Chapter 5 #2
I might actually like her.
A woman with a headset strides over. “Hey, Outlaws! Lola wants to meet you all before sound check.”
The group moves like a migrating herd toward a doorway draped with velvet curtains. I follow, heart tapping a frantic rhythm.
***
Lola McRae is beautiful in a way that feels unfair. Her hair is a waterfall of red curls, her dress sparkles under the lights, and she has the kind of stage presence that could probably convince a tree to clap.
“Y’all made it!” she says, arms thrown wide.
When she speaks to Eli and Mia, she’s warm. When she speaks to Dex, she’s playful.
But when her gaze lands on Bryce?
Oh no.
“Oh,” she purrs. “Well, aren’t you something?”
Bryce shifts, awkward but polite. “Good to meet you.”
“You too,” Lola says, looking him over like he’s a dessert menu. “I hear you’re trouble.”
“Completely inaccurate,” he says.
“It’s fine,” Dex stage-whispers to Lola. “He’s trying to impress someone.”
My entire body tenses.
Bryce shoots him a murderous look that only makes Dex grin harder.
Lola turns to me next. “And you are?”
I shake her hand. “Annabelle. I work for the team.”
She gives me a look women give other women when they’re trying to assess whether they’re competition. “Nice to meet you.”
Her tone implies it might not actually be nice.
Before I can unpack that, a woman with a camera strolls by snapping backstage candids. When she angles toward Bryce, he steps aside.
Unfortunately, I step in the same direction.
She catches the photo at the exact moment Bryce glances back to check if I’m behind him. To anyone on earth, it looks like we’re standing very close. Too close.
The photographer’s expression lights up like she just spotted Bigfoot making out with the Loch Ness Monster.
“Oh no,” I whisper.
“Oh yes,” Bryce says.
Within thirty seconds, the picture is online.
Bryce Blackhorn spotted backstage with mystery woman before Nashville concert.
My soul leaves my body.
“I am not with him,” I say. “This is misleading. This is wildly misleading.”
“It’s Nashville,” Bryce says. “Breathing within ten feet of someone counts as a dating rumor.”
“Why are you so calm?”
“Because this isn’t my first rodeo.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“I need a drink,” I tell Mia.
***
Back in the VIP lounge, I’m barely recovered when Harper slips to my side. “You’re handling this well.”
I blink and glance around. “Wait… where’s Coach? Shouldn’t he be here?”
Harper laughs softly. “Oh, honey. Ryder does not hang out with the boys unless it’s required."
I nod. “That… actually makes sense.”
“I love Lola, and Mia snagged me a ticket. So here I am. Supervising you, supervising Bryce.”
I snort.
“You like him,” she says cheerfully.
“I do not like him.”
“You’re saying it with your mouth, but not your face.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means your face just yelled liar.”
Before I can respond, Lola materializes in the doorway again.
“Bryce,” she calls. “I want you on stage with me for a song tonight!”
My drink nearly launches itself from my hand.
Lola steps farther into the room, twirling a strand of her red hair as she saunters toward Bryce. “Seriously, honey, I’m doing a new song tonight. Brand new release. Emotional, raw, all about falling stupid-hard for someone you absolutely shouldn’t.”
Bryce looks amused. “Sounds intense.”
“Oh, it is,” she says, pressing a hand to her chest like she’s feeling the drama from within. “But songs like that need a spark. Someone the audience can look at and go, ‘Oh, she means him.’” She winks. “A real face makes it hit harder.”
“I’m not a prop,” Bryce says, though he’s smiling.
“You’d be my muse,” Lola corrects. “Just stand on stage, look pretty, and exist. I’ll do the heavy lifting.”
Dex snorts from the corner. “He’s good at that.”
Lola gestures broadly. “I’m telling you, the crowd will lose their minds. And when this single charts, we’ll both look like geniuses. You with your athlete celebrity, me with my powerhouse vocals, and together, bam. Viral magic.”
Bryce glances at me again, eyes glittering with mischief. “Tempting.”
My stomach does a full-body nosedive.
Lola beams. “So, you’ll do it?”
Bryce slowly turns to look at me, eyes bright with one clear message:
Try to stop me.
Heat crawls up my neck. Determination snaps through me.
Oh, I’ll try.
I’ll do more than try.
Because if Bryce Blackhorn thinks he’s going on stage in front of thousands of people where he can create a PR nightmare with one smirk?
"Uh, Bryce, I’m not sure this would be a good idea, given the team's guidelines with public appearances."
I am trying to be diplomatic here.
He smirks at me, slow and wicked, like he’s been waiting for this exact moment. Then he turns to Lola with infuriating charm and says, “Sounds fun. I’m in.”
“Ooh,” Eli says loudly, elbowing Dex. “Someone’s not listening to the boss.”
Dex perks up instantly. “Rebellion. My favorite flavor.”
Mason crosses his arms, grinning like he’s settling in for premium entertainment. “Annabelle, you gonna let him disobey direct orders on your watch?”
Bobby McDermott strolls over with his girlfriend Janie tucked under his arm. “Pretty bold to agree to something before your supervisor finishes her sentence.”
Janie laughs. “Bold or stupid. Hard to tell with hockey players.”
Gregory Mills nearly chokes on his drink. “Oh, it’s stupid. Big, shiny, neon stupid.”
Bryce shrugs, all maddening confidence. “Relax. It’s a harmless stage moment. PR gold.”
“PR gold?” I repeat. “Bryce, you once trended because you fell asleep in a Chipotle after a playoff game. You are not allowed to define PR gold.”
Dex raises his hand. “To be fair, that was iconic.”
Eli nods. “Honestly, one of his better moments.”
Bryce points at them. “Thank you. See? The people support me.”
“No,” Janie says sweetly. “They enjoy clowning you. It’s different.”
Gregory sips his drink. “So, Annabelle… what’s your move here? Gonna drag him offstage with a shepherd’s hook? Tackle him? Threaten him with paperwork?”
I open my mouth to fire back, but Bryce beats me to it, looking directly at me with that infuriating, sinful smirk.
“Careful,” he tells the guys. “She might.”
Dex leans in toward me. “Please do. I’d pay to watch it.”
I glare at all of them. “This is not a democracy. This is risk mitigation.”
Eli whistles. “Big words. She’s definitely mad.”
Bryce folds his arms, muscles flexing because of course they do. “C'mon Annabelle, you know this is harmless.”
I narrow my eyes. “Harmless isn’t a word I associate with you.”
“Oh, come on,” Mason says. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Bobby laughs. “Famous last words.”
Gregory lifts his drink toward Bryce. “Break a leg, lover boy. Preferably not literally. We need you functioning.”
Bryce tips his chin at me again like he has me exactly where he wants me.
He doesn’t.
He absolutely doesn’t.
But my pulse apparently didn’t get the memo.
The concert hasn’t even started.
And I am already losing control of the night.