Chapter Thirty-Six
Paige
“I swear, the more crowds we play, the rowdier they get,” I say as we step into the wings, the evidence following us in the roar of Madison Square Garden still screaming our name.
“Sick, isn’t it?” Eli grins, wiping sweat off his forehead. “I could get used to this.”
“This is nothing,” Reign says, cool as hell, as he hooks a mic pack around his waist.
A stylist mists hairspray over his head, fussing with his curls, flattening one while tweaking another, trying to give him that effortless bedhead look.
He lets her work until she steps back, satisfied, only for him to rake a hand through it with a cheeky grin, undoing the whole thing.
She laughs, shaking her head as she walks away, before he turns to me.
“Wait till we hit LA for the final show before the break,” he says as he takes the earpiece from a stagehand and slides it in. “SoFi Stadium holds seventy thousand, easy.”
My eyes widen, jaw dropping as he smirks.
“Seventy-thou… Oh my god,” I breathe out, a torrent of nerves flooding my stomach. I knew it was big; I just didn’t think it was that big.
Reign chuckles as he grabs his guitar. “Don’t worry. Once that roar hits you and the adrenaline kicks in, you’ll be hooked for life.”
“Reign, you’re up.”
He tosses me a wink, heading to the stage and stepping out to thunder, swallowed by flashing lights and the strum of his first chord pulses along the floor, vibrating through my body.
Beau and Eli drift toward the side of the stage, towels slung over their shoulders.
Beau pulls out his phone, filming Reign while Eli grabs a water bottle and slumps onto an equipment case, whistling loudly as Reign starts to sing.
I hover near the curtain, adrenaline still coursing in my veins, my pulse not ready to settle, unable to wipe the smile from my lips. I place a hand over my chest, letting the thud-thump of my heartbeat pound against my palm.
“That was the best city yet,” I say to myself more than anyone.
Behind me, Maddox snorts. I turn around, finding him leaning against a speaker, half hidden in shadows, arms crossed, shirt damp with sweat and his hair still a mess from our show.
“Chicago was better.”
Narrowing my eyes, I shift a step toward him. “Are you serious? They lost their minds to ‘Stay With Me.’”
“They screamed louder for ‘Crash.’”
I shake my head, part disbelief, part heat crawling up my neck. “Are we really debating crowd reactions right now?”
“Not debating,” he says, voice lower now. “Just stating facts.”
“You’re such an ass.”
I glance behind me, checking that Eli and Beau are still watching Reign’s set, laughing and talking, no clue what’s happening five feet away.
I turn back and step toward Maddox, lowering my voice, seduction lacing into my tone. “You love doing this, don’t you? Trying to get under my skin. Poking at me just to see how far I’ll go.”
His mouth curves, slow and dangerous, not saying a single word. One look and I’m stripped bare, his eyes daring me, taunting me the way they’ve been doing recently, making everything in me tighten.
Maddox lifts his hand, running his thumb along my lower lip. “You make it so easy.”
It’s Pavlovian, him and me. Our fighting? The push and pull? It’s a delicious form of foreplay that only fuels the fire burning between us more.
Opening my mouth, I nip at his thumb, his eyes darkening as he presses closer…
“Giiiiiiiiirl!”
I whirl at the high-pitched screaming just in time to see Olive running through the small crowd backstage, her VIP badge swinging in front of her, purse held high as she navigates toward me.
“Look at you!” She throws herself at me, arms clinging to my neck. “I am so proud of you, babe. You were amazing.”
“You’re meant to still be out there watching the show.” I chuckle, hugging her tightly.
“Pfft,” she says, waving me off. “I got to see the real star of the night. I don’t care about anyone else.”
“Who’s your friend?” Eli asks, appearing by my side, arm extended. “Eli James.”
She drags her gaze over his body, lips pursed in approval, head tilted seductively as she slides her hand in his.
“Mmm, your photos don’t do you justice. I’m Olive, best friend of this one.” She thumbs toward me, hardly acknowledging me as Beau wanders over too. “Hello, handsome.”
I could laugh at Beau’s face as he falters mid-step, clearly not used to being looked at like prey.
“Damn,” she purrs, eyeing him from head to toe in the same way she did Eli, eyes cataloging his tattoo-covered arms. “You’re tall. I like that.”
“I…uh…thanks?” he manages, rubbing the back of his neck.
She steps closer, totally unfazed, leaning in. “So, you’re the one with the fast fingers?” She pauses purposely, letting her question hang. “On the guitar.”
“I finger my bass pretty hard, too,” Eli pipes up, shoving his shoulder into Beau’s.
Olive smiles, and I realize with growing horror that my best friend’s just getting started. “Oh, honey, I know. I love a man who knows what to do with his…hands.”
“That’s enough,” I say as I tug her arm and pull her back.
She sticks out her lower lip in a pout before turning to the last man in the group, stepping around the others until she’s so close she’s practically in his face. “And you must be Maddox.”
Maddox’s gaze cuts to me, and I can feel my cheeks warm. Olive doesn’t miss it, her grin mischievous as she barrels on, not letting him answer.
“Oh, he is the one.”
“Okay,” I say too loud, clapping my hands and stepping between them. “Can we not?”
But Olive winks, eyes bouncing between us with clear amusement. “Paige has told me so many things about you.”
“Liv,” I hiss through my teeth.
“You're so right about his lips, too. They are suckable,” she whispers, but like Eli, she doesn't have an inside voice, and Maddox hears everything.
“Hey, you’re not as quiet as you think you are,” I say, shoving her lightly toward Eli. “Go and watch Reign.”
Eli springs into action and holds his arm out. “I can give you a tour backstage too, if you like.”
“Of course you could,” Beau mutters, a little flustered from Olive’s energy.
“Stay out of trouble,” I remind my best friend, because wherever Olive is, that’s exactly what seems to happen.
“But how can I when I have two sexy musicians as my chaperones?” When I don’t laugh, she rolls her eyes. “Fine, Paige, I’ll behave.” She links her arms into Beau’s and Eli’s, tossing a wink over her shoulder. “Come on, boys, show me what it’s like to be one of your groupies.”
“We’re not allowed groupies on our bus.” I hear Eli’s pout, like he wants her to feel sorry for him.
“Oh, honey, I’m sure we can change that.” Olive cackles loudly, and as I watch them walk away, I have the sudden urge to go after them.
“I should stay with her,” I mumble as Maddox steps in behind me, his hands sliding onto my waist. “Those two are going to be eaten alive.”
“They’ll be fine,” he mutters, dipping his head and dragging his nose slowly up the curve of my neck. My head lolls to the side, an unconscious reflex to him as he leaves open-mouthed kisses along my throat. “So…you talk about me with your friend?”
Embarrassment floods my chest, moving outward until it coats every inch of visible skin. “I–”
He spins me so we’re face to face, lifting a hand, his fingers pointedly toying with his lips. “Suckable, huh?”
I jerk back, looking around to check where our friends are, but they’re long gone, swallowed by the excitement of the backstage crowd. My fingers curl at my sides, itching to touch him, my body drawn to his whenever he’s near.
I hate that I need him like this now, how easily we both forget why we’re supposed to be careful. But after that kiss in the bus, keeping our distance has only gotten harder.
“She needs to learn to keep her mouth shut,” I mutter, pulse hammering in my throat.
But Maddox doesn’t laugh as he crowds into my space again.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he growls, eyes darkening.
My stomach flips, and I swallow hard. “Maddox…”
But he’s not finished. He lowers his voice, his words mine and mine alone.
“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are up there?” he asks, molten lava dripping from his tone. “Behind that kit. Legs spread. All fire and sweat and noise.” His gaze trails down my body, like he’s already undressing me. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”
The air leaves my lungs, my skin tingling as I stare up at him. He’s a delicious kind of danger, making me want things I know I shouldn’t. Especially not with the rest of the band and Olive mere feet away.
I take a shaky breath, the taut cord connecting us close to snapping. The unseen tether pulling us together, making us do stupid and reckless and risky things when no one is watching. I need him, need his hands on me, his mouth anywhere I can get it.
It’s been too long since we were last alone properly, and I can’t wait another second. Not when he’s this addictive.
I snap first, moving fast, rounding unused equipment and disappearing into a dark corridor behind some flight cases.
I don’t have to look back to know he’s following me.
The second we slip into the shadows, I spin, shoving my back against the wall and yanking him into me by his shirt collar.
His hands slam on either side of my head, caging me between his arms, and even in the darkness, with only thin slices of stage lights bleeding in, I can see the hunger in his eyes.
I’m already panting, adrenaline and need colliding together, my hands on him, greedy and rough, sliding down his chest, fingers curling into his waistband.
Leaning in, his breath hits my lips, eyes tracking the slow sweep of my tongue as I wet them before he kisses me, hard and sudden with no warning.