Idol (VIP 1)

Brenna’s face changes. “Okay…”

“We doing the Late Night Show tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you make sure Killian sees me on it?” I know she can. Between her and Scottie, they could take over the world if they wanted to.

“Sure thing.”

“All right, then. I have to practice a song.” I head for my room. One thing is certain: the tight band I’ve kept around my emotions has snapped. And now broken, nothing can hold back the tide. I need to find my way back to happy.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Killian

I have no idea where the fuck we are. I don’t really care. Jax can shout the customary, “Hello, insert whatever the hell town,” for once. Our dressing room is like all the rest: stark and filled with people who don’t need to be here.

A shrill laugh stabs at my nerves. I don’t bother looking to see who it is. Scottie’s brought in a small TV. Libby is going to perform on the Late Night Show. She’s in L.A. Right, I’m in New York. Hours behind her.

Scottie gives me a nod, turns on the TV, and sits in the chair beside me, crossing one leg over the other like the elegant bastard he is.

On the screen, the audience claps, Libby having already been announced. And there she is, walking on to the tiny soundstage with that determined stride I know so well. Brenna has developed a signature look for her: flowing, almost bohemian knee-length sundresses and big, chunky combat boots. Pure Libby.

My chest clenches at the sight of her, a pang of longing shooting through my heart. It hurts seeing her. Agitated, I turn the volume up high as she gives the audience a nod of acknowledgment.

Libby plucks a few strings on her Martin, then leans closer to the mic. Her pretty lips are glossy and pink, and the ghost of their touch tickles along my neck.

“My best friend in the world taught me this lesson,” she says in that sweet vanilla cream voice of hers. “Just took me a while to believe it.”

And my heart pounds. Am I that friend? I hate that I have to ask myself. God, please let it be me.

Libby starts singing Prince’s “Cream.” Perfect tune, perfect delivery. There’s a little smile about her mouth, almost wry, a bit bittersweet. And she looks at the camera—directly at it, as if she finally owns her talent. Her song choice confirms it, the lyrics about taking your chance, reaching for what you want in life.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. A frisson runs over me, just as powerful as when I first stepped on stage. I can actually feel the world shifting gears, changing her life and mine into something new once again.

A girl tries to hang on my arm. I brush her off without taking my eyes from the screen. “Do you see her?” I say to no one in particular. “Right there, that’s my girl. Isn’t she fucking luminous?”

Whip stares down at the TV with a proud smile. “That she is, man.”

I turn to Jax. “And I made her feel like I didn’t want her when I sent her away. Because I’m an idiot.”

Jax sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “And I’m an asshole. Kills, man, I encouraged her to leave the tour. Said you’d be distracted by her. But that was my own shit talking, me trying to put things back the way they were before.”

I should be pissed. But mostly I’m just tired of struggling to pretend everything is normal. “We broke, Jax,” I tell him while watching the TV. “We’re gluing ourselves back together, but it’s never going to be the same.”

“Fuck. I know.”

The defeat in his voice makes me bump his shoulder with mine. “We’re not who we were. We’re better. Evolution, Jax. Not regression.”

He shakes his head, but he’s fighting a smile. “I’m sorry, though. I miss her too.”

Libby’s smoky voice snags my attention again. “She’s it for me. It’s a done deal.” I’ve been hers since the second she hosed me down and woke me up. “My life doesn’t work anymore without her in it.”

“I know, man. We all know it.” Jax puts a hand on my shoulder. “Do this show, and then you go get your girl.”

Libby

It takes forever to wash the makeup off my face. By the time I’m done, my skin is pink and angry at me. But I feel better. Freer. Sometimes all it takes in life is to decide to own it. And everything changes. Would Killian understand? I sang that song for him as much as for myself—to tell him I finally got it. Life is what you make of it. I know that now. Because of him.

I hear Brenna enter the suite and go out to meet her. She has a box of pizza in one hand.