Devil Side

by Lacey Dailey

  Instead we were exactly where we needed to be—together.

  Epilogue

  Max

  “Okay, remember to smile a little. Look like you’re having fun. I know it isn’t normally your style to get sweet with the crowd but I think you should be getting sweet with these people. It might not be too late to change the results.”

  My laughter is muffled by the speech that’s announcing my performance. The screams are deafening when my name passes through the microphone.

  Gripping my baby’s hand, I move quickly down a dark tunnel. Her perfectly styled curls swing behind her as she races to match my step in the pumps she’s wearing.

  “You’re going to be amazing.” She shouts to be heard over the screams, growing more thunderous and ear-splitting as we move closer to the stage. “If you screw up nobody will know. Except me and Aiden. Also, Trex and Gray. And, uhm, all the people who bought your album.” Her hand crushes mine. “Maybe you shouldn’t screw up.”

  “Gia.” Spinning around, I’m careful not to smack her in the face with Johnny. Just what she needs—a black eye at the Grammy awards. That’d go great with the sequin mini dress Aiden doesn’t approve of, glossed red lips, and big gold hoops in her ears.

  “Baby.” I kiss her head. “I think you’re more nervous than I am.”

  In this moment, I am a cucumber.

  I’m not sure what that says about me as an artist. What kind of musician steps on the stage in front of some of the best artists in the world and doesn’t get nervous?

  Me.

  Though this is the biggest stage I’ve ever performed on, and my audience is a couple hundred music legends, I am free of stress.

  Gia bawled her pretty eyes out the moment my nomination for Best New Artist was announced. Weeks later, when they asked me to perform, she blubbered for hours.

  I won’t lie and say I didn’t lose my mind for a solid few hours but I certainly did not obsess the way my girl did. I am incredibly humbled and honored my record was recognized alongside records that came from artists who put their entire soul into their music—the same as I do mine. Simply seeing my name next theirs was enough of an accomplishment. It won’t matter me to me if I walk away with a trophy or not.

  The past year and a half has been a whirlwind and a dream come true. My record released eight months after Gia and I returned to Vegas. For months, I spent seven days in the studio with Trex, writing and recording and then rewriting and re-recording when I was feeling indecisive.

  My manager took on one hundred different rolls in those months. Gia hired somebody to build me a website, set me up with radio interviews, and booked me small gigs. My girl managed to sweet talk her way into getting some of the best directors in the industry to oversee my first two music videos. She blasted my record release all over social media, and within twenty-four hours of announcing it, my first tour was sold out.

  All thanks to her.

  “Alright, Max.” A man approaches me. Dressed in all black, a clipboard in his hand, I know he’s important. “You’re on in thirty seconds.”

  Pushing my ear monitors in, I give my girl a kiss and move swiftly onto the dark stage. The second I’m in the center, I’m surrounded by people that move with the skill of a ninja. They adjust my microphone stand, plug Johnny into his amp, and check that I’m not having a panic attack.

  I’m not.

  They run from the stage, and I conclude I have about eight seconds before the spotlight hits me. I smile as I wait, counting backward in my head. The nerves come then, dancing beside my bones.

  The lights come up, and I open my mouth. With the first strum of my guitar, the nerves heighten. It fuels me.

  Less than a hundred feet away, my girl stands in the curtains, watching from the side of the stage because she was too stubborn to sit in the audience like everybody else. I know without looking she’s singing along.

  I titled my record Devil Side—after the song that captured the heart’s of all who listened. It was my first single and the song I sing now. Looking into the crowd, I find that Gia isn’t the only who sings along.

  It’s a heady feeling, watching hundreds of people’s lips move as they scream the words to a song I wrote with Aiden. It was the first song we wrote together, penning a story of our past that didn’t come from a place of pain or fear.

  Gia believes it’s the most uplifting, soul-bearing song I’ve written. I’m not sure I would categorize it as uplifting. If anything, I’d say the song is a love letter.

  Together, the lyrics and the melody are a love letter to the person I share a soul with. Aiden protected me when nobody else did. He taught me what bravery was and manifests courage in a way I never will. It was him who encouraged me to open my heart to a woman who brought us nothing but peace.

  My devil side isn’t a devil at all. There is nothing evil or monstrous about him. Aiden is a saint—a paragon of strength. He is someone I have no trouble pulling back for.

  Someone who deserves just as much as I do.

  He deserves the applause I receive as I hold up my hand in appreciation and wait for the lights to dim. He deserves the squeal that explodes from our girl and the kisses that paint our face when she jumps into our arms backstage.

  Most of all, he deserves the gramophone trophy that is placed in our hands an hour later when we win Best New Artist.

  I promised myself if I did win, I would embody the cucumber. The moment I walk onto the stage, my eyes connect with Gia’s and I lose my shit. Tears race down my cheeks, dripping off my chin and onto the stage beside my feet. My voice cracks as I cry on live television, thanking everybody I can in thirty seconds.

  I save a whoosh of breath and most of my tears for the woman who changed me forever.

  It’s because of that woman that I stand here today. It was her who believed in me. It was her who got me that gig in Vegas, introduced me to Landon, and encouraged me to meet Trex. It was her who never complained when she fell asleep on a shitty couch inside the studio and patiently watched as I rewrote a song for the third time.

  That woman taught me what it feels like when both parts of me are loved just as deeply as one. She took one broken soul and weaved it with hers. She kissed our rough parts, welcoming them as they were and healing them with acceptance.

  We will love her desperately for the rest of this life and all the ones that follow.

  Forever.

  My speech ends, and the music set to usher me off the stage increases in volume. I stay rooted in my spot, sweaty hands gripping my trophy. Through the standing ovation I’m receiving, I find her eyes.

  Confused, she stares at me, swiping at her tears. Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth and she has a hand over her heart.

  The excess people around us vanish, and I open my mouth. I take a breath big enough to rock me back on my heels. Grasping onto the strength Aiden shares with me, I ask her. “Will you marry us?”

  The lights dim before I can blink. Her answer is lost to the announcer keeping the awards on schedule. I race off the stage, pushing through oversized crowds of people. With frantic eyes and my heart exposed, I scan the backstage area. Lights flash wildly, coming at me from all directions. Reporters shout questions at me, thrusting microphones in my face. I dodge them all with a promise to return and barrel towards the hallway that will lead me to her.

  As soon as I round the corner, I spot her. She’s sprinting down the tunnel—her dress ensuring she looks every bit like the star she is. Even now, barefoot and curls wild, she’s still the prettiest one we’ve ever seen.

  I match her speed, struggling to read the words falling from her lips. Squinting my eyes, I wish for whoever is performing to take a breath in their song so I can hear her words.

  Aiden realizes something before I do. Our heart lurches, and I stumble. Beneath our skin, our blood warms us to a temperature reachable only when Gia’s around. The corners of my eyes wrinkle when I finally understand what he’s trying to tell me.

  Sh
e’s saying yes!

  “Yes! Max, yes!”

  Suddenly, it’s the only word I can hear. She yells it. Over and over and over again until she’s in my arms and I swallow her yes with my lips. Her shoes slip from her fingers and hit the floor. Arms, familiar and strong, wind around my neck. I lift her off her feet, crying as I kiss her.

  I have hard time deciphering who the tears are coming from. That thump in our heart, the extra one just for her, grows louder the longer we kiss her. With my trophy on the floor next to her shoes and red lipstick staining the corners of our mouth, we kiss her with air as an afterthought.

  We’re getting married.

  Us.

  Aiden and I.

  One soul shared by two people who were never supposed to mesh with another. One soul who entered this world with a cry that didn’t stop until we met her. One soul and one heart that belongs entirely to her.

  One soul that still can’t quite believe it because… holy shit.

  She said yes.

  Acknowledgments

  Nina Buccilli, how many times can I thank you before you get sick of hearing it? Thank you for allowing me to talk nonstop and pretending to listen intently. You're my very best friend.

  Tristan, I love you. Thank you for your constant encouragement.

  Monique, thank you for the numerous suggestions you provided and all the time and work you put into this novel. You keep me sane.

  Farah, you are a gem. I’m so glad I met you. Thank you for your kindness and support.

  Thank you to my author friends who shower me with positivity. This journey would be no where near as amazing without you to share it with. I’m so thankful for each of you.

  Thank you to the bloggers and bookstagrammers who have supported me nonstop. The love I feel from you all is profound. I could not succeed without your unwavering support. This community is uplifting because you make it that way.

  Thank you to all the readers and bloggers who joined my reader group, Lacey’s Lounge, on Facebook. I love learning about each and everyone of you, and I’m so grateful I have such a positive group of readers to share my journey with.

  As always, thank you to all the readers who continue to read my novels and express their love and interest. It means more to me than you’ll ever know. You chose to read my books over the millions of books available, and I’ll never take that for granted. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review. Reviews fuel indie authors.

  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  XO, Lacey

  About the Author

  The best place to find Lacey is with her nose in a book. She’s a sucker for a good love story and a happy ending that has her swooning. When she’s not obsessing over giving her own characters a happy ending, you can find her in the dance studio empowering young dancers and giving out tons of stickers. Thanks to her mother’s pizzeria, Lacey can make a delicious pizza.

  When she’s not putting on her dance shoes or inhaling a slice of pizza, she’s in front of her computer binge watching romantic comedies and penning stories with love so powerful, it’ll last a lifetime. As a recent graduate of Central Michigan University, Lacey intends to keep inspiring people through dance and lots and lots of words. She currently lives in Central Michigan surrounded by her family and unpredictable weather.

  Connect with Lacey:

  www.laceydaileyauthor.com

  Also by Lacey Dailey

  Circuit Series

  Specter

  Mischief

  * * *

  Standalone

  Creating Chaos

  Alma Underwood Is Not A Kleptomaniac