Feeling like I was on autopilot, I pushed to my feet anyway before making my way over. Closer now, I could see her shoulders trembling.
“Hey.” Braxton whirled at the sound of my voice, her brown eyes rounder and brighter than ever. She was like a goddamn vortex, pulling me in and swallowing me whole. “Ready?”
I could already read the lie on her lips, but then she surprised me when her shoulders slumped, and the truth came tumbling out.
“Honestly? I’m not sure.” Cringing, she looked ready to take it back and assure me that she could do this.
I knew she could, but clearly, she didn’t.
“Stop.”
I didn’t know what I would do if she lied to me. My hands found her shoulders, where I gripped her tightly. It started as an innocent gesture, but now I was just too tempted. Nevertheless, I forced my hands to stay where they were. I didn’t get many excuses to touch her.
“No one let you have this moment, Fawn. You took it. You showed us what you were made of, and we decided we wanted more. So will they,” I assured her, referring to the crowd screaming our name. “And so do you.”
As if I’d done it a million times, my hands gripped her waist. There was a sliver of bare skin between her top and her pants that burned hot underneath my hands. My thumb absently rubbed the soft skin near her belly button, and even if I wanted to stop, I couldn’t.
“You want this, Brax. I know you do.” It was questionable whether I meant her newfound career or me. “Forget how you got here. All that matters is why you stayed.”
As soon as the words left my lips, I wondered what that reason was. It sure as hell hadn’t been anything we did. Braxton wasn’t motivated by money or fame. Something else had put that determined look in her eyes.
“The rest is just noise,” Loren added as he closed in. I was pulled from my thoughts when Braxton shifted her gaze. “You don’t hear it.”
Straightening, she nodded at Loren and then returned Rich’s smile. When she looked up at me, Braxton no longer looked unsure. I didn’t want to admit what that did to me.
“Great! Braxton’s motivated,” her blonde friend with the big mouth piped in. Sighing, I forced myself to meet her gaze. What was her name again? Gretchen? “But were you giving my best friend a pep talk or copping a feel? I’m confused.” To make her point, Braxton’s friend fixed her gaze on my hands, still gripping Braxton’s waist. My thumb was even still sweeping back and forth.
Fuck.
I took a step back like a kid who’d just been caught stealing from the cookie jar. Loren lifted his chin arrogantly, even while his eyes flashed with jealousy. He was smug because he was right.
I wanted to fuck Braxton.
Loren’s anger was because he believed his childish claim would keep me from acting on it. Rich just looked resigned to breaking up a fight between us at any moment now.
“Let’s go.”
My order broke the tension as everyone shifted gears. The tour had sold out, and right now, they were waiting. We didn’t need any more publicity.
The opening act finished, and immediately, the stage crew began to reset for us. Someone handed me a mic, Loren his bass, Rich his drumsticks, and Braxton a headset since she was backup vocals in addition to playing lead and rhythm. It baffled me that anyone could question why I rode her so hard.
When Braxton checked her tuning and headset, even though we trusted our crew to get it right, I caught my smile before it could slip.
She wasn’t sloppy. I’d give her that.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, scattering my thoughts to the wind. It didn’t matter how many times I took the stage. Each time felt like the first. With a new member, it was more like I was fresh out of my grandmother’s basement.
The apocalyptic backdrop we’d chosen for our stage loomed ahead when the house lights went out, and the screams of eighteen thousand people welcomed Braxton, Loren, and Jericho. I hung back as rehearsed, and while I waited for my cue from Jericho, I watched Braxton closely. No one would ever know she hadn’t done this a million times before.
Wisely, I knew nothing with Braxton was ever that simple. The subtle cues she gave were only obvious to someone who watched her too closely and too often. Right now, she avoided looking at the crowd. It was for the best since picturing them in their underwear was a sham.
Jericho didn’t wait for the screams to die before he started on the drums. He was my timekeeper, telling me exactly when to start and how to end. All the anger he kept inside, desperate to be the nice guy, he always let loose when he was on stage. Gripping the mic, I closed my eyes and let the foundation he set become my atlas. Loren smoothly followed with the bass and Braxton…she blew my fucking mind. Thirty seconds in, once the rhythm was set, I emerged from the shadows and lifted my mic.