“Do you ever miss home?” I asked. I’d only been away for a few days, and already I missed my father more than I could say. It had always been just the two of us, ever since we lost my mom. I couldn’t imagine leaving him indefinitely to go half a world away, no matter how much I loved my music.

“I do, of course,” Howie said. “Especially my little sister. She’s thirteen now. But that’s part of growing up, isn’t it? You move out, do your own thing, start your own life.”

“I guess,” I said, considering. I hadn’t thought about the prospect of moving out of my dad’s house, had never seen the need. The two of us were happy. I guess, vaguely, in the back of my mind, I’d always assumed that I would move out when I got married, but that had always felt like the very distant future, nothing to waste time worrying about.

“I think it’s brave,” I said, and Howie gave me a questioning glance. “I mean, to leave your home and your family to go to a whole new country where you don’t know anyone.”

Howie shrugged. “It was an adventure. And I knew that if it didn’t work out, I could always go back home.”

“But it did work out,” I said, and Howie grinned. I felt an overwhelming urge to touch his cheek, to feel one of those dimples under my fingers, but I restrained myself.

“I guess it did,” Howie said. He pulled up short as we reached the end of the backstage area.

“So here’s the stage,” Howie said, a little unnecessarily. “You want to check it out?”

Hesitantly, I stepped out onto the stage, trying to imagine what it would feel like with the stage lights on, with an audience. I looked out at the house and swallowed hard. This was by far the biggest venue the Sinful Sisters had ever performed in. I felt a flutter of nerves low in my stomach, even as I reminded myself that with the house lights down and the stage lights on, I wouldn’t even be able to see the audience. Not to mention, I would be in disguise. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks to Demi, wherever she was.

“Pretty cool, right?” Howie said, grinning. He checked his watch. “Oh, shoot, sound check is in like half an hour. I should let you get ready.” He looked at me. “Think you can find the dressing room okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I said, hoping that this was true. “You go ahead.”

Howie smiled, and squeezed my hand again. “It was very nice to meet you, Ella,” he said. “I very much hope we get some time to chat after the show.” His light green eyes held my gaze for a second longer than necessary, and then he was hurrying off, leaving me breathless in his wake. What had just happened?

Dazed, I began to pick my way back through the backstage area, tripping over coils of rope and discarded equipment, before I finally had to admit that I was lost. How big could this place be? I began to panic slightly.

“Lost?” someone behind me asked, and I gasped, whirling. The man behind me took a step back, holding his violin in the air. “Didn’t mean to startle you!” he said. “I come in peace.” He held out the hand not holding the violin. “I’m Jason.”

“I know,” I said automatically, then blushed. That was so not cool. “I’m Ella,” I said. “I’m opening for you tonight. My band, I mean.”

“That’s great,” Jason said. “What do you play?”

“I’m just a singer,” I said. “Well, I play a little guitar, but Martine—that’s our manager—said it was better for our image if I focused on singing.” Jason, I remembered, played the mandolin and the banjo, in addition to the violin. My own talents seemed pretty measly in comparison.

“I can’t wait to hear you,” Jason said, and smiled, his teeth flashing brilliant white against his dark skin. I found myself momentarily at a loss for words.

“I think I’m lost,” I admitted finally. “Can you point me in the direction of the dressing room?”

“I’ll do you one better than that, I’ll take you there,” Jason said. “Follow me.”

As we walked, I kept sneaking peeks at Jason, taking in his curly brown hair, warm eyes, and creamy skin. He was even more attractive in person than he was in their videos. Apparently oblivious to my stares, Jason asked me questions as we walked. “How long have you been singing?” he asked.

“Since I was a little girl,” I said. “My parents put me in the church choir, and I just . . . fell in love.” I hoped that didn’t sound silly. “You play both mandolin and violin, right?”

“And the banjo,” Jason added cheerfully. “But there isn’t much call for me to show off that particular skill.”

Tags: Nicole Casey Seven Ways to Sin Fantasy
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