Chapter 50
Eric
Equipment is set up, set lists and music are prepped, and the crowd continues to grow louder.
We made it to Charlotte just a couple of hours ago—our last show in the city that all of us call home.
It’s not the largest venue, barely in the top half when you look at maximum capacity.
But the roar of voices is deafening, sounding like it comes from an entire city’s worth of people.
Dmitri finds me lurking in the shadows backstage. He darts to my side and pulls me into a hug. Slowly, his hands trace a path up my torso and neck until they rest on my cheeks. His touch is sweetly intimate, while also jolting my body like a syringe of coffee straight to my veins.
His gaze shifts to my headset before focusing on my eyes. “It’s off,” I whisper.
He doesn’t miss the shake in my voice. “Are you nervous?”
“Terrified,” I answer too quickly.
I don't know what to expect tonight, and a million thoughts and what-if scenarios race through my head. Will it be like any other night, or will I find judgment in the eyes of the crowd? Could I buckle under the pressure and ruin the entire concert?
Do any of them even care at all?
Dmitri is watching me closely, so I push the concerns out of my mind.
“It’s the last show of the tour,” he says. “Get through tonight and we can lie low for a while. Actually, you know, I’ve been thinking—”
“Still terrifying,” I tease.
He scoffs, but his eyes don’t leave mine. “Move in with me.”
I stumble back against the wall as I stare at him. “What?”
A smile quirks on his lips. “You heard what I said, Eric. Leave that tiny little apartment and move into my house with me.”
I study him for a minute. His dark eyes stay steady, locked on mine and giving me space to process. “You’re serious.”
He nods. “I know our relationship has been bumpy, and a lot of things haven’t gone right.
Fuck, more has gone wrong than has ever gone right, but none of that is important.
All that matters is that I love you, and you love me.
” He weaves his fingers through mine, bringing my hand to his mouth and dotting kisses across my knuckles.
“We’ve spent enough time apart, don’t you think? ”
“Yeah,” I whisper, mind spinning.
“I had to miss you for six years. Every fucking day I replayed things—stuff I said, shit I did wrong, all the words I never got out. I regretted every single one.” He pauses and exhales hard.
“Some people might say it’s too soon, but fuck them.
They don’t know us. You’re everything to me.
My whole damn world. And I don’t want to spend another night without you. ”
I picture it for a moment.
Waking up each morning to his infectious smile, then ending every day pressed against the soothing warmth of his body. Laughing, teasing. Playing music, talking, burning dinner and dancing in the kitchen as smoke swirls around us. Inevitably fighting. So much making up.
God, that sounds incredible.
His nose nuzzles my jaw, lips tracing a path to my ear before he nibbles my lobe. “And besides,” he whispers, “how else am I going to hear you scream my name every night unless we’re always together?”
A breathy huff of laughter escapes me. “If I remember correctly, you were the one screaming my name.”
“Hmmm,” he hums quietly as I squirm under his feather-light touches. “Well, we’ll just agree that it’s a condition we both suffer from.”
“Oh, it’s suffering now, is it?” I tease, breath hitching as he grips my chin.
The firmness of his hand surprises me as he drags his thumb across my lower lip. “Stop deflecting and answer me.”
“Yes, of course,” I whisper, trying to pull his solid frame closer for more. “The answer was always yes. The answer will always be yes.” Something shifts in his eyes and then he’s kissing me like his entire existence depends on it.
“Three minutes, lovebirds,” Dante calls.
I press my palms to Dmitri’s chest to nudge him back. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m about to have a situation in front of all these people,” I grumble, shifting awkwardly as I try to rein my body in.
His smile turns wicked. “A situation, huh?”
“Yes, a big situation.” We walk toward the stage, and that joy shifts to panic. “Fuck, I’m going to be sick,” I mutter.
His hand slides into mine and squeezes, but as we get closer, he loosens his hold. My fingers tighten instinctively, refusing to release him. The truth is out there now, and we swore we’d face it together.
“Don’t let go,” I plead quietly.
Dmitri turns to face me, leaning in for one last soft kiss as the stage lights flare to life. “Never. I’m right here, superstar.”
My heart slams against my rib cage as the roar of voices explodes in the stadium, growing even louder as we walk out.
For a moment I can’t face them, and I stare at the floor as we take our places.
Dmitri stays true to his word and doesn’t drop my hand until he has to, but he squeezes my fingers once, waits for me to look at him, then releases me and heads to his kit.
The stage lights burn my eyes as I take my place front and center with trembling limbs, flipping on my headset and bracing for the worst. I blink against the brightness, giving myself a second to breathe as my eyes adjust and the audience comes into view.
A stunned gasp leaves me, picked up by the headset and echoing through the venue.
Thousands are on their feet, screaming and jumping with wild energy. Signs are everywhere. Handwritten and printed, painted and drawn. Every color of the rainbow—pinks and blues, yellows and purples. Some small with letters I can barely read, others so big they need three people to hold them up.
I’m speechless, eyes darting everywhere.
We love Eric and Sticks!
We shipped you before the mic was on.
I want you, I love you—an homage to our broadcasted fight, I realize.
A laugh slips out as a blonde near the front screams and shakes her sign at me. Gay’s the only way.
Tears stream down my face in hot trails as I take in the overwhelming support from every corner of the venue. “Thank you,” I say, but it comes out as a strangled sob, and the crowd only cheers louder as I stand there with my bleeding heart in my hands.
The words pour from the crowd in a jumble of sounds I struggle to untangle, but their resounding support is crystal clear.
Never have I ever been so close to falling to my knees.
I take a moment to compose myself before raising my hands and requesting quiet.
It takes another minute for the uproar to calm enough for me to speak.
“I take it the cat’s out of the bag?”
The room erupts once more. “Kiss him!” someone shouts, and as I laugh, it becomes a chant rolling through the crowd.
Sporting a wide grin, I turn toward Dmitri and find him watching me with that delightful dimple on his cheek, wearing a smile that could rival a thousand stars.
I extend my hand and curl my fingers at him, asking him to join me.
Panic flashes in his eyes as they widen and dart over the crowd, his head shaking frantically.
My eyes narrow, and I can almost hear his nervous scoff as he runs a hand through his hair, then finally stands.
The moment he starts walking toward me, the energy in the audience becomes electric, crackling and sizzling through the air.
His face is adorably red as he approaches, still unsure.
When he stops in front of me, the crowd quiets to a manageable roar.
The mic on my ear picks up every word spoken between us, even over the clamor of people catcalling and cheering. “I thought you said I’d never have to ask you twice,” I say.
His face softens into a smile. “And you never, ever have to beg,” he responds, leaning his forehead against mine.
“So, kiss me already,” I whisper.
He chuckles darkly and wastes no time, arms sliding around my neck and dragging my mouth to his. This isn’t a polite peck for the show’s sake. This is scorching and intense—lips and tongue, wild, red-hot passion and the freedom of letting everyone see it.
This is my declaration to the world.
Voices roar with cheers and whistles, sweeping away my worries and anxiety until this moment is all that remains.
Us.
Together.
We’re both panting when we finally separate, eyes still locked on each other. “I love you,” he says, confident and unashamed of what we have.
“I love you, too.” I give him another quick peck on the lips before shoving him back a step. “Now, go sit down, Sticks. We’ve got a show to play.”