Give Me Love (38 page)

The relief had me giddy, but it wouldn’t stop the worry until I could see the damage for myself. “Did Mac show you the message? What about Jimmy?”

Coby shook his head in frustration and my heart sank.

“Foiled again? Who does this guy think he is? I can’t believe it! How does this happen?”

The man must have made an alliance with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and was hiding out somewhere in the sewers, popping up just long enough to send me his sinister little messages or take pot shots at us.

I didn’t wait for an answer from Coby because I was too pissed off to be patient and also because I didn’t really think he could provide one. Instead, I got my phone back off Mac and sent Jared a message.

E: What, still applying for Wolverine status?

To my relief, the reply was immediate.

J: Anything is worth keeping you safe.

Not anything.
It’s not worth your life Jared
, I thought to myself. I typed out a reply.

E: Are you okay?

J: Be better when you’re home.

E: Come to our Sydney show?

J: Wild horses, baby.

His words released the tension that had held my body tight and left me thinking that maybe things between us might actually be okay.

* * *

We kicked off the tour, and it was the busiest and most exhausting time of my entire life. Between sound checks, performing, promotional interviews, after parties, and catching sleep wherever possible, I’d realised it was a blessing in disguise. The attachment I’d formed to Jared was more powerful than I could have imagined, and the whirlwind of the tour left me with no time to wallow.

We still managed to do what we did best, which was message each other every day. On our trip to the city of Brisbane, Mac snapped a photo on my phone of Henry and I on stage, the crowd cheering behind us, and I messaged it to Jared.

E: The tough life of a rockstar.

J: You look hot, babe. Next time send video so I can hear your voice.

Two days later, I got a photo of Jared and Peter sitting on his couch at the loft, white stuffing suspiciously hanging out the side of Peter’s mouth.

J: Good news is that Peter is now hanging with me. Bad news is I need to go shopping for new couch cushions.

I laughed, feeling light and happy, and set the photo as the background on my phone.

A week later, we hit Melbourne’s Etihad Stadium for a record crowd capacity of over fifty-eight thousand people. This was our home city before moving to Sydney, so we had plenty of supporters and fans backing us for the two shows we performed there.

Uploaded onto YouTube was a video of one of our songs played at Melbourne’s Etihad, so I messaged Jared the link to it.

E: Here’s your video.

Ten minutes later.

J: How did you know that song is my favourite?

I knew because I’d seen his eyes darken intently when I’d played it the night we’d had our scout.

Four days later, we landed back in Sydney and went straight into sound check, then directly to our dressing room, where it took an hour to get my Rockstar Goddess face on because my hands shook with the thought of seeing Jared that night.

By the time I’d slipped on the outfit I’d first worn at the Florence Bar, courtesy of Mac, he hadn't arrived. By the time I hit the stage, he still wasn't there. Eventually, I gave up craning my neck towards the right side of the stage because it was likely the audience would start thinking I was having a stroke. Just as I drew in a deep breath to begin crooning our final song of the night, I succumbed, peeked over, and there he stood. He was watching me with a faint smile on his face, arms folded as he leaned casually against the panelled wall.

I missed my cue and if you saw how good he looked and knew the instant feeling of being complete after two weeks of feeling slightly disconnected from reality, you wouldn’t blame me. I twirled my finger at the band to indicate they should keep up an instrumental until I found my place.

Henry meandered close as he plucked at his guitar, and I held the microphone down and threw an apology his way as he glanced at me questioningly. I nodded towards the side of the stage, and Henry followed my gaze. Understanding and relief filled his face, and he stepped back, fingers still moving like lightening up and down the strings without missing a beat.

Not missing my cue a second time, I crooned out our final song. When the final note rang out, security detail flipped out when I jammed the microphone back in the stand and jumped off the front of the stage. I stood in the gated area that had formed a barrier between us and the masses, and the crowd squealed when I reached out for hands, chatted to locals, and got my photo taken numerous times. The band followed suit, and our posse of security did not look pleased. Soon after, a strong muscled pair of arms encircled me from behind, lifted me up to the cheers of the crowd, and walked me over to the back area of the stage.

I was set down gently but still in their grasp, so I twisted around, and if possible, Jared’s arms circled me tighter when my eyes hit his. The connection in that moment was immediate, and I knew, after all this time, I finally
knew
there was no more avoiding and no more lying to myself or anyone else. I really did love this man, belonged to him like no other, and no matter what that meant for my future, whatever we had in the now would remain with me all of my life.

“Evie,” he whispered and tucked that rogue curl behind my ear in a gesture so familiar, so loving, tears pricked my eyes.

I palmed his cheek, brushing my thumb softly across his bottom lip.

“Jared,” I whispered in return, my lips now mere inches from his own.

He closed the gap and his lips pressed against mine, soft and hesitant at first. I gripped both sides of his head and mashed my lips hard against his, wanting to get closer because it wasn’t enough. He groaned at my impatience, and his mouth opened under the pressure, our tongues swirling together until completely immersed in his touch, I forgot where I was.

When he pulled away I would have stumbled had I not been held so tightly in his arms. “Sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”

“You’re here now.”

His brow furrowed. “I know...but I can’t stay. We’re in the middle of an investigation, and Casey is going overseas in a couple of days for four months.” His hand caressed my hair gently. “I’ll meet you back at the after party, okay?”

I nodded and he made to leave. “Wait!” I grabbed his arm as he started to turn. I didn’t know what I wanted to say, only that I wasn’t ready for him to leave, so I stood mutely for a moment. “Do you ah…know where the after party is?”

He took hold of my hand. “Florence Bar Mac said. That right?”

I nodded and he let go of my hand and turned to leave again.

“Um…”

He stopped, waiting patiently, not for something intelligent I hoped, while I tried to think of something else to say.

Jared looked faintly amused as he stood patiently. “Baby, you okay?”

Realising I was being silly, I informed him I was fine, planted a swift kiss on his cheek, and shooed him off with a quick wave.

The corners of his mouth tilted upwards, and he tapped a finger to my nose. “See you, Evie.”

He turned and I watched him leave until his tall form disappeared from view, happily unaware that the next forty-eight hours would be the most critical of my entire life. If I had known in that one moment that the next time I saw Jared he’d be looking at me as though I’d crawled out from under a rock, that he would be telling me he wished he’d never met me with the burn of regret in his eyes, I wouldn’t have let him go.

* * *

Later that night, I sat in a booth at the bar wondering when Jared would arrive and decided to send him a message.

E: I miss you.

I didn’t get a response, and immediately wished there was some way I could retract it. Was it too much? Putting myself out there wasn’t easy, especially considering my past mistakes, and my stomach rolled with uncertainty.

I tucked my phone back in my bag and turned to watch Mac flirt with the bar manager, Jack, at a nearby table. I grinned at his dazed appearance. I hoped something came of it because I could see myself having fun with that―Jack and Mac. Their celebrity name would be McJack. I got my phone back out and sent a message to Mac, watching her fight a grin as she flicked open the text and read it.

E: You two would be McJack.

I watched her type out a response, and my phone buzzed a few seconds later.

M: You do realise you’re sitting by yourself don’t you, Nigel?

E: Nigel? Original much? You two together sound like a drive through burger.

I chuckled to myself and saw Mac give out an embarrassing snort of laughter when she read my reply. My phone buzzed again, and I was surprised because I didn’t see her text a response. My heart quickened when I saw Jared’s name.

J: Miss you too. Be there in an hour.

The uncertainty disappeared, replaced with butterflies at the knowledge I would see him soon, and I felt a brilliant smile light my face. I took a sip of my metro just as Ethan slammed down a tray full of shots on the table.

“What’s with the sexy hot grin, sweetheart, and why are you all on your lonesome?”

“Nothing,” I replied and waved at the empty booth seat. “And no one wants to sit with me because I’m lame and boring.”

“Rubbish. Everyone loves you. You must be giving
fuck off
vibes.”

I raised a lofty brow. “If I am, they don’t seem to be working on you.”

“That’s because no one ever tells me to fuck off, sweetheart, so I wouldn’t know that particular vibe if it came up and bit me on the ass.” He grabbed two shots off the tray, handed one over to me, and held one for himself. “Now have a shot because these are for the two of us. We singers have to stick together because no one knows how tough we really have it.”

“We have it tough?”

“Of course. We’re stuck up the front. We have the microphone. The pressure is on us to make friends with the crowd, get them on our side, make them want to hear more. Now suck it back,” he ordered.

I shrugged and did just that, my eyes watering like I’d chomped down on a green chilli. He watched me drink it down with a grin before he did his own.

“Not trying to kill me off, are you?” I wheezed out and thumped my chest as though that would somehow alleviate the burn. “One more show left to do first.”

He handed over another shot, and I attempted to delay its burning descent by making conversation. “What’s the go with Matt? I haven’t seen him hook up with anyone during this tour of Oz, and there are so many gorgeous girls at these after parties.”

We both looked over to Matt who was near the bar, chatting animatedly to Jake as he waved his drink around.

Ethan gave me a funny look, sitting his shot back down before drinking it. “He’s into guys, Evie. You knew that, didn’t you?”

“I…what?”

“Gay, Evie. Matt’s gay.” He spelled it out as though I was five years old.

My mouth flew open and I gripped the table in shock. “Oh.” How did I not know this? I peeled my fingers away in order to suck back another shot.

“I thought you knew this. You two are friends, aren’t you? Yo, Matt!” Ethan hollered.

Matt glanced up and caught Ethan’s nod to join us.

“What are you doing, Ethan?” My eyes darted nervously around the room as I felt the urge to flee.

“Clearing the air.”

Matt reached our table and picked up a shot. “Shots, huh?” He sucked it back before slamming the glass back on the table with a slight hiss.

“So, Mattie,” Ethan drawled out. “Our Evie didn’t realise you were batting for the boys.”

I practically clenched my butt cheeks in embarrassment. I quickly picked up another shot off the tray and sucked it back.

Matt flushed a little and scratched at the back of his neck, a habit I noticed he did when nervous. “Well, I’m not really out to the whole world.” He shrugged at me as though in apology.

“Well I don’t go announcing 'Hey, I’m Evie and I like guys,' so there’s no expectation for me to think you should. I was just surprised that’s all because…well…”

Matt gave me a curious look. “Because why?”

He tossed back another shot as I answered him. “Well, because I’ve seen a lot of publicity of you with other girls.”

“Yeah that,” Ethan muttered. “That’s our publicity department for you. Making things never really seem quite what they are because they think we might lose sales. It’s fucked up bullshit.”

The puzzle pieces clicked into place and nodding, I stood up to visit the bathroom. “Whoa,” I mumbled as I wobbled. I grabbed for the table and Matt grabbed for my arm to hold me steady. “Those shots crept up on me, I think.”