Swirling silver beading against lush black fabric — like wearing a star plucked straight from the night sky.
With smoky eyeshadow and a bold red lip, I see a stranger gazing back at me in the mirror. Ahotstranger, but a stranger nonetheless. Aiden and Linc both whistled wolfishly when they saw me walk out of my private dressing room into our suite, but I ignored them as my eyes cut straight to Ryder. I’m not sure what reaction I was expecting from him, but it was more than the one he gave.
Which is to say, no reaction at all.
His face was devoid of all emotion as his eyes scanned me top to toe. He gave a sharp nod and said: “It’s nearly time to go on. We should find Francesca.”
Picking my heart up from the floor where it lay, I trailed down the hall after the boys, stepping over electrical cords and squeezing past equipment, dodging crew members yammering into headsets and roadies hustling to get the stage in final order. As I walked through the fray, I found myself wishing I’d let Carly stay by my side, instead of insisting she find a prime spot in the VIP section to watch the show.
The crowd’s yells rise another few decibels, tugging me back to the present.
Everyone is waiting on you, Felicity.
Who areyouwaiting on?
There are two talented musicians, suspended in shadowed animation onstage. There’s an auburn-haired manager signaling frantically, her face illuminated in the dull glow of her cellphone. There are four looming security personnel, ever-watchful on the perimeter. There’s a roadie by my elbow, barking incomprehensible orders in my ear. There are ninety-thousand people in plastic seats, cheering for me to step out on that stage and deliver the performance of a lifetime.
All these people, a world’s worth of souls, tugging at me… and I don’t give a damn about a single one of them. Not what they want, not what they think. Not their impatience or their expectations. In this instant, the only thing that matters is the man standing by my side in the dark. The man who, if recent interactions are to be believed, is the only person in this mammoth arena whodoesn’tgive a damn what I do next.
Two weeks of blank stares. Two weeks of clenched jaws. Two weeks of treating me more like a stranger than his singing partner. Each detached interaction has sliced a little deeper, carving at my soul and cutting at my heart until, finally, I find myself here, on the precipice of the biggest moment of my life, bleeding out.
I turn to him, half-blind in the dark. Somehow, my eyes locate his in less than a heartbeat.
I could find him in the densest shadow; see him even in a star-less night.
“Ryder.”
Is that my voice, so hollow and broken?
“I’m here.”
He sounds just as he has for weeks: as though that spark behind his eyes has burned out. As if he’s holding back his fire from me — not to keep me from burning, but to freeze me out completely.
“You’re not, though,” I whisper, unable to keep the words inside another moment. “You’re not here. You’re somewhere else, lately, and—”
“This isn’t really the moment, Felicity,” he says cooly.
“This isexactlythe moment,” I retort, breathing hard.
“There are ninety-thousand people waiting on us.”
“Let them wait!” My voice cracks like a lightning strike. “They came here to see Wildwood. Guess what? I can’t be Wildwood right now — not with you acting like this.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“Like… like I’m some kind of pariah you can’t stand to look at or talk to, let alone perform love songs with!”
He scoffs. “You really want to do this now?”
“Yes,” I snap. “Because I can’t step foot on that stage without knowing why.”
“Whywhat,Felicity?”
“Why you’ve been ignoring me, and shutting me out, and… and…” I suck in a breath. “Ryder — you’ve been so cold to me. So cold I can hardly breathe around you, let alone sing, and…”
His laugh is humorless. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
My face drains of blood. “No, I am notfudgingkidding you.”