The proposal, p.20
The Proposal, page 20
There was a team of people behind mixing and lighting boards on a platform raised a little over our heads.
“This is the most amazing thing ever.” Zara held onto my arm, not wanting to get lost in the milling crowds of people, looking around at the lighting rigs and scaffolding along the sides of the stage. This close, we’d be able to see every droplet of sweat from Without Grey.
Everest walked toward his seat, but he flicked the antique lighter that was always with him open and closed against his pant leg. He’d paid extra attention to his always-perfected appearance tonight. Had he used tweezers and an oversized mirror to get each piece of hair perfectly placed on his head?
If the sportscasting thing happened, I’d ask him for hair tips. Hopefully it wasn’t susceptible to melting under TV studio lights.
Jameson practically bounded down the aisles. He’d stopped by the first merch table we’d seen, even though Hunter told him there’d be one with a lot fewer people exclusively for those with floor seating.
We found our seats. Five minutes before the start of the show, someone showed up with a tray of multicolored cups, and Hunter passed them down to our group.
The wristbands we’d gotten in our VIP packs flashed in time to the drummers count-off. The flashes flared in quicker rhythm as the floor rumbled under our feet.
Overhead, the lights roamed the crowd before zeroing back in on the front of the stage. The band took the stage one by one, amping up the crowd with each entrance. They launched into their biggest hit of the year so far. Although I didn’t listen to Without Grey much, the words had been imprinted on me by almost constant airplay and even a movie and commercial placement.
Zara stared up at the stage. The lights reflecting off her eyes and she glanced over at me with a wide grin. “This is amazing!” she shouted over the driving blaring music wrapping her fingers around my arm.
Whatever favor Hunter called in for scoring me another ticket was one hundred percent worth it for the look on her face.
We were on our feet for an hour and a half and I only felt even more energized when the band finished their second encore.
Hunter huddled up our group as rows of seats emptied behind us. “There’s an after party, but we don’t have to go.”
“Where is it? A hotel suite?” Everest clenched and unclenched his fists.
“Backstage. They put together a makeshift nightclub to celebrate the end of the tour.”
Jameson leapt forward. “Yes.” Covering his mouth, he cleared his throat and looked back at the rest of us. “I mean, I’m good with whatever the rest of the group wants to do. We don’t have to go. It’s just that I haven’t had a whole night to myself in five months, and I might never get another chance to party with my favorite ban., But I’m cool with doing whatever everyone else wants.”
August shook his head. “Real subtle.”
“What are the odds Madison and the rest of the band will even be there? They’ve probably got a private party going on somewhere else.”
Everest made a noise. It was a cross between distress and full-on berserker rage. The only place I’d heard it before was in Milwaukee, and we all knew how that had turned out.
I looped my arm around the back of Jameson’s neck. “Maybe we go and you stay.”
Everest piped up, ruining my attempt to deflect us from a train wreck. “No, we should all go.”
“Dude—”
“What? Let’s all go to the fucking party,” he snapped.
Zara came down the aisle, rejoining the group and adjusting her bag across her chest. “Hey, where to next?”
“After party.” Everest took off, following the few people headed toward a line of burly security guards scrutinizing laminates.
Zara leaned in closer, and the silky-smooth fabric of her dress brushed against my arm, raising goosebumps even though it was still piping hot as we got closer to the backstage area. “Is everything okay?
We walked down a black-fabric-lined temporary hallway. Darkness blanketed us except for the light at either end of the long walkway to the after party. “Ghosts. That’s all.”
She grabbed onto my arm and looked up into the rafters. “What?” Her head whipped from side to side and her steps collided with mine.
“Figurative ones from Everest’s past. Not actual ones.”
Her grip loosened slightly, but she kept her hands around my arm. And I didn’t mind one bit. Becoming someone she could depend on or use as a human shield against poltergeists was a role I could settle into quite easily. The floating stage floor under our feet rumbled the closer we got to the end of the long stretch. Music and lights strobed, and people milled behind the velvet ropes.
It was familiar and foreign all at once. I hadn’t been much into partying once I’d gone pro. It went stale pretty damn fast when you knew most people were only looking for a free drink or an even longer 18-year free ride. Those parties had been non-existent once I’d been injured.
“I need a drink.” Everest broke off from our group rushing the bar the second the security guard finished checking our credentials. They took this shit as seriously as anyone on the sidelines at the games had. Maybe more. I didn’t expect any streakers to come blazing across the room, though, and if they did, I didn’t think they’d get tackled to the ground. More like handed a drink and helped up onto a table to perform.
The bartender poured Everest a drink. He power-chugged it and made a motion to keep them coming.
Zara slid up next to me. “He’s really thirsty.”
August thwipped his backstage-pass laminate against his palm, keeping his gaze on Everest. “He’s something.”
Hunter took the lead, pointing to the far end of the pop-up room. “Our booth should be over there, I’ll go get us all some drinks before Everest drains the bar.”
We found our booth. Zara slid in and I sat beside her.
“How the hell does Hunter do this?” Zara leaned in close her lips less than an inch from my ear. A flush of desire thumped through my veins. Fuck, that outfit on her was insane. It was an everyday outfit, but on her an award show dress couldn’t have looked better. It hugged her body. Teasing me with a neckline that made me want to run my tongue along the curve of her breast down to the nipple—
My head shot up, and so did my dick. I dropped my hands into my lap to adjust the growing new arrival beckoned by my daydreams about Zara.
“He’s always had a way of getting whatever anyone needed. Asking too many questions would only get us an answer we wouldn’t like, so we don’t. But it was handy for the guys in college. He had a way of opening doors no matter where they went.”
“A modern magician.” She looked around the table at the rest of the guys. “It was a great show, wasn’t it?”
“Amazing.” August said, distractedly scanning the room full of beautiful people, bottles of champagne, and one impressive food display.
Jameson looked around with a huge smile on his face, like a kid out on his first field trip. “They said they’re heading into the studio in a couple months, after a break. Twenty-three months. That’s how long they’ve been on tour. It’s all on the back of our laminate.” He held it up and the mini spotlights from the dance floor caught the heated plastic, nearly blinding us all. We needed to get him out more.
“I’m sure their break will be quite relaxing.” Everest had a death grip on his tumbler. Ballsy of a place like this to have actual glasses. I’d expected plastic beer bottles and red Solo cups, but they’d taken a step up in the world. Were those King crab legs?
I leaned over to Zara. “We should find out who the caterer is.”
She jumped and looked to me. “Are you reading my mind? I thought the same thing when I saw the seafood display.”
I was rewarded with a huge smile. “They’ve kept the club vibe.” I looked up at the exposed rafters, lighting and tech dangling high above our heads. “But a bit of color would’ve brought it all together. Maybe something from their album work.”
Zara’s lips parted and her mouth fell open. “If someone didn’t know any better, they’d think you were a pro at this event planning stuff.” Her grin was infectious.
“Nah, I’ve just learned from one of the best.” I nudged her with my shoulder.
Hunter came back to our table with three servers balancing platters full of bottles and glasses.
The music shifted from a club mix of Without Grey’s latest radio hit to a ‘90s staple.
“I love this song.” Zara clapped and raised her arms above her head, nearly whacking me in the head. She was more relaxed and happy than I’d ever seen her. I let my thoughts slip before I could think of a good reason to hold them back.
“Do you want to dance?”
27
Zara
“Do you want to dance?” Leo’s deep gaze held mine.
The words were so simple I found myself nodding before I could sputter out a denial. Why should I say no? I deserved a dance. With Leo? That was a whole other ball of craziness, but it didn’t stop me from sliding out of the booth and following him out onto the dance floor.
My stomach flipped, the butterflies suddenly swallowed up by hummingbirds amped up on Red Bull. Outside of a couple of college parties, I’d never danced with a guy. And calling that dancing was a stretch. It was usually the unexpected slam against my back of a guy’s sweaty body and overeager dick until I flipped him off and found my way back to whoever I’d come to the party with. So my track record wasn’t stellar.
The pop-up dance floor wasn’t crowded like those college parties. Who knew the after parties of one of the biggest bands in the world were ultra-exclusive? Sitting in the front row, rocking out as Without Grey ripped through their hit-packed set list had already had me pinching myself at least three times throughout the night.
Whose lap did these things fall into? Certainly not mine. But whatever switch had been flipped temporarily in the luck factory, I’d take it. Was this how being with Leo felt?
He took my hand for a second to pull me to a vacant spot in the center of the dance floor. His gentle, strong grip brought back memories from my night of culinary misadventure. He’d held me close and carried me into my bedroom. Instead of embarrassment or shame that he was seeing my place, I’d felt warm and safe in his arms. I’d also been on the verge of passing out, but it didn’t feel as scary as I would have imagined when he was there.
But now we weren’t in my shitty apartment. We were dancing backstage after one of the best concerts I’d ever been to. The vibe of the crowd was kinetic energy rolled together with a gleeful communal experience. Those feelings spilled over, and keeping a smile off my face was impossible.
We danced throughout the rest of the song and straight into the next. I’d never been a party-all-night person. Tonight could be the exception.
Leo’s body moved like a man who’d spent his whole life honing it into a well-oiled machine. Dammit, now I was imagining him shirtless and well-oiled under these lights. That image would require mental filing for the next time I needed some inspiration.
He never crowded me or did the bump and grind —only a brush here or there that drew me up to the tips of my toes trying to prolong the contact. Shaking my head, I took a step back. What was wrong with me? This was Leo. As in the guy who was trying to take away the biggest account I’d ever have the chance of landing. Except it didn’t feel that way right now. Maybe…
Cheers broke out from the far end of our private club. People rushed forward.
“The band has arrived.” He didn’t even have to crane his neck to get a view. Staring intently like he was looking for something, his grim look turned apocalyptic. “Fuck,” he mumbled, barely over the driving dance beat that had replaced the 90s hit. “We should go back to the table.” He took my hand without another word and pulled me through the throngs of people who’d poured in now that the band was here.
I hopped up trying to get a look at them. I didn’t need to look very far, because they were standing right at our table.
Slipping into the booth, I tried to figure out why Without Grey was at our table and no one looked happy about it.
“Some nerve showing up here and ruining—”
A woman pressed the back of her hand against the chest of the lead singer. His face was blustery and his glare melting.
“I’ll handle it. Go enjoy the party.”
One of the other guys cut in. “You sure, Mads?”
Beside me, Everest flinched.
Her black hair was blown out, making her look like a red carpet was missing a starlet. Big cascading curls made me want to reach out and touch them. She wore a champagne bandage-dress and heels laced up her calves.
“I’m sure. You know me.” Her hands were up on her hips. Even though she was petite, she exuded big-balls energy. Holding her own didn’t seem like it was something new to her.
The band seemed to know it too. Her words pacified them and they backed away from a table like we were sporting bats wrapped in barbed wire and broken bottles. “If you need us.”
She held up her hand over her shoulder. “I won’t.” But her gaze never strayed from our table.
“Hunter, I should’ve known it was you who would ask for an extra ticket the night of a show.”
Extra ticket? Was that extra ticket me? I looked to Leo, but his gaze was trained on Mads, the woman with amazing hair.
“You know me, Maddy.”
She chuckled. “Good to see you.” She bent, kissing him on the cheek. A locket she had on a thin chain around her neck, slipped out from between her cleavage dangling in front of her.
Everest’s gaze snapped to it.
Hunter picked up his drink and held it up for a toast to himself. “I know.”
“The correct response is ‘good to see you too’.” She laughed again.
He shrugged. “Is it?” His wink was playful, but the rest of his face was set to fight or flight.
She looked at the merch bag sitting beside Jameson. “I’ll have a swag pack made up for you to take. Everything is insanely overpriced, but the merch vendors get to set their own prices.”
“August.” A nod, that was all. He’d shifted in his seat so his shoulder pinned Everest’s to the back of the booth.
“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Madison.” She held out her hand to me.
This was awkward as fuck. Half the table seemed cordial with her and the other half ready to jump across it and throttle her. I went the diplomatic route.
“Zara. Leo’s friend.”
“Friend?” She tilted her head at my hand, looking at my ring.
“It’s nothing.” I pulled my hand away and dropped it under the table, my cheeks burning. I kept forgetting to take it off. For some reason leaving it on didn’t freak me out like it had before.
“And you must be Leo. What did you call him, Everest?” She tapped her finger against her chin looking off like she needed to recall the exact words when there was no doubt she had them locked and loaded. “The overgrown high schooler clinging to his old friends because he wasn’t interesting enough to make new ones.”
Leo tensed beside me. Great, now everyone was tense except me. I was confused as hell.
“Are you fucking all of them now? Or only Camden?” Everest’s fury was so thick I could taste it.
“No more fucking than you did in Milwaukee. And who I fuck has never been any of your business.”
“For a couple years it was, until you decided it wasn’t.”
“I decided.” She lurched forward and the table rocked, slipping a few of the drinks. Taking a deep calming breath, she opened her eyes and painted an easy smile on her face. “Have a wonderful night, guys. I hope you enjoy the party.”
“Will you be enjoying it later tonight? Who gets the first round? And who’s stuck with sloppy fourths?”
Her smile widened. “They trade off. We’ve got a rotation going so no one feels left out. And everyone’s satisfied. But you wouldn’t know anything about making sure someone else is satisfied, would you?” She smirked and her arms crossed over her chest.
“I satisfied you enough. You’re still wearing that.” He nodded to the locket that had fallen free earlier.
Her hand shot to the rose gold metal. Her fingers tightened around it for a second before jerking it down, snapping the chain. Holding it out, she released her grip and let it clatter to the table. “It matched the dress, but you’re right. It belongs to you.” She left and the volume of the room came roaring back.
The bubble around the table evaporated and the too-loud voices, clinking bottles and driving bass snapped me out of the display that had made me want to turn and bury my face in the nearest hole.
Everest touched the locket like he expected it to burn him before sliding it off the table and into his waiting hand. All the barely-contained anger evaporated, replaced with a palpable grief.
“I’m out of here.”
Both sides of the booth had been vacated, which gave him his choice of escape routes.
People screamed and laughed, unaware of the implosion taking place steps away from them.
He stormed out of the backstage area, August heading out after him.
Leo touched the small of my back, jerking me from the bystander role I’d taken on in someone else’s life. “You ready to go?”
I nodded. At the bar, the woman, Madison, who’d been the storm cloud to our night out toasted, surrounded by the guys in the band, but I didn’t miss how she watched the door closing behind Everest, or how her face didn’t scream smug satisfaction.
We gathered our things, but Hunter hung back. “I’ve got some people to talk to. I’ll see you guys later. Zara, as always, it was a pleasure.” He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it. Somehow when he did it, it wasn’t smarmy or creepy or dorky. It was Hunter. No wonder he always got whatever he wanted.
Leo steered me away from him.
Jameson dropped in behind us after we made it outside, his arms laden with swag. “I couldn’t help it. I love their music and I promised my mom and Teresa. I’m catching a cab. Do you guys want to share?”
