31. She’s With Me
31
SHE’S WITH ME
FELIX
Darkerside By David Kushner
I pull Maggie back in for one last kiss. “You’re gonna be late,” she teases.
“I don’t see why we can’t walk to the venue together,” I protest, reluctant to let her go, my thumb brushing across her knuckles as if memorizing the groove of her hand.
She tilts her head, a wry smile curving her lips. “Have you seen the crowds lately?” She waves toward the distant roar of the venue, where the opening band’s music pounds faintly through the night air.
I groan, rolling my eyes. “Still getting used to all of this,” I admit. The attention, the noise, the way anonymity has become a luxury I can no longer afford—it’s everything I wanted but now that I have it, it’s more of an adjustment than I anticipated.
Her fingers tighten around mine. “We can’t exactly be seen holding hands,” she says softly, though her grip tells me she doesn’t want to let go either.
“You know I don’t care about that,” I say. But she gives me a look—those blue eyes flashing with a mix of affection and resolve. I know why it matters, why this all has to stay in the shadows for now. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.
Everything’s gotten so complicated in the last few weeks since the Ivy duet and I miss when Maggie and I could roam around a city unnoticed—when no one cared if we held hands or kissed on the steps of the Parthenon.
She smiles up at me, her nose wrinkling in that way that makes my heart stutter. The fairy lights strung on the bus catch the blue in her eyes, and for a moment, the world fades to just us.
“I like it when you get all clingy,” she teases, a big smile on her face.
“You call it clingy, I call it making sure you know that you’re mine,” I murmur, my lips brushing against her temple as I say it. My arms tighten around her, as if daring the universe to try and pull her away from me. It’s reckless, maybe even selfish, but I can’t help it—not when it comes to Maggie.
She pulls away, placing her hand on my chest, giving me a little push with a smile on her face. “Go on rockstar. I’ll be right behind you,” she promises.
And though I don’t want to, I let her hand slip from mine, the loss immediate and sharp.
I walk backward, unable to peel my gaze away as she retreats toward her bus. She glances over her shoulder, her lips curving into a smile. She motions for me to get moving, and I laugh, finally turning to jog toward the venue, the ghost of her touch lingering on my palm.
“You’re gonna be late,” Dusty’s voice barrels through the dark as I turn the corner, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Jesus!” I exclaim, clutching at my chest. “Do you have a tracking device on me or something?”
His gruff laugh rumbles as he adjusts his cap. “I’ve been doing this for twenty years, kid, and there are four reasons rockstars are late,” he says, and I motion for him to continue. “They’re either getting laid, getting high, getting arrested, or,”—he pauses for effect, his brows lifting as he gives me a pointed look—“trying to get laid.”
I bark out a laugh. “Well, I guess you’re not entirely wrong.” My thoughts flicker to Maggie, to the way her lips felt against mine just moments ago. He’s more right than he knows because with Maggie I’m always trying to find a way to get in her pants. Although lately it’s gotten harder to find time together.
Dusty grunts, motioning toward the security team with a wave of his hand. “He’s all yours, boys.” It’s as if he’s dropping me off at daycare or something.
Bash shakes out his hair, pieces of glitter flying through the air. “Is there still glitter in my fucking hair?” he yells.
Dex laughs.
“Not funny, asshole. I’ve washed it five times already.”
“Is this really necessary?” I grumble as security walks on either side of us while we make our way to the venue. They’re not our usual guys but additions to the crew while we’re in Chicago since the crowds have grown so much. They don’t seem to be friendly as they stare straight ahead.
We make our way toward the venue, the air electric with the sound of fans screaming my name. Barricades line the pathway, straining against the crush of bodies. Arms reach out, fingers desperate to grab onto me. I push through the throng, shaking hands, signing a few autographs, the chaos both exhilarating and overwhelming.
It’s probably a good idea that Maggie didn’t come with me, but I have an uneasy feeling as I look toward the buses, knowing she’s somewhere back there. I’d feel better if I knew where she was and that she got to the venue okay but I try to shake it off.
As we near the backstage area, I lean toward Dex, my voice raised over the din. “This is all for us?” I ask, still in awe of the sheer magnitude of it all.
“Technically, it’s for you,” Dex quips, a knowing grin splitting his face. “That Ivy duet really catapulted things, man. By the way, I owe you.”
“For what?” I ask, genuinely confused.
He winks conspiratorially. “Can neither confirm nor deny that we’re dating.”
“Get the fuck out,” Bash barks.
Dex shrugs, unbothered by the teasing. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”
“Because it’s bullshit,” Bash counters, grinning.
“Or because she’s embarrassed,” Gunner chimes in.
“Oh, I’m voting for that one,” Bash says.
Dex shoves both of them, his grin faltering but his pride intact. “You can both fuck off.”
As we step onto the stage, the crowd’s roar swallows me whole. The lights flash, the music pounds, and adrenaline courses through my veins like a shot of pure exhilaration. This is where I belong—where I’ve always belonged—even if it’s a bit overwhelming.
The erratic pounding of my heart fuels me rather than inhibits me as I use the adrenaline to lead the crowd in a synchronized clap that mimics the drum beat while I make my way across the stage.
But as my gaze sweeps the crowd, searching for Maggie’s familiar face, my chest tightens when I don’t find her in her usual spot. The absence is a physical ache, a gnawing unease I can’t shake.
The lights flash and flicker as I grab the mic at the perfect point to dive into the opening vocals. I push away from the mic for a brief guitar solo and stand in front of Bash, who looks to be having the time of his life as we make it look like we’re facing off. It’s the crowd and the lights and the vibration of the music pulsing through me that is better than anything I’ve ever felt.
This is what I wanted to do with my life. If I could be on stage every night I would, especially when the crowd starts to sing the chorus right along with me. The evening air is hot and muggy. I can feel the sweat start to drip from my forehead, causing my hair to stick to the back of my neck.
“Thank you, Chicago! We’re so glad to be here!” I yell into the mic, which elicits more screams from the crowd. “How would you like to ‘Unchain Me?’” I wink and the crowd screams as I move into the song, a fan favorite.
It’s not until halfway through the set that I spot Maggie in the VIP area. Relief floods me, but it’s short-lived. My voice falters when I see her arguing with a security guard. He grabs for her camera, and she pulls it away, defiance blazing in her eyes. When he grips her arm, my blood ignites like wildfire.
“Hey!” I yell into the mic without thinking, my voice sharp, cutting through the music. “She belongs here. Let her go!”
What the fuck is going on?
The band stumbles but keeps playing as I watch another guard wrestle the camera from her hands. Maggie’s face is a storm of emotions. It’s too much. I can’t just stand here.
“Hey!” I try to get their attention again but they’re not listening. “Security” I yell louder, hoping they’ll realize I’m addressing them and not yelling for the fuck of it. I lean over the stage and lock eyes with Maggie as one of the guards belts his arms around her from behind and starts pulling her through the crowd.
“She belongs here!” I start yelling, following them desperately along the stage. “Let her go!”
Fuck!
I hesitate for a second but then I leap off the stage, shoving through the crowd like a man possessed. The fans surge around me, their hands reaching, but all I see is Maggie.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I roar at the security guard who finally acknowledges me as I reach them. “She’s with the band!”
“She doesn’t have a badge,” the guard retorts, unapologetic.
“I don’t care!” My voice is cold, furious. “She’s with me.”
I pull her into my arms, her small frame trembling against mine. Whether it’s from anger or fright, I don’t know, but either way I don’t like it. I don’t like this one fucking bit. “Are you okay?” I ask, my voice softening as I cup her face, searching her eyes for answers.
She nods, her lips parting to speak, but no words come. Instead, her hands clutch at my shirt, her nails digging into my skin as if anchoring herself.
The chaos around us escalates, fans pressing closer, guards struggling to maintain control. I hoist Maggie up, passing her to Bash, who helps her onto the stage. Pulling her into my side, I walk her off the stage ignoring the shouts, the flashing cameras, the mayhem, until we’re safe backstage.
“Felix,” Maggie yells and I finally realize she’s been trying to get my attention this whole time. “Why did you?—”
But I can’t let her finish. My lips crash against hers in a kiss that’s all desperation and relief. She melts into me, her fingers threading through my hair, pulling me closer.
“You have no idea what that was like for me,” I rasp against her lips, my voice raw. “Seeing you like that…”
Her lips find mine again, silencing my words, her urgency matching my own. The adrenaline, the fear, the relief—it all combusts between us, electric and unstoppable.
“Jesus, Maggie,” I rasp, my voice barely audible from screaming. My hands roam over her, my body trembling with the need to feel her, to lose myself in her.
She responds by kissing me, slipping her tongue inside and sucking on my bottom lip before pulling away. My cock jumps inside my jeans, pressing painfully against the zipper.
She gasps as I lift her onto the nearest speaker, her dress hitching higher as I press against her. “Felix,” she breathes, her voice a plea, a prayer.
I should go back out on stage, but I can’t. Not when she’s looking at me this way, so needy, so desperate.
“You sure you’re okay?” I ask, pulling away for only a second.
“Yeah.” She nods, eyes half lidded behind impossibly long black lashes. My hand fumbles under her sundress to push her panties aside as she wrestles with my belt. I slip a finger inside.
“Mm,” my voice vibrates against her jaw. “You’re already wet for me, Maggie.”
Her chest heaves as she closes her eyes against my fingers inside her.
The front of my jeans yawns open as she shoves them down just enough to take hold of the base of my cock.
“Felix,” she whines, and the sound of her urgency, feeling how she responds to me, has me tied up in knots.
I grab hold of her ass, pulling her closer to me. She gasps when I slam my cock inside her. “Fuck, Maggie.”
“Yes,” she whispers as I fuck into her in sharp, measured and desperate thrusts to the soundtrack of an angry, roaring crowd.