"We don't have to tell them, if you'd rather get out of here."
I seriously debated it for a moment.
After all, the night had been great as it was, thanks to Gideon.
But I knew it'd bother me later, if I denied Shawna and Arnoldo - who was also a Six-Ninths fan - something they'd remember for the rest of their lives.
And I'd be lying if I didn't admit to myself that I wanted to catch a glimpse of Brett up close.
I didn't want him to see me, but I wanted to see him.
"No.
Let's take them back there."
Gideon grabbed my hand and spoke to our friends, whose excitement over the news gave me the excuse to say I'd done it solely for them.
We headed down toward the stage, then off to the side of it, where Gideon spoke to the massive man acting as security.
When the guy spoke into the mic of his headset, Gideon pulled out his cell and told Angus to bring the limo around to the back.
While he spoke, his eyes met mine.
The heat in them and the promise of pleasure took my breath away.
"Your man is the ultimate," Shawna said, eyeing Gideon with a look of near reverence.
It wasn't a predatory look, just an appreciative one.
"I can't believe this night.
I owe you big-time for this."
She pulled me in for a quick, hard hug.
"Thank you."
I hugged her back.
"Thank you for inviting me."
A tall, rangy man with blue streaks in his hair and stylish black-framed glasses approached us.
"Mr.
Cross," he greeted Gideon, extending his hand.
"I didn't know you'd be coming tonight."
Gideon shook the man's hand.
"I didn't tell you," he replied smoothly, reaching his other hand out to me.
I caught it and he pulled me forward, introducing me to Robert Phillips, Six-Ninths' manager.
Shawna and Arnoldo were introduced next; then we were led back through the wings, where activity was high and groupies loitered.
I suddenly didn't want to catch even a glimpse of Brett.