32. Thirty-Two
Thirty-Two
Luke
The lights dim as we take our seats, and I still can’t take my eyes off Lila. The way she moves in that dress, the elegant line of her neck as she leans in to whisper something to Emily—it’s driving me crazy. When she crosses her legs, the slit in her dress revealing just a hint of thigh, I have to force myself to look away.
“Dude, you’re practically drooling,” Vince mutters from my other side, looking sharp in his own designer suit.
“Can you blame me? ”
He glances at Lila and grins. “Nope. But try to keep it together. We’re on camera.”
He’s right. The entire arena is wired with cameras, catching every reaction, every intimate moment. I should be paying attention to the show and to the presenters announcing the first round of awards. Instead, I’m hyperaware of Lila’s perfume, the way her hand feels in mine, and the slight nervous energy radiating off her.
“And the award for Song of the Year goes to...” There’s that dramatic pause they all do. “Kendrick Wild for ‘Another Night, Another Tear’ performed by Pixie Cane!”
Kendrick faces the crowd as she stands in front of the microphone. She’s composed but glowing. “This song came from a place of raw honesty,” she says, clutching the golden award. “And I couldn’t have written it without my rock, my heart, my everything—Cass.”
The camera cuts to Cass, and he’s not even trying to hide his emotions. He smiles wider, his eyes glowing with that intense, unshakable devotion he always has for her.
“And to our beautiful daughter Cassidy, who teaches me daily what love really means.” Kendrick blows a kiss toward the camera for Cassidy, who she knows is watching from home .
Kendrick continues, turning to where Pixie is standing near the edge of the stage. “Pixie, thank you for taking this song and making it so much more than I ever imagined. Your voice, your artistry—it brought these lyrics to life in a way only you can.”
Pixie grins and rushes onto the stage, pulling Kendrick into a tight hug before taking the mic.
“This woman is a freaking wizard,” Pixie says, flipping her pink-streaked hair over her shoulder. “Seriously, Kendrick, I’d be honored to sing anything you write. You just say the word.”
The crowd cheers, and Cass stands. I catch the moment he reaches for Kendrick’s hand as she steps down, her fingers sliding effortlessly into his.
It’s so damn easy for them.
Like breathing.
I glance at Lila out of the corner of my eye.
She’s still clapping, still smiling, as she watches Kendrick return to her seat.
I want that with her.
More than I’ve ever wanted anything.
The night moves on, the awards rolling out one by one.
The tension ramps up when the category for Album of the Year is next. The host is back, and I feel the energy in our section shift.
“Album of the Year nominees are...”
Lila’s grip on my hand tightens as they play clips from each nominated album. When they get to ours, “Living Wild,” the screen fills with footage from our stadium tour, the crowds singing along to every word.
“And the Award goes to...”
I hold my breath, feeling the same tension from the rest of the band. We’ve won before, but this album was different. More personal. More real.
“Wild Band for ‘Living Wild’!”
The roar is deafening. We’re all on our feet, hugging, laughing. Cass pulls Kendrick into a passionate kiss before we head to the stage. I steal one last look at Lila, and the pride shining in her eyes makes my heart stutter.
The weight of the award in my hands feels familiar but no less thrilling. Cass takes the lead at the microphone, thanking our producers, our team, and our families. When he gets to Kendrick and Cassidy, his voice roughens with emotion .
Nate thanks the fans, always the diplomatic one. Vince makes everyone laugh with a quick quip about finally having something heavy enough to use as a doorstop.
When it’s my turn, I find Lila in the crowd. She’s glowing, clapping, and looking at me like I’ve hung the moon. And suddenly, I know exactly what to say.
“Damn,” I breathe out, adjusting the mic. The crowd laughs, but my chest tightens with something deeper than nerves. Gratitude.
“Sometimes the best music comes from unexpected places,” I say, scanning the room, my gaze instinctively locking on Lila. She’s watching me with those warm hazel eyes that somehow ground me, even in a moment this big. “Like when you’re sharing pancakes at midnight, and you’re hungry for something more than just food.”
The audience probably thinks I’m being metaphorical, but Lila’s hand flies to her mouth, her eyes shining.
“This album,” I continue, clearing my throat, “was a labor of love. And, honestly, a little bit of chaos. We wrote these songs on the road, in dressing rooms, and in hotel rooms at three in the morning. We lived them before we ever recorded them. And to see them resonate with so many people? That’s the real award.”
I glance at Cass, who gives me a small nod, and then at the rest of the band. “To my brothers—Cass, Nate, Sam, Vince—you guys are the best damn bandmates anyone could ask for. We built this thing together, and I wouldn’t trade a single second of the journey.”
I shift slightly, gripping the award tighter, my voice dropping just a little. “To my dad—Jim Sterling—you taught me that no matter how hard things get, you never stop fighting for what matters. I hope I make you proud.”
A beat of silence, then I take a slow breath and do the thing I never planned on doing—but somehow, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
“And, lastly,” I say, my voice unshakable now, “to the woman who reminds me what all of this means, who’s made me see the music in a whole new way.”
Lila’s eyes widen, lips parting slightly, but I keep going.
“You walked into my life when I least expected it. And whether you know it or not, you’ve been inspiring me ever since. ”
The crowd reacts, murmurs, and whispers rippling through the room, but I don’t break eye contact with her.
“Thank you.”
The cheers are deafening.
And as I step back, my heart is pounding—not from the award, not from the cameras—but from the way Lila is looking at me.
Like I just changed everything.
Because I probably did.
The energy in the grand ballroom is electric, charged with the high of victory. The band just won Album of the Year, and the celebration is in full swing—music thumping, champagne flowing, and the entire party pulses around us.
I should be riding that high with them.
But I can barely focus on any of it.
Because Lila is in my arms, and that’s the only thing that matters.
We’re dancing, her body pressed against mine, moving in sync with the slow, sensual beat, and all I can focus on is how she feels. The way her dress slides like water beneath my fingers, how it clings to every damn curve, it’s testing every last shred of my self-control.
She hasn’t said much about my speech yet—about the words that laid claim to her in front of thousands of people.
But I see it in her eyes. She’s feeling dazed and a little breathless.
And that’s enough for now.
I pull her closer, not caring who sees. Lowering my mouth to her ear, my voice rough and low, I murmur, “I meant every word.” My hand splays across her bare back, feeling her shiver at my touch. “You do inspire me.”
Her breath catches, and she looks up at me with those eyes that see straight through the rockstar facade. I have to fight the urge to kiss her right here in front of everyone.
Instead of responding, she presses closer, her fingers curling into my jacket, her body molding against mine like she was made for me.
I want her.
More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life .
When Emily and Sam tell us they’re staying and that they’re riding back with Cass and Kendrick, my pulse kicks up a notch. A private ride back with Lila? In that dress?
“You sure?” I stammer out.
“Please,” Emily rolls her eyes. “Like you’ve been paying attention to anything else all night anyway.”
My decision is made for me—I’m done with this party.
I need to get Lila the hell out of here. Fast.
“Let’s go,” I murmur, tightening my hold on her waist. She nods.
We make our goodbyes quick, and just like that, we slip out of the ballroom and into the night.
The moment the limo door closes.
I don’t even think—I just grab her.
I pull Lila onto my lap, finally able to touch her the way I’ve been wanting to all night.
My hands slide over the silky fabric of her dress, my mouth crashing against hers in a kiss that’s all teeth and desperation.
Lila gasps, her hands flying to my shoulders, but she’s kissing me back, just as hungry, just as reckless.
I drag my lips down her neck, groaning at the way she arches into me, her body pressing against mine—I know she can feel my body harden.
“Do you have any idea,” I growl against her skin, “what this dress has been doing to me?” My hands find the slit in her dress, sliding up her thigh.
She gasps. “Luke—the driver—“
“Privacy partition,” I remind her, nipping at her pulse point. “And I’ve been going crazy wanting to touch you all night.”
My hand continues searching, fingers teasing beneath the slit of her dress, and she makes a soft, breathy sound that goes straight to my damn groin.
The ride is torture of the sweetest kind. Her hair falls from its elegant style as my fingers tangle in it. When I find her dampness under her dress, she bites my shoulder to stay quiet, and I nearly lose my mind.
“Almost there,” I promise, my voice rough with need. “Damn, you’ re beautiful like this.”
“Luke—“
The car slows.
A sharp knock against the divider.
I curse, pressing my forehead against hers as I try to catch my breath.
“We’re almost there, Mr. Sterling,” the driver announces quietly.
Lila laughs, breathless, her lips swollen from my kisses.
I grin, dark and dangerous, adjusting my hold on her hips.
Oh, baby,“ I murmur, my voice a promise, “It’s going to be a long night.”
We barely manage to straighten ourselves before reaching the hotel.
As I take her hand and turn.
“Wait,” she gasps. “Your award.”
Reaching into the back seat, I scoop up the gilded gramophone, clutching it tightly in my hand before slamming the limo door shut.
“Thank you. ”
If I thought the limo ride was bad. The elevator is even worse—we stand on opposite sides, both knowing one touch will undo all our restraint.
Lila stands beside me, her arms crossed, her chest rising and falling too fast, her entire body wired with tension.
I can still taste her, still feel the way she melted against me in the back of that limo.
And now, with just a few floors between us and our hotel suite, we’re both holding on by a damn thread.
She shifts, the side slit of her dress parting slightly, giving me a glimpse of bare skin.
I grit my teeth, clenching my fists.
If I touch her now, I won’t be able to stop.
She glances up at me, her hazel eyes dark and knowing.
“Luke…” she whispers.
I don’t know if I can trust myself to answer.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispers.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to devour me. ”
I can’t help my wolfish smile. “But I do.”
The elevator dings.
The doors slide open.
And without a single word, I grab her hand, pulling her inside the suite—and slamming the door shut behind us.