band in, we’d begin. I kept my eye on Dec in case he had another idea.
He pivoted to face me, flashing a megawatt grin. And I flubbed the fucking beat. No joke. I found my place immediately, and I doubted anyone noticed. Other than Dec. He definitely noticed. His already impossibly wide smile grew to epic proportions. Damn, he was beautiful.
Focus, Monroe. I stopped suddenly, hit the sticks a few times. “One, two…”
And so it began.
My job was to enhance the rhythm. I was aware of lyrics, chords, and the notes that pulled everything together, but I’d become a master at tuning out the scenery so I could concentrate on timing. I rarely listened to Justin sing during a show. His performance was layered on top of mine. If I fucked up, he might not remember the words.
But tonight, I heard every word Dec sang. I heard every intonation…the swell of longing and heartbreaking surrender.
“Don’t want to lose, don’t want to lose this magic.”
The guitar screamed a wicked crescendo as the haunting melody faded. I slowed the beat. Tap…tap, tap. Tap…tap, tap.
“Don’t wanna lose,” Dec sang into the mic.
Silence filled the room for exactly one nanosecond before the fans went wild. I stood automatically as Jealousy took a bow. Dec held his guitar in his left hand, waved to the crowd, and headed offstage behind Gill and Bobby J. He paused to give me a high five I mistook for a fist bump. We both grinned, the crowd laughed…then cheered when we hugged instead.
It was a cool moment, but it wasn’t very boyfriend-y. It was over too quick and probably looked like a bro gesture. I had two seconds to finesse it into something…mysterious per Charlie’s instructions. So I cupped his neck and crashed my mouth over his.
Oops.
Declan
Tegan’s demanding kiss wreaked havoc on my adrenaline-ravaged system. My first instinct was to sink into the connection, pull him against me, and stick my tongue down his throat. The roar of the crowd stopped me. I splayed my hand over his chest and flashed a crooked grin at the audience, as if I were somehow letting them in on the moment. If they paid any attention to Tegan’s wide-eyed “oh fuck” stare, they’d be more confused than anything.
“Holy crap,” Bobby J whispered as he tugged me offstage.
There was no time to respond or look backward. We were met with applause and high fives by the event staff and curious glances by Zero just as they took over.
“For the record, that wasn’t supposed to happen. I told him to play it cool. Total fail.” Charlie threw his hands in the air and paced in front of me as I pulled my sweaty tee over my head and searched for a clean one. “On the bright side, you’ve officially kick-started our promo machine. Congrats. They’ll be talking about this show tomorrow for sure.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
Charlie put his hands on his hips and bit his bottom lip. “I think so. But we need to control the contact better. I had no idea Tegan would fucking maul you onstage. Ugh. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” I asked, uncapping a water bottle and gunning half the contents.
“I sprang it on him at the last second. Clearly he needs a script, or Operation Boyfriend is going to be a bust before we reach Denver. No worries. By the way, fabulous show. If I didn’t tell you so earlier, you’re going to be a fucking star.” Charlie blew me a kiss and sashayed away.
Okay, this was surreal. Jealousy’s first concert was easily one of the most exhilarating, life-affirming, and cathartic forty-five minutes of my life. And that kiss was…hmm. I didn’t know what to think about it. I didn’t want to overanalyze and ruin the moment, so I drank a fuckton of water, a little bit of Jack, and soaked in the magic while Zero sent the masses into a frenzy.
I watched the show from the side with my bandmates until my bladder demanded attention. The backstage bathroom was occupied. Of course. One of the event staff pointed out the public restrooms nearby.
“They should be empty now,” she said with an awestruck smile. “By the way, you were so good. Like my skin is tingling. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
I skirted the perimeter of the club, slapping a few high fives on my way and nodding in acknowledgment when a few people recognized me. Fuck, yes! I could get used to the rock-god life.
“Declan.”
Screech. Halt. Bang. And