Page 44 of Forbidden Lyrics

As soon as the cool night air kisses my cheeks, I ask, “How’d you get back so soon?”

“I caught Fender as he was walking into the place. Then I saw you on stage, and…”

“Figured I needed saving?” I offer, still reeling from the entire ordeal.

He laughs. “You were incredible, Dove.”

“Bull crap. I was terrified,” I correct him. “But thank you for joining me up there. Seriously. I was seconds from dying of embarrassment. You saved me.”

“I dunno about that,” he hedges, squeezing the back of his neck.

“I do. Especially when I know what kind of sacrifice that was for you.”

Embarrassed, he scratches at the scruff of his jaw. “It’s not a big deal, Dove.”

I shake my head. “Again, I call bull crap. I know how much you wanted to stay out of the spotlight, but you stepped into it for me. So, thank you.”

He sucks his lower lip into his mouth and looks down at me with hooded eyes. “You’re welcome, Dovey.”

We’re only friends, I remind myself, tearing my gaze away from his before tilting my head up at the dark night sky. “So, do you think we pulled it off? Did you see the music guy?”

Another chuckle escapes him. “When I was on stage, I saw the rep, but I couldn’t read his face. I don’t know what he was thinking or if we pulled it off.”

“When will we know?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “If he reaches out to us.”

“Do you have a manager?”

“We did, but we got rid of him a few months ago. I’ve been juggling the manager hat ever since, and as you can see, I dropped the ball this time. After everything happened with Reese and Riv, I spaced on the date that he was coming.”

“And what happens if you don’t get it? If he doesn’t reach out?”

“We miss a pretty big opportunity. There’s a tour for Organized Chaos coming up. The original opening band had to bail, and they’re looking for a new one to take its place. They wanted to see how the band performed live, but I have no idea how it went in there.”

“The crowd seemed to like it.”

“They were mesmerized with you,” he notes, that same dark gaze taunting the butterflies in my stomach.

I bite my lip before correcting him, “They were mesmerized with you. Before you got up there, I was a squeaky mess.”

“Trust me. You weren’t. You did amazing. And if we land this tour, it’ll be because of you.”

He inches closer, but I keep my feet firmly planted in place. Even though my fight or flight instinct is hitting me at full force, I refuse to let him see what he does to me. His presence. His voice. His eyes. If I don’t learn to control myself around him, I’ll be like every other girl he’s ever met. And I don’t want to be like the rest of them. I want to be me.

Dove Walker.

The girl he gets on stage for.

Then again, we’re friends.

But friends don’t stand this close.

Or at least mine never have. I’ve never been friends with a guy, though, so what do I know?

The heat from his body warms mine from head to toe, and I lift my chin to look up at him. He’s so damn handsome and so far out of my league it isn’t even funny. My fingers itch to touch the divot etched into his chin, but I restrain myself, fisting them at my sides despite dying to know what it feels like. What he feels like.

Licking my lips, I silently beg him to put me out of my misery. To let me taste him the way I’ve dreamt of doing for months. Even though he’s made his intentions clear. Even though he’s told me we’re nothing more than friends. Even though he’s never made a move, no matter how obvious I’ve been in regards to my feelings. I want him. Plain and simple. And I’m not sure I’ll survive if he doesn’t show me that he wants the same thing.

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