Chapter 19
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
TESSA
“No.” Zoe shakes her head vehemently. “You’re not wearing that. We’re going to a rock concert not a corporate event.”
I look down at my outfit. A pair of black pants and a white top. “What’s wrong with this?” I ask her. She huffs, grabbing my hand and dragging me back into my bedroom, being careful to avoid the holes in the floor. I think we could avoid them with our eyes closed. I imagine that even when it’s all repaired we’ll be jumping over where they used to be.
“Sit,” she says, pointing at my bed. “You need to start dressing your age.”
“I do dress my age,” I protest. I think I have good style. “I just don’t go to concerts very often.”
She rifles through my closet and pulls out a pair of black jeans. They’re old. Like super old.
“Vintage,” she murmurs, and I wince, feeling ancient.
“I thought you wanted me to dress young?” I say, frowning.
“I want you to dress cool,” she tells me. “And boot cuts are back in. Put them on.” She throws the jeans at me then turns back around, muttering to herself as she goes through my tops.
“This might work,” she says, tipping her head to the side. “No, too mom like.”
“I am a mom,” I remind her. And tonight I’m a mom to three over excited teenage girls. I’m not looking forward to it.
“You’re never gonna get a guy if you don’t make an effort,” she says. “Here we go. Perfect.” She pulls out a sequined top, though it looks more like a handkerchief. It’s stretchy and cropped and I think I wore it before I even met Jared.
“I didn’t know I had that anymore,” I say, shaking my head.
“Put it on,” Zoe says again. I roll my eyes at her but I do as I’m told. The jeans are cut low at the waist, so the buttons hit just above my hipbones. And the top doesn’t start until above my navel.
“Zo, I’m not wearing this out,” I tell her. “I haven’t bared my stomach in years.”
“But you have a tan,” she points out. “You look fabulous.”
“Let me change the top, okay?” I say, looking to compromise. “I’ll keep the jeans.” To be honest, I’m surprised they even fit me. The divorce diet did it’s thing, I guess. I lost over ten pounds after Jared left me. And with the renovating keeping me fit, it’s stayed off.
“Okay you can change the top,” Zoe concedes. “But I’ll choose it. And you have to let me do your hair.
An hour later we arrive at Madison Square Garden, where Zoe’s friends are waiting with their parents. Thank god I changed my top, they’d probably have dragged their daughters back home if they’d caught sight of how I looked earlier.
But right now, I have to admit, I feel good. Zoe did a great job with my hair, curling it using some kind of YouTube tutorial so it tumbles over my shoulders. And after a fierce debate I put on some natural looking makeup. I’m wearing a cute bustier style top that I bought eight years ago and only wore once, because Jared hated it. And a jacket with rolled up sleeves, because when I’m out here I feel better covered up.
Slutty chic, Angela called it when I sent her a photo. It made me laugh. Something I haven’t done in more than a week. I needed it.
I arrange to meet the girls’ parents at the parking lot at the end of the show, and then we head to the crew entrance, where we’re scheduled to meet Sondra, the band’s PA. I give our names to the security guard, who radios through, and within a minute Sondra’s at the door, ushering us inside.
There are people everywhere. Crew rushing around, security guards looking serious as they talk to each other through their radios, and then we hit a line of people, talking excitedly. Sondra ushers us past them. “That’s the line for the meet and greet,” she tells us.
“Do we need to join it?” I ask. “At the back?”
She shakes her head. “Backstage pass means you go straight into the room.
Zoe grabs my hand and squeezes it. I look at her and I can see how tight her facial muscles are. She’s vibrating with nervous excitement.
“You’re going to be fine,” I tell her.
“But this is the Linebackers.” She looks at her friends. They all look as panicked as she does.
“Just imagine they’re all naked,” I say, then immediately regret it. “No scrap that. And don’t tell your parents I said that.”
The room is bigger than I expected. And fuller, too. The five band members are standing in front of a banner, having their photographs taken with fans. Sondra waves at one of them who waves back, as she ushers us into another, smaller room at the side .
“Help yourself to food and drinks,” she says, then glances at Zoe and her friends. “The non-alcoholic stuff.”
“They won’t be touching anything alcoholic,” I tell her, following the three teenage girls into the room. As soon as the door closes behind us they squeal and run into each others’ arms, jumping up and down.
“Did you see Ryker looking at us?” her friend Maisie asks.
“Oh my God, he’s so sexy,” her other friend, Alice, agrees.
“If he talks to me I’m gonna die. I swear to God.” Maisie’s face looks pale.
A minute later more people start to pour in. They’re all different ages, and after talking to one kind looking lady a little older than me I discover they’re family members. A few more fans with backstage passes come in, then finally the band walks in and everybody cheers.
When I look over at Zoe she’s actually shaking. Sondra leads the band over to her and her friends.
“This is the Salinger’s group,” she tells them. “And they’re kids, so no swearing.”
“Pinky fucking promise,” the guy whose name I think is Ryker says. Zoe and her friends collapse into fits of giggles.
Sondra walks over to me. “You want your photo taken with them too?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I’m here for Zoe.”
“Not a fan?”
There’s only one answer to that when I’m here on their dime. “I like their music. I just don’t want to take their time up when so many others are here.”
“It’s okay,” Sondra says. “You don’t have to love them. It’d do them some good to know that not every woman would throw themselves on the floor when they’re around.” She motions over at them. “Hey Ryker?”
He lifts his head up. “Yeah?”
“Come over here.”
“No honestly,” I say quickly. “I don’t need a photograph. ”
He saunters over with all the confidence of a man at the top of his game. The slight swagger to his walk reminds me of Linc.
“I need to introduce you to somebody,” Sondra says, grinning. “A woman who doesn’t think you’re hot.”
My cheeks flush. “I didn’t say that,” I tell him quickly. My eyes meet Ryker’s. “I’m sorry, I just…”
“She just thinks you’re not all that.” Sondra blows him a kiss and Ryker grins back.
“Ignore her,” he says to me. “Ryker.” He holds out his hand.
“Tessa,” I say, taking it. His fingers curl around mine.
“I’ll dedicate a song to you,” he says. “See if you’ll change your mind and want me after the concert.”
“I’m going home straight after the concert,” I tell him, knowing it’s just some banter. I’m pretty sure he has his post-concert entertainment already lined up. “But thanks anyway.”
“Who are you with again?” he asks, looking around.
“She’s one of Salinger’s,” Sondra tells him.
“You’re Salinger’s girl?” he asks. And I start blushing again. It’s so hot in here. I’d take my jacket off, but I’m not showing this bustier off in here. It’s for the darkness of the concert only.
“I can’t remember the last time anybody called me a girl,” I tell him, and he laughs. “And I’m definitely not Salinger’s.”
“Where is he, anyway?” He looks over my shoulder.
“He couldn’t come,” I say, and my throat tightens.
“Shame. Next time you see him tell him I said hi.”
He moves on to another group, and before too long the band leaves the room altogether, and the rest of us are led to the special VIP area in front of the stage, where there are seats and a standing area.
“Can we go to the front?” Zoe asks, her face as flushed as mine .
I nod. “Yes, but don’t leave this space without me.” I’m pretty sure they can’t anyway. It’s carefully guarded. Plus there’s only one way in and one way out and if I stay where I am they’d have to walk right past me to get to the bathrooms.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Zoe promises. She and her friends walk to the front of the stage, the three of them talking and giggling. I can’t remember the last time I saw her this happy. And damn it, I’m going to send Linc a text. Right now.
Thank you for the tickets. We’re here right now. You’ve made three teenage girls very happy. – Tessa
There’s no reply, but I didn’t expect there to be. He’s probably out wining and dining a beautiful French woman. More people start to arrive and the temperature in the auditorium rises about three degrees. I’m starting to sweat. The lights are low enough for me to take off my jacket, so I lay it on the seat behind me, and glance over at Zoe and her friends again.
They haven’t moved an inch.
“Carmichael.”
The low voice sends a shiver down my spine. I recognize it instantly. My body does, too. It’s like every cell stands to attention. The way they’ve all been starved of it since I came back from Exuma.
I turn to look at him. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. He looks stupidly sexy.
“I didn’t think you were coming,” I say. A big cheer erupts as the opening band comes out and takes their places. More people file into the VIP area and Linc is forced to step closer. He’s immediately behind me, so close I can feel the warmth of his chest against my back.
“I wasn’t going to,” he says. “I changed my mind.”
“I sent you a text,” I tell him .
“I saw it.” His voice is soft against my ear. “Where’s Zoe?”
It makes my heart feel a little full when he says her name. He remembered it. “Over there.” I point at her and her friends. They’re so close to the stage they could climb on it.
Dear God, I hope they don’t.
“Why aren’t you with them?” he asks.
“I figured I’d let them have a little fun without me. Nobody likes their mom all up in their business.”
He gives a little chuckle. “I guess not.” There’s a pause. “I like your top.”
I look down at the bustier. It’s laced at the front, with little capped shoulders. It clings to me like a second skin. “Thanks. This was the second choice. You should have seen the top Zoe tried to make me wear. It was like a handkerchief.”
“I would definitely have liked to see that,” he confirms. I roll my eyes but I like it anyway.
Here’s the problem. I like him. Despite the drama and the way things ended. It’s stupid, but I’ve missed him.
“I’m glad you came,” I say.
“Are you?” He sounds surprised.
“Yes. They’re your friends. I would have hated for you to miss it because of me.” I let out a breath. “And I kind of missed you.”
The biggest smile pulls at his lips. “I kind of missed you too, Carmichael.”
Somebody pushes past us, and I stumble backward, into his hard chest. Linc puts his hands on my bare arms to steady me. His fingers are soft, but I still shiver at his touch.
“Careful,” he murmurs. But he doesn’t let go of me.
Before I can reply the opening band begins. The sound is almost deafening in the VIP area. I’m glad I insisted the girls wear ear protection for the concert, despite their protests.
The band is playing an upbeat number. The female singer is telling us she’s never gonna stop fighting. People are dancing around us, and Linc is still holding my arms .
I lean back against him, and for a moment he tenses.
Then he slides his arms around my waist.
“This okay?” he shouts in my ear.
“Yeah. Just move if Zoe looks.” But she won’t. She and her friends are dancing like crazy, screaming along with the words. Linc places his flat palm against my stomach, pulling me closer.
Every part of me clenches.
My nipples are hard against the bustier. My skin is heated. He dips his head and presses his nose against my throat, as though he’s breathing me in.
“Fuck I’ve really missed you.” He brushes his lips against my neck and I start to feel unsteady.
“Linc.”
“I know. I’m keeping it PG.”
He starts moving me to the rhythm of the music, his hands still on me. Each song fades into the next, and all I can think about is the way he makes me feel.
Like I’m alive again. Like I’m special. And maybe I like the drama a little. Isn’t it a part of life, along with the tears and laughter? I feel like I’m at a crossroads, having to choose between the dull, straight road ahead of me, and the twisty one that winds into a forest and gets lost in the hills. I can’t see where it ends up but it looks so much more enticing.
I want that. I want him.
He lets me go when the band comes to the end of their set and there’s a little break as the crew sets up for the Linebackers. Zoe runs over to me. “Mom, I need the bathroom.”
I look over at her friends and then back at Zoe. “We all go together,” I remind her. “I can’t leave your friends unsupervised and only take you. Go get them.”
“But we need to save our spot,” Zoe says. “For the Linebackers.”
“I’ll go save your spot.”
Zoe looks up, surprised at the sound of Linc’s deep voice .
“Zoe, you remember Linc,” I say. “He organized all this.”
“Oh my God, Mom said you weren’t coming.” She throws her arms around him. “Thank you, thank you.”
He holds his arms out to the side like he’s being patted down at an airport, and I smile at him, because Linc is never taken by surprise like this. Then he listens intently as she babbles on about how this is the best night of her life.
“Zo, go get your friends,” I remind her. Because the crew looks like they’re almost done setting up.
There’s no line for the VIP bathroom, so we’re back in the auditorium before they dim the lights for the main act. Linc has patiently saved the girls’ spot. He’s also sweet talked the people around them to make sure they take care of the girls.
He’s pretty much a celebrity as far as the front row is concerned.
And when he comes back to me, the lights dim. His hand touches the curve of my spine and electricity sizzles between us.
I’ve no idea what’s happening here, if I’m honest. But I want to enjoy the moment. Because I really am happy he turned up.
The band appears on stage and the screams are deafening. Even Linc frowns.
“I got told today that not every woman would take her panties off for me,” Ryker says into the mic, and all the women start screaming again. His eyes scan the VIP area and I shrink back into Linc, hoping he can’t see me.
Shit.
“So this one is for Tessa. Apparently the only woman in the world who prefers Victoria’s Secret to Ryker Wakefield.”
He strums his guitar and the drums kick in and fifty thousand fans start to throw themselves around the sound of their favorite band.
Even in the VIP area it’s getting a little violent. Linc slips his arms around me protectively .
“What was that about?” he asks. I can’t tell from his voice if he’s annoyed or amused.
“Just something I said in the VIP room.”
“Well I’m glad it’s not only me who gets the brush off.” His voice tickles my ear.
I turn to look at him. “You didn’t get the brush off in Exuma.”
He grins. “No I didn’t.”
Then he slides his lips down my neck to the dip of my shoulder, and I spend the rest of the concert in some kind of messed up haze.