Chapter 17
We spent the next couple of hours exploring the market before heading to the hotel to rest and eat dinner. I was nestled into an armchair in my suite reading The Count of Monte Cristo—a recommendation from Knox; I had loaned him my copy of Jane Eyre in exchange—when Vanessa knocked on the door.
“It’s time to head to the amphitheater,” she called through the door.
“Be out in just a moment!”
Soon, Oliver and I were following Skylar and Vanessa to the concert venue, both of us bundled up in coats and scarves. On instinct, I laced my arm through his as I took in the beauty of the festival now that the sun had set.
A gust of wind hit my face, and I couldn’t help but move closer to Oliver and embrace the warmth that came off him. The corner of his mouth turned up in a small smile. Sometimes I got the impression that he didn’t mind the moments when we blurred the lines between friends and fake fiancés.
It always felt easy to be this way with Oliver though; that had never been the problem.
I had to remind myself that this was not and could not be real.
The butterflies trying to take flight in my stomach could go right back into their tiny little homes.
We had been down this road before, and I had already determined why we couldn’t venture that way again.
Once we arrived at the venue, security waved us through and we made our way backstage, where we were greeted by the band.
A man with a long black mullet walked up to us and bowed. “Your Majesty. I’m Richie Pot, the lead singer. We’re so honored to have you join us tonight.”
Oliver extended his hand to shake Richie’s. “It’s nice to meet you, Richie. This is my fiancée, Adelaide. It’s our pleasure to be here.”
I shook Richie’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” I smiled warmly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch the name of your band.”
“We’re Risky Business.”
“Wait!” Oliver exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. “I’ve seen you play before! I went to a showcase at The Phoenix about eight years ago. You were great!”
Richie’s eyes went wide. “Really? That was when we were just starting out. We really have a passion for rock music and it’s so fun to see people fall in love with a song all over again.”
A cheeky grin spread across my face. “Oliver is actually quite the hair band fan,” I said, nudging him gently with my shoulder.
“Is that right?” Richie asked eagerly. Oliver was blushing.
“It is. He even plays the electric guitar. He’s quite good!”
A man with a Flock of Seagulls haircut approached us with a bow. “Did I just hear that King Oliver knows how to play the electric guitar? I was just warming up; would you like to play with me for a few minutes?”
Oliver shook his head. “Oh, I—”
“He would love to,” I interrupted. “Go on, go play. I’ll be right here.”
Oliver glanced at me, his look clearly saying I’ll get you back for this. I smiled at him innocently as I waved him away. He had pushed me outside of my comfort zone more than once recently; I had no problem doing the same to him.
Oliver disappeared with the guitarist, Faxon following a few steps behind. While we waited, I introduced Richie to Skylar and Vanessa and chatted with him about how he had met his bandmates.
A few minutes later, Oliver and the guitarist (Danny McDuff, Richie had told me) reappeared.
“Fun?” I asked, looping my arm back through Oliver’s. Beside us, Danny was whispering something into Richie’s ear.
“Yeah, it was. But Laidie, I know you’re up to something. I’m not sure what just yet, but I am onto you.”
I batted my eyelashes. “Who, me?”
Before Oliver could respond, Richie and Danny turned back to us. “Your Majesty, Danny says you are quite talented! We would be honored if you would join us for one of our songs tonight.”
Oliver’s cheeks reddened to a shade indistinguishable from a summer-ripe tomato. “I couldn’t,” he answered, eyes wide.
“Oliver,” I gently chastised, squeezing his arm. “It would be rude not to take them up on their offer.”
“I insist, sir. It would be the perfect way to kick off the first night of the festival,” Danny said, pushing his red and black guitar toward Oliver. “Pick any song you like and we’ll add it to the set.”
Oliver took the guitar and stared down at it. “Oh, I really don’t know…”
“Just one song,” I encouraged.
“Please, it really would be our honor,” Richie added.
Oliver sighed. “Just one song?”
“Just one!” the men agreed in unison.
Oliver looked at me. I gave him my biggest, most dazzling smile and held both thumbs up enthusiastically. I knew he saw right through it.
“All right. I’m in.” He leaned down and whispered into my ear, “You are absolutely incorrigible.” He pressed a kiss to my temple (Oh, shush, I told the butterflies in my stomach yet again) and walked away, following Richie and Danny to meet the rest of the band.
While the security team adjusted for this change of plans, I made my way to the front of the theater and the front-row seats that had been sectioned off for Oliver, me, and our team. I took my seat, happy to have some reprieve from the heeled boots that Dash had insisted I wear.
The thought of an outdoor amphitheater in February had made me nervous, but my concerns over the cold were quickly dashed.
The venue was fitted with a retractable roof and heaters throughout.
While I kept my coat on, I found I was able to abandon my scarf and gloves.
The band would certainly be plenty warm with the addition of the stage lights.
As the seats behind us filled, I noticed a couple walking hand in hand.
One of the men held onto two steins of beer while his partner took their seat.
I watched them both get situated as the one who had been carrying the beers pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek and handed off their beer.
They leaned into each other, whispering and laughing.
What would it have been like to go on a date like this—just a regular couple—with Oliver when we were younger? What would it be like now to simply let myself fall for him again, no worries about the future?
But we weren’t a regular couple. And my feelings were, quite frankly, irrelevant. We simply had to get through the next few months so he could move on and find his future wife, the woman who could give him a family.
I was pulled from my thoughts by the house lights dimming and a voice welcoming Risky Business to the stage. The sound of the drummer tapping the high hat filled the venue and the crowd surged to their feet. A giddy smile spread across my face as I thought about the surprise in store for everyone.
Richie Pot ran to the front of the stage, microphone in hand, and yelled, “I wanna rock!”
The bassist and keyboardist both echoed, “Rock!” several times as they launched into the opening bars of “I Wanna Rock” by Twisted Sister.
I spotted Danny on the stage and was certain I heard a second electric guitar but didn’t see Oliver.
I finally spied him in the wings, hidden just out of view of most of the crowd.
I was just about to march back there and push him out onto the stage myself when he caught my eye and gave me the same panty-melting half-smile I had loved so much when we were younger. It was that smile that had made me start to fall for him in the first place eight years ago.
You will not fall for that smile again, I reminded myself.
Falling for Oliver was easy, and I had done it more than once now, only to be let down each time. I refused to let the way his fingers flew over the guitar strings remind me of what those same fingers could do in bed. That was not going to happen again.
There was a break in the lyrics and Richie spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest playing with us tonight!” I heard Oliver play a riff and chuckled. Someone is feeling himself right now. “Will you please welcome to the stage…King Oliver!”
The crowd erupted into deafening cheers as Oliver walked out to the center of the stage and took up a place beside Richie, never missing a beat of his guitar solo. I was pretty sure I saw an older woman faint.
The cheers and screams seemed to energize Oliver, who laid into the solo, bending down and nodding along with the bass line. He made his way to the edge of the stage, right in front of me, and shot me a wink.
It was in that moment that I knew that I was truly, hopelessly fucked.
My bottom lip curled in, and I had to bite it to keep from smiling like a complete fool or worse, letting my panties melt right off. This was quite possibly the hottest Oliver had ever been.
Richie launched back into the song’s lyrics, starting the chorus with the callback again. “I wanna rock!”
“Rock!” everyone, including me, screamed back, as the word “rock” lit up screens on either side of the stage.
Fists pumped the air across the theater as the call-and-response continued.
Danny and the drummer were banging their heads, and Oliver and the bassist had their backs to each other as they played.
The air was laced with adrenaline, and Oliver wore a smile that could not be contained, his eyes wide and glowing.
I wasn’t sure I had ever seen him so elated and in his element.
As the final chords of the song played, the roar of the crowd somehow became even louder. You would have thought we were in a stadium with tens of thousands of people, not a small venue that held a few hundred at most.
A chant of “King Oliver!” began somewhere in the middle of the throng and was soon taken up by the rest of the audience. I grabbed my phone from my pocket and snapped a photo of Oliver smiling ear to ear as he took in the applause.