The Pool Boy - Nikki Sloane Page 0,96

It was what I wanted, and when I claimed it was the best way to distract me from my nerves, she allowed it.

It worked too.

As soon as I had my mouth on hers, she was all I could think about.

Then, we’d climbed aboard the cart, were transported down the tunnel, and unloaded into the backstage area.

Shit got real as I climbed the short staircase onto the side of the stage.

“Erika,” my voice filled with panic, “I don’t remember the lyrics.”

She paused. “For which song?”

My heart was pounding. “Any of them.”

But rather than look alarmed, she smiled. Her warm hands grabbed mine and she pulled me close enough to set her forehead against mine.

“I have climbed,” she sang softly, “the highest mountains.”

Hearing the opening line in her amazing voice was all I needed, and the rest of the lyrics flooded back in a wave of relief. “Okay,” I whispered. “I got it.”

The guy in charge of equipment appeared and handed me my acoustic guitar, but I kept one hand tangled with Erika’s. I wasn’t ready to let go of her just yet. The guy’s gaze dropped to our linked hands, but his expression didn’t change. He didn’t care, and disappeared back to his seat beside the guitar bay.

We didn’t have to wait long for the stage manager to show up. He was an older, grizzled-looking guy, and had been the one to explain where my marks were during my soundchecks.

He gave me a once-over and a smile. “You all set, man?”

“Yeah.” Despite my warmup, my voice was tight, and I cleared my throat.

“Awesome.” He pressed the button to his radio, and I heard his voice echo in Erika’s earpiece. “We go in one minute.”

“Oh, fucking shit,” I muttered under my breath. I probably looked pale and clammy, but once I stepped on the stage, I’d be fine.

Erika’s hand squeezed mine. “You’re going to be incredible,” she said. “I’m so happy for you.”

It was hard to focus. Inside, I was being pulled in a million different directions, but at her voice, everything snapped into place. I didn’t want her to be happy for me . . .

I wanted her to be happy for us.

I turned to stare at her. She looked so beautiful tonight. Sexy and powerful, and it wasn’t lost on me that this woman was the entire reason I was here. “This is all because of you.”

She laughed. “You are giving me way too much credit.”

“I’m serious, Erika. I don’t just mean the audition. The whole reason I learned to play was to impress you.”

“House lights down,” the stage manager announced.

My heart continued to beat furiously and blood roared through my ears, but I couldn’t hear it. Only the excitement sweeping through the crowd when the arena suddenly darkened, signaling the concert was about to begin.

A smile grew on Erika’s lips until she was grinning wildly. “Well, then . . . go out there and impress me.”

It was exactly what I needed to hear. “Yes, ma’am.”

TWENTY-FIVE

Erika

Troy took a deep breath, and then he was moving forward in the darkness, carrying his guitar.

Did he know I was right there with him, breath hung painfully in my lungs? I’d done my best to be his strength, and now that he was on stage, the anxiety I’d held at bay ripped through me as an electrical current. It magnetized me in place. I wouldn’t be able to move an inch for the next fifteen minutes.

In the low light, I saw his shadowy figure come to the microphone, put the guitar strap over his head, and settle into playing position. The swell of the crowd had faded, the initial excitement over the lights going down had dwindled nearly to a hush.

Troy struck the opening chord in the dark, and as it reverberated through the arena, the audience rose to their feet. The center spotlight burst onto him, bathing him in silvery light, and illuminated the enormous smile on his face. Gone was the boy who’d been nervous moments ago.

This man was a star.

And for the first time, it looked like he knew it.

His fingers moved deftly against the strings as he began the song that had started it all. His stripped-down version of U2’s ‘Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For,’ and as soon as the crowd recognized the song, they roared their approval.

God, the sound of it.

The way his rich voice rang through the space, rebounding off the balcony level. He crooned into the microphone, singing and playing as if it were the