“Don’t let it go to your head. I only gave in because I don’t want you to blow your stitches and bleed to death.”
“Amen to that. So, what are you singing tonight?”
“Some new stuff.”
“Have I heard it?”
“Nope.”
“Sweet. You better have one of Shipton’s cronies record it for me so I can watch your performance and make fun of you after.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” If she had to, she’d prop her smart phone up on the edge of the stage and send it to him herself.
She was about to hang up, but AJ stopped her.
“Hey, E. I’m sorry about Chance.”
So, he had been paying attention. “Me, too.”
“I want revenge. Kill it tonight. Make him regret it.”
“Regret what?”
“Giving you up.”
She joked around for a few more minutes and hung up. The joke was on her. She would be thinking about Chance Walker with every note played onstage during the concert, and he would never have a clue.
Which was just fine with her. Heartbreak was the only dish on the menu tonight, and she didn’t need to choke it down with Chance as a witness.
Chapter Eighteen
Chance hovered on the edge of the screaming pit crowd and realized he was absolutely, totally, completely screwed. Twenty minutes into her first performance and Eva James’s name had begun to trend on social media. His brothers were blowing up his phone forwarding everything to him that popped up online.
Videos. Photos. Declarations of love and lust. Marriage proposals.
Derek seemed to be the only one tracking the offers of wedded bliss. Fucker. He thanked his brother for sharing and deleted every message as soon as he read it.
He didn’t need to be any more nervous than he already was. Because halfway here on the plane he’d realized one very important detail…Erin never said she loved him. She never said she wanted him around.
Hell, she’d dumped him in that hospital and walked away without a backward glance.
While his brothers cyber stalked his woman from almost a thousand miles away, he watched her onstage and wondered if he’d made a huge, monster-sized fucking mistake. Here he stood, less than twenty paces from her, and he felt like he was staring at a phantom, a ghost. And he was deathly afraid that if he reached out to grab her, she’d float through his fingers like smoke.
Eva James was dressed to kill tonight, and as much as he hated to know that every single man in the known world would be lusting for her, he was also ridiculously proud of her. Her voice wrapped around his cock and stirred it to life. She looked hot. Not just hot, burn-his-balls-off hot.
Her wig was pale white and fell past her shoulders in a straight curtain of silver that glistened like snowflakes in sunlight. He watched the monitors and was rewarded with a glimpse of her bright amber contacts lined with black. Ruby-red lips teased and tempted with every word out of her mic. She wore scarlet angel’s wings that rose above her shoulders and fell to the backs of her knees in long, sensual, feathered tips, a tight white mini-skirt, knee-high white boots with spike heels and a white bustier tied with bright red ribbon in a crisscross pattern over her breasts. The shiny ribbon was about an inch wide and wound its way down the front of the garment, over her stomach to weave through the hem around her waist.
One tug on that scarlet ribbon, and that luscious body would be bared, and his for the taking.
If she would have him.
They finished the song and the crowd screamed and cheered her on. As always, Eva James had the crowd in the palm of her hand. Chance flashed his pass at the large security guards and circled around to watch her from backstage. She was like a sorceress up there, some kind of hypnotist that had everyone enthralled, including him.
“Thank you.” Her husky voice quieted the crowd a bit, and the lighting dimmed. Her musicians faded into the background and walked off stage, job done. But they waited, taking up space wherever they could see the stage. The stage went dark except for one spotlight on Erin and another that illuminated a very large, white grand piano as it rolled slowly and silently onto center stage. The smooth top of the piano had been draped in blood-red roses and a good number of the flowers covered the piano’s platform on the stage floor.
The crowd held its collective breath as the haunting beauty of the angel and her rose-covered piano infiltrated the far edges of the concert hall.
Eva James looked down at her feet, then up at the crowd. “My last song tonight is brand new. You all are the first people to ever hear it.”
The crowd cheered a little, but the beauty on stage raised her hand and they waited to hear what she would say next.
“I wrote this song for anyone out there who’s ever had their heart broken.” She blew a kiss to the screaming crowd and Chance followed her with his eyes, unable to look away. This was his Erin, raw and fearless onstage, in front of thousands of people. And he had the sinking feeling that he was about to find out exactly how she felt about him, the same time everyone else did.
She abandoned the mic stand to take a seat on a white stool next to the piano where a member of her band sat dressed all in black. Erin held a blood red electric guitar on her lap. Her red wings looked darker in the soft lighting, taking on an ethereal quality, and her hair sparkled with silver. She looked like a fairy, or a mythical goddess come to life.
Chance couldn’t look away if he wanted to, and neither could anyone else.
The soft, minor chords drifted from the piano in a tender, melancholy harmony as she started to play her guitar. Her voice tugged at his heart with bittersweet lyrics. The chorus, when it came, held him spellbound.
Crash and burn
My heart you have to
Work to earn
I don’t give my love away
To every boy who wants to play
I thought that you were more
Than I had before
But you made me
Crash and burn
Crash and burn
She sang another verse, but the final words of the song made him want to run up on that stage and bleed for her.
Now my heart
Still Cries
And broken hearts
Tell no lies
The song ended as her voice filled the space and reverberated through every single person, connecting them all in a moment of reverent understanding. Her voice infiltrated his entire body. He’d heard that voice before, that tone, when he’d had her writhing with need. When she’d begged. When she hadn’t been holding back.
What she’d shared with the world tonight was raw, and real, and so fucking powerful that he felt like the entire world forgot to breathe until she was done.
Silence.
The eruption built with the power of a volcano, and then the crowd went wild, their enthusiasm deafening. She remained, bent over her guitar in front of that white piano with her wings in the air, a tragic figure that no one here tonight would ever forget as the stage went dark and her name flashed across the screens in a vibrant red that matched her wings.
The crowd roared its approval, but she was gone. Vanished from the stage like the ghost he’d feared.
My heart still cries…
He’d done that to her.
Wrecked her.
But she’d wrecked him, too. Two days. That was how long he’d managed to survive without her. And he had no intention of living another minute making the same fucking mistake.
Backstage turned into a zoo as Erin and her band walked back out front and took their bows. The headliner’s crew set up behind them in the dark with impressive efficiency and the band members flowed around him, taking their positions.
He wanted them to hurry up so he could get to Erin. He needed to talk to her. Touch her. Kiss her. He needed to let her know…
She ran off stage opposite him and leapt into Wesley Shipton’s arms. The other man swung her around twice before setting her down on her
feet.
Chance stood, frozen.
Had he been replaced already?
Wesley Shipton looked entirely too pleased with himself. His suit was silver and expensive and his eyes followed Erin with barely hidden desire.
Erin babbled to him, excited and oblivious to his interest as she took her phone from him and checked something on it. She jumped excitedly and kissed Shipton on the cheek.
Erin’s kiss broke Chance free of his paralysis and he moved behind the stage toward the two, who walked down the hallway toward what had to be the dressing rooms. Their heads were bent over together, looking at something, and Wesley Shipton offered Erin his arm as he escorted her out of the concert arena and away from the noise.
Derek was right. Shipton wanted her, and not just her music.
Over his fucking dead body.
<><><>
Erin could barely contain herself. She felt like her costume was the only thing holding her together.
She leapt off stage with the roar of more than five thousand fans at her back and thanked the guys who’d played with her. Studio musicians were freaking gods of music. They nodded, and grinned at her unbridled enthusiasm. This was her dream. For them, it was just another day at work.
Wesley was waiting for her side stage with a huge smile on his face.
Finally! Someone as excited as she was!
Unable to resist, she leapt at him when he opened his arms and threw her head back with joyous laughter as he swung her around.
“That was amazing.”
Wes chuckled and set her down. “Ready to do it again?”
“Yes. When?”
“Tomorrow night. Same time. Same place.”
“Yes.” Erin couldn’t help herself and she hopped up and down before she got her body back under control. “Sorry. I can’t help it.”
Wes held out her cell phone. “Genuine emotion is what sells records. Don’t ever apologize for being real.”
“Okay.” She grinned and reached for the phone. “Did you get it?”
“Of course.”
Erin pressed play on the loaded video and Wesley leaned over her shoulder to watch with her as she reviewed a few seconds of her performance. “I look amazing.” She couldn’t believe that was her onstage. The lighting. The outfit. The song. God, that song.
“Yes, you do. And we dropped the track an hour ago onto all the major retailers. Congratulations, Erin. I just got a text from the marketing team. You’re already trending.” He grinned and she was so happy she had to share her joy. She lifted on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek.
“Thanks, Wes. For everything.”
“My pleasure. Believe me.” Her eyes were glued to the screen on her phone, watching a winged goddess work the stage as Wesley led her back to the dressing rooms so she could get changed. He held out an elbow and absently, she took it, completely focused on uploading the video to the internet so her brother could watch it.
Wesley escorted her to the pressroom where she smiled, answered the same question fifty times and posed for pictures. The attention and excitement from the bloggers and reporters made her head spin, but after fifteen minutes she felt like she was about to implode. She needed some peace and quiet. And no people.
Wesley stood to the side, answered the handful of questions thrown his way, and watched the entire process, an anchor for her when she desperately needed it. Wes was a gentleman and a professional. He was gorgeous and sexy and successful and she was grateful that he was watching out for her.
But he wasn’t Chance.
This night was perfect in every way but one…her heart was still broken. She missed Chance, wished he could have seen her tonight. Really wished he could have shared this with her. She had so much joy bubbling through her, and no one to share it with.
But Chance didn’t want this life. Nothing was going to change that. They were two fundamentally different people. Star-crossed lovers. Epic tragedy, Romeo and Juliet level, wrong for each other. But she loved him anyway. He was the one who had made her strong enough to follow her dreams. He was the reason she’d been strong enough to leave him…and that was part of the reason she hurt so damn much.
“Erin!” Chance’s voice echoed to her from the hallway, but the music was so loud she thought she must be hearing things. Great. Now she missed him so much she was conjuring his voice.
“Erin!”
She would have kept walking, but Wesley stopped and turned back toward the stage. Curious, she looked up and swore her heart stopped beating.
“Chance? What are you doing here?” Seeing him again brought back the raw pain and she wrapped one hand around her stomach in self-defense. He looked good. Too good. His dark hair was slightly tussled and his eyes were bright and focused completely on her. Intense. The way he looked when he was buried inside her and wanted to watch her come. His thin, dark green shirt and jeans were casual, but hugged his chest and thighs enough to make her hungry to touch.
Chance looked at Wesley, who shrugged. “I guess I’ll leave you two alone.”
She waited with Chance in the back hallway. Security and venue staff hustled up and down the hall as Wesley walked away, out of earshot. Wesley turned the corner and Erin put her hands on her hips so she wouldn’t touch Chance. “What are you doing here?”
She had used the time Wesley bought her to get her heart back under control. Chance had let her walk out of his life once already, and hadn’t even tried to keep her. White picket fence. Two-point-five kids. Dinner parties and pearls. She had to remember that. He didn’t want a nomadic lifestyle, spike heels, crazy wigs and angel wings. And she still respected his choice. Nothing had changed.
“Can we talk?”
“We’re talking right now. What do you want?”
He looked up and down the hall and made brief eye contact with a large security guard just a few steps away. “Privacy.”
Ignoring the voice of reason, Erin led him to her dressing room and allowed him to come in. When the door was closed, she turned to face him. “What do you want, Chance?”
“You.”
She shook her head. “Don’t.” He took a step forward and she held up her hands to ward him off. “Just don’t. We’ve already had this conversation. I’m not what you want. I can never be what you want.”
He backed her up to the door and her wings cushioned her shoulders as he pressed closer. “You have no idea what I want, Erin Michaelson.”
Their breaths mingled and her heart raced with desire. Hope. Love. The love hurt the most. “Then tell me.” She held her hands clenched in fists at her sides. If she touched him, she’d be lost, she’d give him anything he wanted, promise him anything. That was the truth she’d lived with for the last forty-eight hours, the knowledge that she’d never get over him, never stop loving him. Ever.
“I want you to forgive me for being such a self-absorbed ass. I thought I had my future all planned out. I was buried so deep in the rut that I couldn’t see my way out of it.” He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Can you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Chance. You want a normal life. A normal family. I get it. You don’t have to apologize.” She closed her eyes so he wouldn’t see the pain. “Can you let me go now, please?”
“No, Erin. I can’t. That’s the problem. I quit my job today and flew a thousand miles just so I could kiss you.”
“You’re crazy.” She kept her eyes closed, but felt him move in closer, his chest crushed her breasts and his lips grazed hers. Was it true? Had he walked away from his new partnership at the law firm? A cush, high-paying job and all the future accolades and promotions?
“But I can’t kiss you yet. Do you know why?”
“No. Why?” Oh, she was so stupid, but she wanted to know, and she wanted his kiss, no matter how much it would hurt when he left her again.
“Because one kiss would never be enough, Erin. I need more.”
Her body screamed at him to take anything he wanted, b
ut her heart had curled into a quivering mess behind her rib cage. When she remained silent he rubbed his lips across hers again before trailing kisses along her jaw.
“Don’t you want to know how many kisses I need?”
“You know the number?”
“Yes.”
That made her wonder, against her better judgment. Curiosity killed the cat… “Okay. How many?”
He leaned in and pressed his forearms flat to the door on either side of her head, caging her in with the heat and warmth of his body. She felt him move and couldn’t resist the urge to open her eyes. She had to see him, needed to look into his eyes.
“Well, the way I figure it…” Chance stared down at her, his gaze locked with hers. “I’ll need at least one kiss, every single day, for the rest of my life.”
Every day? What? Was she hearing things? Was her crazy brain twisting his words? Was she hallucinating? She didn’t dare reply, because if this moment wasn’t real, she never wanted to wake up. She wanted to savor this moment, this perfect, sexy moment, before reality crashed down on her. Because cold, hard truth always found her. Always.
“Erin? Did you hear me? I love you. Say something.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Why?” His eyes had gone dark and hard, hurt. He held her gaze as his words stripped her soul bare for an extended inspection. “Tell me why. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. Talk to me.”
The heat of his body warmed her, made her feel treasured and loved. Desired. Adored. His gaze locked to hers with absolute focus and made her hope that he meant what he said. She was the one with a choice now, risk the truth, or shut him down and walk away.
Truth. Always truth.
“I’m a mess, Chance. You don’t want to be with a girl like me.”
“You’re wrong. That’s all I want.”
“You don’t even know me.” He opened his mouth to protest again, but she lifted her head and planted a quick kiss on his lips to shut him up. “I’m an alcoholic. I was in rehab at nineteen.”
“I already knew that. And that just proves that you’re strong, Erin, not weak.”
Crash and Burn (Love You Like A Love Song #1) Page 17