Quinn winks.“And the power is mine now.”
And that’s when I realize.
I may have made a mistake.
Anna giggles and tackles me onto the bed.
The last thing the OG Dirty B’s see before the call cuts is mecacklingwhile Anna puts me in a headlock—then makes me pay in all thebestways.
* * *
Two days later, we’re at the venue, and I’m feelingextrareckless.
I have been trying to get Anna on stage forweeks.
I have literally triedeverything.
Bribery.Teasing.Sexual favors.(Those were my favorite, by the way.)
Nothing has worked, though, and we’re running out of time.
Seriously, I’ve pulledevery trickin the book.
I tried the old“just test the mic for me, Ace.”She walked away.
I suggested a “casual backstage duet.”Shelaughed in my face.
I even hit her with the“but what if the band gets food poisoning, Ace?What then?”She told me to learn piano.
But tonight?
Tonight I have one last move.
One last shot to get her on this stage.
And I’m about to play dirty.
This is the Hail Mary of “get my girlfriend to stopcowarding outof her own fucking talent.”
And yeah, I said cowarding out.I love this woman, but she’s adamn stubborn menace.
I tighten the tuning peg on my guitar, casting a glance at the side-stage.Anna’s there, arms crossed,watching me.She thinks I don’t notice, but I do.I always do.
And the best part?
I see it.
Thewant.
Thealmost.
She’s so damn close.
I step up to the mic.The crowd is electric tonight, the buzz in the air thick enough to feel in my veins.
She’s gonna kill me, but here goes.
“This next song,” I say, voice rough from hours of singing, “means a lot to me.It’s the song that changed everything.It’s been a while since I sang it, though.And—” I pause, my lips twitching as I find Anna side-stage.Arms crossed.Brow raised.Fully aware ofexactlywhere this is going.