Chapter Twelve
Saoirse
“Why are you following me?” I snapped at Dusty as I made my way towards the ski lift.
“What are you talking about? I’m going to my sound check.” He gave me a cheerful look, still wearing his head camera, though Hale had returned his.
I’d declined filming, though racing them had been fun, especially since they were both pretty skilled. Though Dusty’s snow skates, which he still wore, were ridiculous.
Ah yes, he had said that. The runs I wanted to conquer were near the festival. It made sense that we’d be going the same way.
We came up on the lift. I went to get on, trying to be faster than Dusty. He hopped on next to me, kicking his snow skated feet in glee.
I glanced at his muscular, bare chest. “Are you part Arctic ground squirrel?
While I had a pretty high tolerance for the cold, it was nothing compared to him.
Head tilting, he thought for a moment. “Polar bear, maybe?”
I checked my phone, careful not to drop it like Carlos had. Fiona and Carlos were probably still in bed. Dusty was checking his social media, and chattering.
Finally, I looked over at him. “Are you talking to me?”
“I was asking you for input about my set list.” He showed me the list on his phone.
“Why does my input matter?” Surprise bloomed inside me.
“You’ve seen me perform before. You have an idea as to what songs I like to do.”
A sigh escaped my lips. Alphas. So fucking clingy. You go to a few concerts so that you could bone him after his show, because you were horny after a job, and now he seemed to think that you actually care about his music and him.
“You usually start with Eat More Pussy and Cocksucker,” I replied, needing him to stop making puppy eyes at me.
I did like this almost a beard goatee he’d had lately.
Wait. Why did I care about his facial hair? No. I didn’t. Not one bit. Not the slutty little glasses either.
“That’s what I’ve been doing for my tour. I was thinking maybe Small Dick Energy would be a good way to bring in the positive vibes and get the mood high.” He nodded and tapped on his phone.
“That could work. Are you going to do any of your Christmas songs? It is Christmas Eve,” I added.
“Yes. That’s it. I’ll go right into a Fuckboy Santa and Jingle Balls medley. I’ll probably mix a couple of popular Christmas songs with some of my other songs. I can’t believe I’m here. This is huge for me,” he admitted.
“It is.” Over the years his venues had grown in size drastically.
“Like there was that one fair I did with Beefy Pot Roast, where the amphitheater was like ten thousand people, but the top half was really empty. We ended up having everyone come down to the front and join us. It pissed off security. But the vibes were immaculate and we threw burritos at the crowd.” He glowed as he said that.
“See, no matter what, you’ll do fine. I believe in you.” Why did I say that? He’d think I actually cared if I kept saying things like that.
Dusty beamed. “Really? That means everything.”
Ugh.
“Come with me.” He tugged on my wrist as we got off the lift.
I pulled away, more out of habit than anything.
“Sorry.” Dusty looked like I kicked his puppy. “You usually like it when I touch you when we’re not around people.”
“No, I’m sorry. Reflex.” Why did I say that? If I didn’t get my act together and stop being nice, he was going to think that I was into him.
I was only into his dick.
Sure, in another life I could fall for him. There was a lot to like. But in this life, it wasn’t going to happen. After this trip, I needed to cut him off entirely and add musicians to the list of things I didn’t put into my vagina.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to go with you,” I replied. If anything, it would make my brother very jealous. That was the only reason why I recognized BroKen the second time he ruined one of my jobs.
Okay, I liked his songs for running, but I didn’t really pay attention to who sang them.
The festival had multiple stages and various areas to explore.
He led me to the artist's entrance, jumping up and down on those asinine snow skates like an over-caffeinated kangaroo.
“Did I make you mad?” he said softly, detaching the snow skates from his boots. Bailey wasn’t behind us anymore. I wasn’t sure where she’d gone off to.
“Not at all.” I left my skis and poles in the provided racks inside.
Relief flowed through his scent. “Oh good. I was thinking that maybe I did something wrong, or that last meeting wasn’t good enough.”
I shook my head. “It has nothing to do with you. Well, it annoys me when you try to keep me. But every way you’ve made it up to me has been amazing.”
Too amazing. I wasn’t worth the things he put together. When I first said he needed to make it up to me, after wrecking my job, I didn’t think it would go beyond sex against the wall.
But no, he took me seriously–and showed up at my hotel and took me on a sunrise hot air balloon ride. Another time he’d arranged for a midnight picnic. Once we’d had a couples massage.
I should have drawn the line there, but it was a really good massage.
It was him wanting to be something more that got fucking annoying.
“They were good dates?” he perked.
Dates? It must’ve shown on my face because his expression drooped.
“You know what I do for a living. How could we ever be together? You literally broadcast half your life on social media, not to mention chaos is your brand. That and my business don’t go well together.” I tried to keep harshness out of my voice.
“You make me happy.” Nothing but sincerity came through his scent, which smelled of bad decisions and regret.
Okay, balsam and oranges. Same difference. He was that day-after-Christmas hangover you had because you ended up doing whiskey shots with your cousins to avoid all the family drama.
“Why?” I gave him a look.
Alphas wanted sweet omegas, like Fiona. Who wanted a delta? Especially an alpha musician who made semi-decent money and had abs that you could make pancakes on.
“I don’t care what you do for a living. Your value to me lies in your personality, mind, and heart, not your trigger finger.
We can have a life together when neither of us are working, or you can work with me.
Well, I guess people might notice if you were doing jobs in every city, but other cities would be near enough.
Oh, oh, you could work security for me. You could be up there on top of a building with your sniper rifle, making sure no one shoots me while I’m on stage,” he blurted.
Shite. I wasn’t expecting that.
“There you are. Let’s go. You’re the first one up.” Kace came over to us, Tyrell following.
Saved. Well, for now.
Dusty nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
This year’s festival theme was Candy Cane Wonderland. The giant and elaborate main stage construction was spectacular, correctly capturing what it would look like if candy canes and snowflakes had babies, and vomited glitter. When the lights went out it would be stunning.
Right now, the area was pretty empty. The festival wouldn’t start until well after dark, giving people time to finish up skiing, have some dinner, and perhaps take a nap.
I think Dusty was going on around one or two in the morning.
There would be an after party on one of the other stages.
People partied until dawn, took a little nap, hit the slopes, and did it all again. Happy Christmas everyone.
I checked my phone again and saw that Fiona had sent me a couple of heart emojis.
Taking a picture of Dusty, I sent it to my brother.
Me
BroKen’s sound check.
My cousin had sent me the background check back. Other than Hale being reckless they seemed pretty good. No major arrests, no debts. Dusty did a lot of charity work.
But that seemed so him.
My brother texted me an emoji of the bird.
Tadgh
Where are you?
Me
Winter-Fest. I told you. Turns out Fiona’s hockey boy is besties with BroKen.
Tadgh
So jealous. We’ll miss you for Christmas.
He’d miss me for Christmas. My grandfathers, especially Grandpa, would miss me for Christmas. My cousins had a job in the Balkans. No one else would even notice. Especially my mother and sister.
Tadgh
It made in the news cycle.
Me
I know. I’ll keep an eye on things.
As long as it didn’t stay there. Hopefully no one would want to dig too much. With a man like that they usually didn’t.
I looked up and saw the sheer joy and happiness on Dusty’s face as he mixed a song about reindeer with his song Eat More Pussy.
Maybe this was the Christmas I needed this year.
The lights had synced with the music. It wasn’t just stage lights. No, the very set lit up, changing color, blinking, and even moving with the music. Even in the daytime it was extraordinary.
“How’s that?” someone called.
“Great. Hey, just a minute.” Dusty looked around, eyes finally focusing on me. “Cici, can you come over here?”
“Um, sure?” I rolled my eyes at the nickname. It wasn’t that I hated it.
It was that I liked it.
I didn’t come from a family that used nicknames or endearments. Well, except for my gran. But no one was going to contradict a grandma with a sniper rifle, who also cooked most of the food.
Unless you wanted to be served nothing for supper but a scathing look. But she was gone now.
Dusty, who had one of those face mics like a pop star, handed me a microphone. “Can you sing the song you were singing last night? Um, this is keep going.” He moved his hand in a circle. “This is hold on.” He held up a finger. “This is stop.” He held up his hand.
“I…” My brain screamed at me to say no. I didn’t sing in public. But that sad puppy look broke me.
It wouldn’t hurt me to sing. No one was here.
“Fine.” I sighed.
His face lit up.
I started singing in Irish. People stopped and looked and my heart pounded. What was I doing?
Dusty made the eyes on me sign, then gestured for me to keep going. A thumping beat started, the timing perfectly matching. Eyes on him, I kept singing as tension built in the music.
The music went quiet. I stopped, puzzled.
Keep going, he gestured, lowering his hand. Taking a breath, I started singing again. After a moment, the music restarted. Dancing around, he made adjustments on his equipment. This wasn’t the same beat, rather it twirled around my song.
The tension built again as we returned to the main theme. His hand rose and my voice grew louder.
He held up a finger as the music prepared for the drop and I went quiet. I felt that drop in my soul. Dusty nodded and I started singing again as the music restarted, full force.
Dusty made the keep going gesture, eyes locked on mine as he held up his microphone and started rapping. In Spanish. While dancing so hard his hat fell off.
Now, BroKen put on a good show. But right now, in this moment, he was mesmerizing. It felt like he was rapping just for me.
He could be, which was why I didn’t listen to his words.
We kept going, then as I got to the end of my verse, his hand went to stop. I stopped, as did he, and the music dropped off into silence.
“That was better than a blow job from a dinosaur,” Bailey said softly to Kace and Tyrell.
Oh, she was back. But, um, what?
“That’s my Cici!” Dusty breathed. “You are fucking amazing. I knew from the moment you were humming it on the ski lift that it would be perfect.”
“Wow,” Kace said. “That was spectacular. Are we closing with it? Should we release the inflatable dicks? The organizers said we could, but only for one song, and towards the end.”
“Wait, this was fun, but I… I can’t sing this on stage.” Panic gripped my chest.
“Girl, you were so good. Literally, you brought tears to my eyes,” Tyrell gushed.
Dusty came over to me, but didn’t touch me. “Hey, you don’t have to. This was simply for fun. You were just indulging my creative whims. I know it works, so I can sleep now.”
Oh. He wasn’t going to pressure me?
“Thank you,” I replied. Wow.
Dusty picked up his hat and put it back on. “Maybe we can record it at some point, so I can release it on an album? We can give you a fun stage name. Like Madam Sparklepants.” He splayed his hands like my name was in lights.
“That is ridiculous,” I laughed. Madam Sparklepants? My brother would never let me live that down.
“That’s the point.” He grinned. “Who would make the connection?”
“True.”
He looked at the stage manager. “We’re good.” His attention returned to Kace. “I’m going to do Big Dick Contest second to last, so we’ll release the dicks then. Do we have burritos?"
“No. We have mini baguettes though,” Kace replied.
“That works. We have the cereal, right?” he added.
Kace nodded. “Big and little boxes. We brought them with us. Also, we did manage to find a twelve-foot stuffed snowman, and it will be here by the time you go on.”
Always with the giant stuffed animals. But the fans loved it.
Dusty wrapped up. I could leave and hit the slopes, but for some reason I didn’t. Finally, the five of us left the stage.
“Thanks for not pressuring me,” I said softly to Dusty.
“I don’t want to ever pressure you.” His eyes met mine. “Convince you, charm you, but not pressure you.”
Shite. Why did he have to be this nice? Alphaholes I could handle.
This? Not so much.
“If you don’t have anything else to do, would you like to try a couple of these trails with me?” Why did I say that? But it wouldn’t be that bad. We couldn’t actually talk while skiing.
Dusty grinned. “I’d love to.”