3. Silver
Chapter three
Silver
"And then he comes hoooooooome...." I turn on my heel on the last word and glance backstage, almost losing the note when I lock eyes with the dark and broody hunk of my dreams.
I’d hoped that a few months of distance might shake me loose from the hold this man has on me—that my lust-filled delirium exaggerated his sexiness to such a degree that he couldn't possibly live up to it in person should I ever find myself face to face with him again. I’m sad (not really) to report that is not the case.
Dane stands behind the burgundy velvet curtain, talking to Alice backstage.
He's sporting business casual slacks with a dark polo that pulls snug on his biceps while hiding those washboard abs I've had the immense pleasure of running my fingers over.
Memories of his hands on my body in that elevator back in Fox Falls flood my brain, and I end the song with a breathless little sigh that sounds pornographic thanks to the microphone I'm still holding.
I try to cover it with a little whoop of joy as I look out onto the field in front of me, but that also sounds like the height of a climax. I would now like to melt into a puddle. Thankfully, the field is mostly empty during rehearsals.
"Are you going to do that during the performance?" Charley, the stage manager, asks into her microphone.
I shake my head, my cheeks heating.
She shrugs. "The audience likes a little hooting and hollering."
"Cool," I croak, then clear my throat. "Do you need me to sing it again?"
"Nope, we've got it, thank you." Charley waves me off the stage, speaking into her walkie-talkie to get the next group on deck—which means I have no choice but to go to Dane.
As I walk toward him, the rest of the world falls away, and I float on rainbows and sunbeams. I've thought about no one else since setting eyes on him months ago.
He walked into that hotel lobby in Fox Falls, and every nerve in my body lit up.
It was like my soul had met its match. I couldn't hide it or fight it, so I ran, thinking I'd nurse my poor heart back to health with multiple pints of ice cream, a good cry, a few songs about loving and leaving, and never have to see the man again.
Yet here he is. Smart, sexy, strong, and completely off-limits. My own mother sensed I was a goner, even though she's never met him. But I can't have him, so basically, this weekend is going to be torture.
"Hi," I say, sounding somewhat normal and far less orgasmic. Good job, me.
I stare at Dane for too long before allowing my gaze to slide toward Alice, who’s eyeing me with a knowing smile.
"Ma'am." Dane nods at me, then turns his attention back to Alice.
Nothing like a bucket of cold water straight to the kisser to bring me back down to reality.
Did he just “ma'am” me?
"I sent her itinerary to Rafi at SBS. We need someone to get her from place to place." Alice and Dane are talking about me as if I'm not standing right here.
I glare at Dane's profile. This man went down on me in an elevator, and he has the nerve to show up months later acting like it's all business? I mean, I know I technically hired him, so it is business, but still.
"Am I to stay out of sight?" Dane asks Alice.
"Yes," I respond icily.
“No,” Alice says at the same time.
She turns to me and sighs. "We would like—" Alice holds up a hand when I start to interject.
"Fine, I would like you to be visible. I want it to look like Silver needs crowd control and protection.
" She turns to me. "We already have a few pics from Fox Falls with Hulk, so it will seem like you have a full-time bodyguard when he also shows up in shots from this concert. "
Dane frowns. "Hulk?"
Alice doesn't respond, and he doesn't bother to ask me for clarification.
I cross my arms, furious about this entire debacle. Dane's eyes land on my cleavage before quickly darting back to Alice's face.
Well, well, well. Somebody deserves an Emmy for this little performance. He hasn't forgotten shit.
"Will do," he tells Alice before turning to me. "Are you ready to leave, Ms. Langford?"
I stare at him, wanting to tell him off and kiss him—in that order. "I need to get my bag."
I storm off toward the dressing rooms. While I'm certainly not a headliner at this concert, they did give me my own room, which feels like a luxury. I slam the door open and pull up my guitar case, using my knee to hoist it onto the makeup table.
"Do you need any help?"
As mad as I am at him, Dane's deep voice hits me directly between my thighs, sending a tingle of pleasure throughout my body.
My skin heats as I think about all the positions I've imagined us in over these past few months—one being a private dressing room just like this.
I've also fantasized about him having his way with me on the tour bus, in the backseat of a car, on stage in the middle of a concert, and pretty much every location I've been in for the last eight weeks.
"Do I look like I need help?" I snipe.
I throw items into my bag that I don't even need to take back to the hotel just so I have something to do with my angry energy—although I'm starting to suspect it’s less angry energy and more pure horny lust.
"No, ma'am."
"Excuse me?" I whirl around, my hands on my hips. My fury boils over when I find him standing in the doorway looking amused by my tantrum. Or as amused as Dane allows himself to get on the job, which means his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners. "Since when do you not call me by my first name?"
Dane shrugs. "I can call you whatever you’d like. You’re my client."
I glare at him. "Really? Do you kiss all your clients, or did Alice pay extra in Fox Falls?"
His lips tighten to a thin line as he steps into the dressing room and shuts the door behind him.
"You're the one who kissed and ran, Silver," Dane hisses.
I swallow hard, both loving and hating the way he says my name.
"What was I supposed to do, Dane?" I throw my hands up and stomp my foot in fury.
"You could have talked to me." Dane lowers his voice to a rasp. "I've never so much as hugged a client in my life. Hell, I've never had a kiss like that with anyone ever. Then I go back to the hotel and find a brush-off note?"
I shake my head, knowing I should have talked to him face-to-face, but I couldn't handle the heartbreak of that conversation.
"What? Like I'm going to ask you to give up your life and travel around the country with me? I've got a whole album's worth of songs to explain how that idea turns out."
Dane's eyes flash, and he clenches his jaw so tight that I hear his teeth creak. "Well, if you've written about it, then it must be true."
His eyes lock me in place, and my breath catches.
My gaze drops to his mouth as he leans in close, and my heart pounds in my chest. I’ve never wanted to be kissed so badly in my life.
He's close enough that his scent washes over me—peppermint and soap—clean, fresh, and something wholly Dane.
I close my eyes, my breath catching as I wait for the touch of his lips on mine.
"I'll wait for you outside, Ms. Langford."
My eyes fly open to find him by the door.
My hands drop to my sides as I realize he has no intention of kissing me ever again.
My heart races like it's trying to outrun the disappointment.
But he's right. I left without saying a proper goodbye, and for good reason—one that hasn't changed in the two months since we last saw each other.
And here I am, ready to jump right back into a complicated mess and make it harder for both of us when the weekend is over.
"Fine," I whisper, then clear my throat. "I'll be out in a minute." I'm pleased my voice doesn't wobble and betray my utter devastation, even as I tell myself it’s for the best.
The door closes behind him, and I let out a silent sob, my whole body shaking as I try to hold in the sound. I crumple to the floor and allow myself a muffled, ugly cry before wiping the tears and standing up.
I put both hands on the dressing room counter and stare into the mirror.
Tomorrow night, you are singing with Gia Golding on a stage full of fans. That is better than any dumb kiss.
Lies, my stubborn heart and horny vag hiss back at me.
I shake my head in an attempt to ignore them.
I am not going to let us get that close to another kiss for the entire weekend, but to hell if I'm going to let him pretend he doesn't find me attractive. I narrow my eyes at my reflection, already planning ways to throw him off his game.
As fun as that will be, I know deep down that all I want is him.
One weekend. Then I can go home to my mama and cry into a pint of cookie dough ice cream.
I can do this.