Twenty-Four
Phoenix
I snap a photo of The Peach Pit’s marquee sign listing Icarus Ignites as the headliner for tonight’s sold-out show and send it off to my father with absolutely zero context.
Then I send another for good measure, this one of the VIP pass hanging from the lanyard around my neck before looking around at the scenery.
We’re at one of Chicago’s oldest music venues—one I’ve never been to in my three years at Leighton—and it’s near the heart of downtown, surrounded by massive high-rises, condos, and office buildings that dominate the skyline.
Despite being a smaller venue with standing-room only, it still retains a lot of notoriety for bringing in some of the best acts to the Chicago metro area—a bit like the Opry does for country music back home.
It’s one of the many reasons I’m excited to finally be here.
My phone buzzes in my hand, alerting me of my father’s text, and I check the screen.
Dad: Have fun. Let me know if they’re any good. Might have to sign them. ;)
I let out a little laugh, seeing as he knows damn well how good these guys are. Even if their lead singer can be a tad bit problematic.
“You look like a kid in a candy store,” Holden says suddenly, amusement laced in his tone.
I glance up to find him watching me from where he’s leaning against the wall. He’s looking sexier than should be allowed in a fitted black long-sleeve shirt—one he’s bound to be dying of heatstroke in later—and a black snapback sitting backward on his head.
“What makes you say that?”
“Don’t act like you weren’t just snapping pics of the sign and sending them off to your dad.” He glimpses at my phone, leaning toward me and pretending to look at the screen. “What’d he say, by the way? He said I did good, right?”
Pocketing my phone, I frown. “He said nothing about you, actually.”
Holden narrows his eyes at me. “Only because you didn’t tell him about the super awesome, ridiculously hot guy who’s taking you to see one of the best up-and-coming bands in metalcore, right? Even though he and I are best friends now?”
I laugh softly at the best friends comment, knowing it might not be that far off.
When he wasn’t entertaining Charlotte with those ridiculous photos of Francesco the Flamingo, Holden spent most of our night in Nashville last month chatting with my dad.
Mainly about his job in the music biz; something Dad is more than happy to go on about for hours.
And to his credit, Holden was thoroughly engaged in the entire conversation, even asking him things I never thought to ask as his own kid.
Like why he started in the business or why this particular genre of music.
Not sure if that merits the title of best friend, though I could tell from the smile on my father’s face, he really enjoyed talking with Holden.
I cross my arms and arch a brow. “You wanna know what he would say if I told him about the super awesome, ridiculously hot guy who took me to see Icarus Ignites for a first date?”
“What?”
“He would’ve said it’s too bad he wasn’t told ahead of time, because he could’ve gotten us backstage.”
He rolls his eyes. “Fair enough. But I bought these tickets months ago during the artist presale, so I figured we might as well use them. Even if backstage passes would have been a lot more fun.”
“Artist presale?” I ask with a laugh and a shake of my head. “You really are a closet emo, after all.”
“I just have good taste in music,” he says, brow lifted in a defiant way I find oddly sexy. Funny, seeing how a couple of months ago I would’ve only found it irritating instead.
“I don’t buy it. I think you’re afraid for the world to find out the golden retriever is really a black sheep.”
His lips quirk up in amusement. “Black sheep? Really? I think you’re projecting a bit there, Nix.”
“Mmm,” I hum while walking toward him. “And I think you’re just wearing a mask of the popular playboy when you’re really just as sad and lonely as the rest of us.”
He kicks a brow up, even more amused now. “Well, if that’s the case, I don’t feel very sad or lonely right now.”
God. I don’t know what to say or think when stuff like that comes outta his mouth. But I do know it makes my stomach twist and swirl with a strange feeling I can’t decipher.
As I approach, he slides his feet apart, leaving space for me to stand between his legs that I’m more than happy to occupy.
My hands land on either side of his head, caging him in the way he has me so many times before.
From the bright smile taking over his face as his arms wrap around my waist, he’s thinking the same thing.
He links his fingers at the small of my back, holding me against him. “What the hell am I gonna do with you, hmm?”
“You know, I’ve been asking myself the same question for weeks now.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, if you’ve come up with any answers, please do feel free to share them with the rest of the class.”
My head dips and I whisper in his ear. “Why would I do that? You’re the one with the photographic memory. Surely you can figure it out.”
His soft, throaty laugh sends my heart bouncing through my chest cavity like a pinball, but not as much as the brush of his lips against my jaw.
“And you said I was trouble.”
There’s nothing I want more at this moment than to show him just how much trouble I can be. Lay one on him right here and now with countless people around us; be freely affectionate without worrying about it somehow getting back to Kason. It’s more than tempting.
My phone vibrates against my thigh, and when I check the screen, I expect it to be my dad again. So when it’s not, and I see the name, my stomach drops instantly.
Kason: What are you doing?
Swallowing harshly, I lift my phone between mine and Holden’s body and type out the most watered-down response I can think of without lying to him.
Me: On a date.
His response is almost immediate.
Kason: Wait, since when are you dating someone?
I’m painfully aware of Holden’s eyes on me while my fingers hover over the keyboard, not entirely sure what to say.
Me: It’s new. A first date. Nothing serious.
My own screwed-up version of two truths and a lie.
The first two sentences aren’t a lie at all. This is Holden’s and my first date. And new…well, I guess it depends on what we’re defining. The feelings rapidly developing for him since we got back are undeniably new.
Still, the part about it not being serious? Shit, I know deep in my gut it’s a lie. Nothing about this thing with Holden feels casual anymore. In truth, it hasn’t since the moment I cuffed him to his bed before we ever went to Florida.
I watch as the three little dots move while Kason types out a response, feeling a mixture of relief and shame as I read his final text.
Kason: Oh, okay. Well, have fun. Let me know if you need me to call with a fake emergency like they do in the movies. ;)
Groaning softly, I shove my phone back in my pocket before gripping Holden’s waist and resting my forehead in the crook of his neck. His fingers scrape against my lower back in a soothing caress, and I feel him brush his lips over the spot above my ear.
“Nothing serious, huh?” he murmurs, and even though I hear the playfulness in his tone, I don’t have it in me to look at him. Probably because I’d be forced to acknowledge just how false my statement was, and that’s not something I’m ready to do out loud.
“What else am I supposed to tell him?” I whisper.
But I don’t even need to ask. Just like I don’t have to look at his face to know exactly what he thinks I should have told Kason.
The truth.
“I stand corrected,” Holden says from beside me, knocking his shoulder against mine as we stand at the barricade between the last opener and the headlining sets.
“About?”
“ Now you’re a kid in a candy store.”
I grin over at him, too high on the music to argue differently.
Both of the opening acts killed their sets, and the energy radiating through the crowd as we’re waiting for the headliners to take the stage is top-notch.
The VIP meet and greet was also cool, despite having already met the band when they first got signed.
Add in how the vibe between Holden and I is still playful and fun—even after Kason’s momentary interruption—and the night has been nothing short of exhilarating.
And though it’s nowhere close to over, I think this is probably the best date I’ve ever been on.
As if reading my mind, Holden leans in closer to murmur, “Pretty good first date, right?”
“You honestly need me to boost your ego?”
He lets out a low chuckle, the decadent sound floating over my skin like satin. “I just want to know you’re having fun.”
“Oh, I can assure you, I am.” I lift a brow. “The question is, are you?”
“Yeah, it’s been great,” he responds, though it comes out a little too quickly. Then a frown forms on his lips before he adds, “Why would you think I’m not?”
I turn his way. “Because you’ve been antsy as shit the entire time.”
An embarrassed grin takes over his face, telling me he was aware of it as well, but probably hoping I wouldn’t notice. It becomes even more evident when his cheeks take on a pink tint I know isn’t from the heat of all these bodies jam-packed together like sardines.
“You’re about to judge me so hard for what I’m about to say,” he starts, a wry smile still in place. “I normally like to be in the pit for the heavier songs.”
“Black sheep,” I mutter immediately.
Some mixture of a sigh and laugh leaves him, and he shakes his head. “See. Judgment.”
“It’s not, and even if it was, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it.” I tilt my head to the side, studying him. “So, why haven’t you gone back there yet?”
One brow hitches up as he looks at me, his tone is laced with sarcasm when he replies, “Probably because I didn’t wanna be that asshole who leaves you on the first date to go get thrown around by other dudes.”
“Hey, if that’s what gets you going…”
“You’re right, it could be a fun form of foreplay.”