Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Wynter
My heart nearly stopped beating when Ross started to sing, but as he settled into the set, I was able to enjoy myself.
Then they played “Shooting for the Stars”.
My excitement is almost more than I can stand. The crowd is into it, the band is into it, and five seconds in it’s like no time has passed at all.
Ross’s voice is strong and steady, and as the crowd sings every word it nearly brings tears to my eyes.
It’s kind of an odd feeling, but I’m so proud of him.
On some level, I know how hard this has to be.
But by the end of the encore, with that random bra still around his neck, I can already see the change in him.
A subtle aura of confidence that wasn’t there before.
And it’s hot as hell.
It’s even hotter when he comes off the stage, walks right up to me and presses his lips to mine. “Thank you,” he says in a hoarse whisper.
I don’t know what I did exactly, but I smile and whisper back “You’re welcome.”
“Fuck yeah! That was awesome!” Pete comes over and gives him a high five.
“Way to save the day,” Tommy adds with a grin.
The crew ushers us back toward the dressing room and Ross slides his hand around mine. If thirty-three-year-old modern-day nurses were capable of swooning, I probably would have. Instead, I do my best to stay in the moment.
Kingston immediately walks over to Ross and extends his hand. He opens his mouth to say something, but Devyn immediately claps her hand over it.
“No talking!” she hisses.
He rolls his eyes and then pulls Ross in for a hug. I think he whispers “thank you,” but it’s hard to tell with all the chaos around us.
“This definitely calls for champagne,” Kellen says, popping the cork on a bottle that seems to have materialized out of thin air.
He takes a pull from the bottle and hands it to Kingston.
The bottle is almost empty by the time it gets to me, but I obligingly take one last swallow.
Kellen’s just about to open another bottle when Pete slips into the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
“The backstage area is mobbed,” he says. “How do you guys want to handle the press? Because they’re here and they’re looking for Ross.”
“Guys, this isn’t about me,” Ross says quickly. “I just did that as a favor to you.”
“The crowd loved it.” Tommy says firmly, “And they loved you. We don’t have anything to hide. King has laryngitis and you stepped in.”
“People were totally rockin’ out to ‘Shooting for the Stars’!”
“Maybe, but I’m not prepared to talk to the press. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. They’re gonna ask about Ross Rockit, and I really don’t want to talk about that.”
“But you are Ross Rockit,” Devyn says gently. “And like Tommy said, you haven’t done anything wrong. There’s no reason to lie.”
“Everyone is going to assume I’m coming out of retirement, and that’s not the case,” Ross says firmly. He looks troubled, and I hate that the light in his eyes from a few minutes ago has faded.
“You came out of retirement tonight, and maybe for a few more nights, to help out your friends until Kingston’s voice is back.”
“We’ve got this, bro,” Z says firmly. “We won’t let them put words in your mouth or push too far.
I’m known to get up and walk out of an interview, so journalists know if they go too far, I’m out.
Trust me, you’ve got this. Just talk about friendship, King having laryngitis, and being in the right place at the right time. ”
Ross slowly nods. “Alright. Whatever you guys think.”
Z turns to Pete. “Let them in.”
I move out of the way and stand off to the side with Harley, Jesse, and Presley.
“How cool was that?” Harley whispers excitedly in my ear.
If anyone comes close to loving Ross we get to go home with them.”
I know she’s right, but this isn’t my world. I’ve skirted the perimeter of this lifestyle as Harley’s sister, but it was never this personal. Harley was the one married to a rock star, and I was just a bystander who occasionally got to hang out with the band.
This is totally different.
Ross asked me out just before he took the stage, which could potentially change everything.
There’s simply no way in hell I could say no.
I’m not a giddy, star-struck teenager anymore, but Ross isn’t really a rock star anymore either.
This is just a few nights, sitting in for Kingston until he’s better. In a couple of weeks or so, Ross will go back to the anonymity of being Onyx Knight’s tour manager. And I go back to… what?
A job I hate.
An empty house.
My very mundane life.
Harley’s elbow digging into my rib snaps me back to the present and I realize a reporter has just asked Ross the million-dollar question.
“…about Ross & the Rock-its?”
It’s the same reporter that’s been hanging on him since she arrived.
Ross smiles even though I can tell it’s forced. “Ross & the Rock-its died nearly nineteen years ago,” he says quietly. “On a highway in Louisiana, just outside Baton Rouge. Tonight was nothing more than a favor to the band.”
“But aren’t you Onyx Knight’s manager?” Someone else asks.
“He is,” Z interjects smoothly. “So, it was very lucky for us that he was here, knows our music, and is talented enough to step in.”
“Kingston, how long do you think you’ll be out?” Someone calls.
Kingston grimaces and then shrugs his shoulders. Devyn steps in and says, “the doctors said anywhere from ten days to two weeks and we’re not going to do anything to risk the health of his voice.”
“But was it fun?” The pretty reporter, who continues to be glued to Ross’s side, appears to change tactics.
This time Ross’s smile is genuine. “Well, yeah! Getting to perform with the greatest rock band in the world? How could that be anything but fun?”
They answer a few more questions before Z lifts a hand. “That’s all for tonight, everyone. It’s been a long day, and we’re tired. Thank you for coming.”
Pete opens the dressing room door and the band’s security team appears, ready to escort them out to the bus. Ross immediately looks to me and holds out his hand. He pulls me against his side as soon as I take it and leads me out with the rest of the band.
“I need to oversee loadout,” he says. “You should—”
“Not tonight.” Z interrupts him. “We don’t expect you to play a full set like you did and then do loadout as well. Pete and the others can handle it.”
“But—” Ross starts to protest.
“I’ve got this,” Pete interjects from a few feet away. “Go. Celebrate. And rest, because there’s another show tomorrow night.”
“Am I singing again tomorrow night?” Ross asks in confusion.
“Were you not paying attention in there?” Devyn asks, laughing.
“Kingston needs at least ten days, possibly longer. He can play piano and sing a few of the lower register songs, but anything else could cause a setback. So, for the next couple of weeks, you are officially the lead singer of Onyx Knight.”
Ross tightens his grip on my hand but doesn’t say anything.
“You okay?” I ask softly.
“I think so. Tonight has just been a lot.”
“You were amazing out there.”
“Thanks for being there for me tonight. It means a lot.”
“Any time,” I say as we board the bus.
“Stay with me tonight, Wynter?”
Like there’s any universe where I could say no.