Chapter 35 #2
My breath hitched in my throat, but still I forced my feet to move, stepping out from the curtains into the blinding spotlight.
The crowd erupted into a deafening roar that shook me to the core.
Jude closed the distance between us in three strides, his hand wrapping around my waist, pulling me to his side.
I took the wireless microphone from his grip, swallowed down the last of my shyness, and waved to the sea of faces.
‘Hi, Sydney,’ I said, my voice bouncing off the white sails of the architecture behind us. ‘Thank you for taking care of my husband and my amazing friends, the Six Sinners.’
The audience went feral, with cheers that ratcheted when Jude leaned down, pressing a hard, possessive kiss on my lips.
The crowd went wild as he pulled away, eyes locked on me, claiming me with such devotion that I had to blink away tears.
‘I love you so much,’ he growled into my ear before he let me go.
I made a heart sign back at him.
Then, with a grin and a wave at his fans, I escaped back into the security of the wings, my cheeks burning.
In no time, our phones blew up with thousands of notifications.
The band’s fan base, the Sinners Army, went wild for our love story, flooding every platform with high-res footage and photos of our onstage kiss.
The next morning, I scrolled through the feeds while sitting at the breakfast bar, letting out a laugh as I read the commentary aloud to Jude.
@SinnersHQ: Jude is fully locked in; we need the full tea on how this legit romance novel unfolded! ??
@PopCultureVibes: We’re losing our minds over Jude’s mysterious wife after that stadium lip lock. Jude is so gone for her.
‘They’re calling me your mysterious wife,’ I murmured, sliding a piece of whole-wheat toast across the counter.
‘I’d like to keep it that way. However, the same thread with fifty thousand likes then descends into a debate over your sculpted jawline.
In two seconds flat, I’m now old news, and you’re back to being the Internet’s certified snack, my love. ’
‘Fuck, they need to get a real hobby,’ Jude muttered, his face turning a deep shade of crimson as he buried his nose in his black coffee mug. ‘I’m a thirty-something ex-con who plays the guitar, that’s all. They’re losing their minds over nothing.’
‘I beg to differ. I kinda slobber on that jaw myself.’
He fake-scowled at me as I chuckled.
While the stage crew and the band members handled the bump-in at the ICC, a state-of-the-art waterside arena for the official tour start, Nari took charge of my free time.
She ambushed me at the door of my suite after a group breakfast.
‘Let’s get going, Sofia,’ Nari said. ‘Grab your stuff.’
‘Where are you taking me?’ I asked.
‘I’m dragging you out of the hotel bubble to experience the soul of the harbor city,’ she replied with a grin.
I returned it, then threw on a jacket, walking shoes, and my bag.
She guided me through the historic sandstone alleys of The Rocks, pointing out the ancient masonry details.
Next, she led the way through the Royal Botanic Garden, where giant grey-headed flying foxes hung like leather fruit from the canopy.
We took the water taxi across the bay, our hair whipping into a tangled mess as the vessel hit the open swell near the heads.
She pointed out several key locations, from the bustling stalls of the Sydney Fish Market to the surf culture of Bondi Beach and the seaside cliffs of Watson’s Bay.
‘You’re not allowed to go back to Tennessee thinking Australia is just kangaroos and ripped surfers, Sofia.’
Nari made the announcement as she hand-delivered a flat white coffee into my palm.
We sat on a bench with a stunning view of the heads.
The vast expanse of the Sydney open ocean rolled out before us with the distant silhouette of the Harbor Bridge framed against the horizon.
‘We’ve a great heritage, and history, and we’ve the best caffeine on the planet. Drink up.’
True to word, the coffee was heavenly.
I had to admit it, even for an Italian like me who grew up on it.
We spent the rest of the day wandering the harbourside.
We ate oysters and drank white wine at the Opera House bar, after which we joined Jude and the band for another show.
My final day in Australia arrived with a bittersweet ache.
I woke up at dawn, the first amber rays of the southern sun striking the steel beams of the Harbor Bridge outside our glass-walled suite.
Kissing Jude’s shoulders, as he lay face down in bed, I untangled myself from him, hit the shower, and dressed.
Back in the bedroom, I found him awake, resting high on the pillows, one arm flung back, the other beckoning to me.
‘Morning babe,’ he growled as I tracked to him.
We kissed long and slow before I tore myself away. ‘Got to pack.’
Jude groaned in disappointment.
His green eyes were intense on me as I pulled my clothes from the hangers and folded them into my suitcase.
My heart twisted, unwilling to think about the fact that I had to board a 15-hour flight back to the States, while he remained on the road for another 6 weeks.
He was ordering breakfast when I crawled across the duvet, slid my arms around his waist, and buried my face in the crook of his neck.
‘I hate this part,’ I whispered, stroking his dark hair. ‘I can’t stand saying goodbye, tesoro.’
‘Me too, babe,’ he rasped, his muscled embrace wrapping me. ‘However, this is the last extended tour stretch for a while. I swear it to you.’
He shifted, pinning me beneath him as his thumbs traced my jawline, tilting my face upward.
He gave me a slow, deep kiss, his firm lips melding to mine.
I whimpered with need.
Damn, there was something about his love that made me weak and knocked me off my feet.
We kissed until a knock at the door pulled us apart.
‘It’s our breakfast,’ Jude murmured, stroking my cheek.
‘Forget it, we don’t need food,’ I groused.
That’s when he shook his head. ‘No, babe, got to eat before your flight.’
‘You’re speaking way too much sense right now,’ I moaned as he slid out of bed.
I tracked his fine ass as he found a robe and strode to the door to let the server in with our food.
We ate, then Jude showered, and later he drove a rental SUV through the morning traffic toward Sydney Kingsford Smith Airport, his hand holding mine the entire way.
When he pulled into the international departures lane, I sighed. ‘I want to tear up my ticket and stay.’
‘Then stick around,’ he rasped, giving me a side glance and a wink.
I couldn’t, and we both knew that.
Work, a mini renovation, and settling into our new home awaited me on the other end.
We stepped out onto the curb amid the rushing travelers, beeping taxi horns, and the roar of transit buses.
I turned into his arms, clinging to his jacket.
‘Be safe, amore mio,’ I murmured, my face buried in his chest. ‘Sleep as much as you can, don’t skip your meals, and call me.’
‘Every single day, babe,’ he promised, his hoarse voice reverberating in my ear.
He cupped the back of my head, pulling me into one more hard, lingering kiss that left my head spinning and my lips tingling.
I finally tore myself away, grabbed the handle of my roller case, and walked fast toward the sliding glass doors of the terminal without looking back.
If I did, I might’ve run back to him, my heart never wanting us to be apart.