not sure I should—”
The guard was already returning to his post.
“Hey, sorry I was gone so long. The lines were crazy,” Wyatt said, coming to a stop beside her, plastic beer cup in hand. “Did I miss anything?”
Chapter Two
The girl. The girl.
Where the hell was the girl?
Johnny Scott paced the small green room backstage, swiping at the lingering sweat on his brow. The encore had only ended two minutes ago, so being this impatient was irrational, but nothing about tonight had been remotely rational. Not in the least.
At twenty-nine, he’d been touring with Citizen for five years, almost nonstop. He’d never, not once, fucked up a song. Even now, he couldn’t really explain what tugged at his brain. One minute, he’d been giving himself a mental pep talk. You can get through this show, dammit. Give these people what they paid for. But just as he’d geared up for the second verse of “Overdrive,” his blood had hummed with awareness.
Beautiful. God, she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.
In his line of work, it wasn’t unusual to spy an attractive woman in the front row, but they never inspired anything in him but a passing notice. They were fans. At some point, they’d all started to look the same to Johnny. Faces in an endless, nonstop sea of faces. Why was tonight’s girl different?
Johnny stripped off his sweaty shirt and tossed it aside, leaning back against the wall of the green room and closing his eyes, picturing her, the girl who looked like she should be wearing a crown of flowers on her head. Big, soulful eyes. Untamed white-blonde hair. She’d been so still in the chaos of the crowd—and for the first time in a long time, the chaos inside him had gone still, too. Like she’d commanded it in a whisper only he could hear.
With a hard swallow, Johnny pushed off the wall and opened the door, scanning the bustling backstage area. He’d asked the security guard to escort the girl back to his private dressing room, but what if she’d left, instead?
Crazy as it sounded, Johnny knew he would leave the venue and go find her.
There was intuition turning over and over in his gut, telling him he would regret it forever if he didn’t find the girl from the crowd. Every time he’d looked down at her during the show, his thoughts had felt clearer, his heartbeat truer. In other words, the exact opposite of how he’d been feeling for…years. Where was she?
Johnny strode out of the dressing room shirtless, prepared to go search the streets of nowhere, South Carolina until he found her. Was it possible the man she’d been with had prevented her from coming to meet Johnny? The guy hadn’t touched her once during the show, and despite their massive size difference, he’d clocked a resemblance. They were brother and sister, he’d decided. Honestly, Johnny’s ability to finish the show had depended on them being related and not boyfriend and girlfriend.
Even the possibility of her being taken made his throat hurt like a son of a bitch—
There she was.
Johnny slowed from a fast clip to a stop, watching her through the parted sea of backstage crews and managers and press. His stomach knitted up tight and he wet his lips on reflex as their eyes met across the room. Fuck. She was a flower peeking up out of scorched earth, out of place among the wolves backstage. Johnny cut through the bodies, needing to reach her, bring her somewhere safe, where they could be alone.
He just needed to get her alone.
When Johnny and the girl were only a foot apart, he managed to take his attention off her pretty face long enough to notice her knuckles were white on the strap of her bag. The scent of fresh rain and wind hit him and his voice was hoarse when he said, “Please don’t be nervous.”
A beat passed and then she breathed a laugh. “Well, since you asked nicely…”
Johnny’s lips twitched and he stepped closer. “What’s your name?”
“Hope.” Seeming at a loss for what to do next, she finally put out her hand for a handshake, though there was barely enough room between them to fit her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I cry every time I hear ‘Undertow.’” She closed her eyes and gave a quick headshake. “I meant to play that a lot cooler.”