Later that afternoon, my brothers and I ran through our sound check, and I hid in our dressing room until it was time to perform. Then we did our show, ignoring some random boos and name-calling, and I tried my hardest to give everything I had to the music and the audience.
After we were finished, I should have left. Gone back to our cabin and avoided Ryan the same way he’d been avoiding me.
Instead, I stood off in the wings and watched his show. Like I was some kind of glutton for punishment. Reminding myself of all the things I couldn’t have, no matter how badly I wanted them.
I knew every lyric, costume, and scenery change by heart. So when they altered it by bringing out a piano for Ryan, I couldn’t stop my hopeful reaction. Would he want us to duet again? My heart leaped with excitement.
“I know fans hate when musicians do this, but I’ve been working on a new song, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to sing it for you now.” The arena erupted into cheers, which didn’t surprise me. Ryan could have said he was going offstage to poop, and his fans would have been just as thrilled.
He started the song, and I immediately recognized the melody as the one he’d played for me at the after-party. The one he hadn’t finished the lyrics for yet.
She’s the one who’s not easy to impress
She’s the one who’s just as beautiful in jeans or in a dress
She’s the one, but she’ll never confess
And in my dreams she’s there beside me
Her head upon my chest
It’s how she dances when she thinks no one sees
It’s the way her touch knocks me down to my knees
Her laugh, her eyes, her heart, she drives me crazy
She’s my girl
She’s my Maisy
My heart beat so loud I was sure everyone around me could hear it. I leaned against a speaker for support since my legs wobbled so badly. No man had ever sung to me before, let alone written an entire song about me. It was both the most wonderful and the most terrifying thing I’d ever experienced. Terrifying because of how it made me feel.
And because of what it might make me do.
She’s the one with long hair to her hips
She’s the one comeback queen that never slips
And I’m the one moonstruck by her lips
Loving everything about her from her stare to fingertips
It’s how she dances when she thinks no one sees
It’s the way her touch knocks me down to my knees
Her laugh, her eyes, her heart, she drives me crazy
She’s my girl
She’s my Maisy
Oh she doesn’t even know
The magic she holds inside her soul
And when I hear her voice I come undone
She’s the one, she’s the one
It’s how she dances when she thinks no one sees
It’s the way her touch knocks me down to my knees
Her laugh, her eyes, her heart, she drives me crazy
She’s my girl, Maisy.
“It’s a good thing we like that dude,” Cole commented, his arms crossed. I hadn’t even realized my brothers were standing behind me.
“Yeah, otherwise bad things would be happening right now,” Parker agreed.
Bad things were happening. Because I had ceased to care beyond this moment. Without thinking, I walked out onto the stage. Ryan had already finished his song and seemed surprised when the cheers of the crowd suddenly grew even louder. He turned and saw me.
He stood and stepped away from the piano. He looked adorably unsure, as if he didn’t know what would happen next.
When I reached him, he said, “I told you I was terrible with lyrics.”
I couldn’t help myself.
I kissed him.
The shock of our lips finally touching was like being pushed into a pool of ice water. I was shaking, drowning in him. Every part of my body was heavy and slow, my breath stolen. We didn’t touch in any other way; only our mouths connected.
A few moments later, we both pulled back, like we’d just surfaced from that icy pool, both breathing heavily. Ryan seemed momentarily stunned.
Until he wasn’t.
He gathered me in his arms, making a sound at the back of his throat that was deep and heart-flutteringly masculine. I had only a second to appreciate his strength and heat until one of his hands moved to hold my face. He stared into my eyes before his lips descended. This time it was fire. His mouth devastated mine, like a wildfire blazing, destroying, eating up everything in its path. He consumed me. I could only cling to him, unable to move or breathe as he burned.
Ryan inflamed every molecule in my body as he kissed me over and over again. My limbs seemed to melt away, leaving behind nothing but ash. I felt so deliciously light that I could have floated away.
The intense, crackling heat continued, turning my brain liquid and preventing any thought but this. I want more of this.
I wanted everything he could give me and more.
I’d imagined my attraction to him would diminish once we kissed. That I had built it up so much in my mind that reality couldn’t possibly compare.
Reality was a billion times better.
My mouth opened to his, and he somehow made the fire burn hotter. The flame twisted and twined inside me, taking all that I had to offer. He wanted everything I could give him, too, and more.
His hands were everywhere—on my neck, around my waist, on my back, pushing me closer. Wanting to scorch and brand me his.
To make sure I wouldn’t forget.
It was, without question, the most amazing kiss of my entire life. As if every other kiss before this one had been a rehearsal, and now I was finally playing for a sold-out stadium. Totally, completely unforgettable. I knew that even if I lived to be 107 years old, I would never forget for one second what this felt like.
It was better than when I played music, and I didn’t know that there was anything better than that.
I would never be the same again.
The fire had a song all its own, a frantic rhythm that thudded through my veins, and I could feel the same music inside Ryan. Beating, pulsating, and dancing in the same way. We kissed with a perfect harmony, like our duet onstage together. Flowing and soul-piercing and beyond anything else I’d ever known.
At the moment I felt like I couldn’t possibly take any more, that I would combust into a thousand glittery pieces, Ryan gentled the kiss. He made the fire he had stoked retreat, slowly dousing the flames until he softly, achingly, moved his mouth away from mine.
We were trying to catch our breaths, as the flames had consumed all the oxygen, leaving us without any to breathe.
I groaned in frustration, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, not wanting him to stop. He still held me tightly.
“Hi,” he said, his voice tinged with desire that beckoned me to come closer.
“Hi,” I responded. My lungs were too constricted to allow me to say much beyond that.
“We, uh, have company.”
I turned my head in the direction he indicated. The entire arena had fallen silent. I had forgotten they were there. Where we were.
There had been only Ryan.
Then the audience exploded into applause and screams, louder than any I’d ever heard.
“Wait for me. In my dressing room.”
In that moment, Ryan could have asked me for anything and I would have said yes. I nodded.
He reluctantly released me, and I pulled my own hands free, stepping back.
“Ryan?”
I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. “That was the best thing that has ever happened to my mouth.”
He winked at me. “Told you.”
Then he went over to the microphone. “Maisy Harrison, everybody!”
I gave a half-hearted wave and hurried offstage as quickly as I could. My brothers were no longer waiting in the wings, for which I was grateful.
Fox stood outside Ryan’s dressing room. He nodded. “Maisy.”
“Hey, Fox.”
“That was some kiss.”
“What? How do you know that?” It had just happened, and Fox was backstage. How could he possibly know about it already?
“I get alerts on Ryan. Just to keep an eye out for crazies. My phone about exploded a minute ago.” He turned the screen toward me. There was a video of Ryan and me kissing. And it was almost as hot watching it as it had been experiencing it.
It bothered me that, thanks to technology, everybody would see our first kiss. But, to be fair, I was the one who had chosen to go out onstage and kiss a world-famous pop star with tens of thousands of witnesses.
“He is my boyfriend” was my weak response. I got the feeling, though, that Fox didn’t miss a thing and knew exactly what was going on.
I went into the dressing room, ignoring his smirk. Fitz was going to kill me. He’d just gotten through lecturing me about how I’d put things in jeopardy, and now I’d kissed Ryan De Luna, and the entire internet knew.
Forget Fitz. The Luna-tics would be worse. If they were throwing eggs before, what would they throw at me now? Anvils?
As the endorphins and riled-up hormones began to wear off, I had a good forty-five minutes to completely freak out. What had I just done with Ryan?
Kissed him in front of the whole world?
I walked around the room, trying to distract myself. I found a large jar that was halfway full of red gummy bears. It seemed weird, considering Ryan didn’t really eat sugar. I picked it up just as the dressing-room door opened.
Ryan.
I held the gummy-bear jar against my stomach, as if that would keep him at bay. Something in my eyes must have told him to keep his distance because he sat down on a couch, rubbing a towel over his sweaty hair.
“Why do you have a jar of red gummy bears?”
“It’s part of my rider. I ask for a single red gummy bear at every performance, and then I add it to the jar.”
I blinked. “Why?”
“Sometimes artists put extravagant things in riders because they’re divas. Sometimes it’s for comfort. And sometimes it’s to make sure the venue is reading the fine print. Because if they’re not, given a highly physical show like mine, it could cause safety issues. No red gummy bear, then we have a problem because we know they weren’t paying attention.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But do you really want to talk about riders or gummy bears right now?”
“Honestly, I don’t really want to talk at all right now.” I wanted to escape and not face the choice I had made.
“I don’t want to talk, either.” He flashed me a wolfish grin that made even my toenails blush. “But we probably should, right?”
“I still can’t believe I did that.”
“There’s video if you need proof.” He held up his phone.
“I’ve seen it.” And relived it about a thousand times, thanks.
“Are you worried about what people are saying online?”
“No. I’ll start caring about internet trolls’ opinions when I can start paying bills with them.”
“Did you not like the kiss?”
“Not like . . .” Had he not been there? “You mean besides the fact that I saw through space and time?”
Another predatory grin. “Then I’m not sure why you’re cowering over there instead of coming over here to enjoy round two.”
I wasn’t cowering! Okay, I might have been cowering a tad.
Ryan stood and began walking toward me slowly, like I was a wounded animal that would bite him if frightened. “Did you like the song?”
Like it? I’d been ready to have its babies. “No.”
He hesitated, his face falling. “No?”
“I mean, no, I didn’t just like it. It’s . . .” I trailed off, not knowing how to convey to him what it had made me feel. “I spend all my free time trying to funnel my emotions into words, and I can’t even think of anything nice enough to tell you how much I loved it.”
“That’s one of the best compliments I’ve ever received for my work.”
“All those Grammy Awards don’t count?”
“Not nearly as much.” Now he was close. He reached out and gently pried my fingers off the jar, then put it down on the table.
“I haven’t figured anything out,” I blurted before he could do anything else. “Earlier? That wasn’t a decision. It was . . . more of a reaction.”
He had a slight frown that quickly disappeared. “I can wait.”
“It’s not just that. My brothers are all convinced that something will happen between us, we’ll break up, and you’ll fire us. We really need this job. And a good-enough reputation to get future jobs.”
His hands settled on my hips. “Is that what’s got you worried? I promise I won’t fire you. No matter what. Even if I catch you cheating on me with Vince.”
I smiled at the image of me kissing our bus driver.
“I also promise not to hurt your chances of getting any other gig. I’ll put all that in writing if you want.” He urged me closer, and I didn’t resist. In part because he’d just erased one of the things I was most worried about. He’d lifted a huge burden off my shoulders, and I almost felt as light as I had earlier when we’d kissed.
He rested his forehead against mine. Our chests rose and contracted in unison, our breath mingling together. I closed my eyes, loving the feeling of standing so close to him.
“In an hour I’m going to California for the US Music Awards. Be my date for the show. Come with me.”
To California? Together? We’d only just kissed for the first time. His offer made me take a step back. I wasn’t worried about getting fired, but I was worried about my ability to resist his masculine wiles if we were alone. I wasn’t ready for that. “What? I can’t, you know, go away with you.”
“Fox, Vince, and one of the other drivers are coming, too. It’s an eighteen-hour drive, and they have to switch off.”
I walked around him, rubbing my arms. His touch still managed to make me all shivery. It was better that he wasn’t suggesting we go off alone together. But that would be a long road trip. I sat on the couch he’d recently vacated. “Flying must be terrible for you.”
He sat next to me. “I’ve tried everything. Hypnosis, sedatives, therapy, special training courses designed to help you get over your fear of flying. I just can’t.”
I nodded. It wasn’t like I had anything else planned, but this felt like a really big step. Was I ready to take that kind of risk?
“I’ll make you a bet. If I win, you come with me. If you win, you stay here and be miserable and miss me every second.” He leaned back and settled into the corner of the couch.
“What kind of bet?”
Ryan considered this. “I bet I can guess your birthday.”
Well, he had a one-in-365 chance of getting it right. My birthday was actually in two weeks, something that had slipped my mind in the chaos that had become my life. He’d never guess it. I would win, and he would leave me behind.
Was that disappointment I felt?
“Do we have a deal?” He held out his hand, offering to shake on it.
“Deal.” Tingles shot through my arm as he enveloped my hand.
Before we’d even stopped shaking, he said, “May thirtieth.”
My mouth dropped open. “How did you do that?”
“Your brothers told me.”
“That’s cheating,” I said, pushing against his shoulder while he laughed. “That doesn’t count.”
“I hedge my bets. It wasn’t cheating. Besides, you didn’t set that as a parameter at the beginning. The win is good.”
It wasn’t something I wanted to argue about. I was glad he’d won. And that he’d found a way for me to say yes that seemed less big and scary. “Then I guess I’m coming to California with you.”
He tugged on my hand and jerked me forward, surprising me. I sprawled across his chest, and his lazy grin let me know that was exactly what he’d wanted.
“What’s that saying? To the victor go the spoils?”
His hand went around the back of my neck as his gaze focused on my lips. Breathing became virtually impossible. His thumb caressed the bottom of my earlobe, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to purr like a cat. I needed him to kiss me now to end this torment.
But he didn’t move. Didn’t lean his head forward to connect us. He stayed put, like he was enjoying just watching me. My frustration and tension began to mount.
“If that’s your way of saying you’re going to kiss me, I’m okay with it.” I really was.
That first kiss had to be a fluke. Some kind of once-in-a-lifetime, stars-aligned, cosmically ordained situation. We could have only one first kiss, and nothing else could live up to all that anticipation, all that wanting and waiting.
Right?
“I like that we think so much alike. That we’re so similar.” His voice had that hazy, growly thing going on, and my stomach plummeted into my toes.
It wasn’t true. There were so many ways in which we were complete opposites. “Not quite. Did you forget you’re El Caliente and I’m the Ice Queen?”
“Sweetheart, do you know what happens when fire meets ice?”
“Water?”
He shook his head. “Steam.”
He was right. Complete, total, and utter steam.
Our first kiss had been no fluke.