Page 35 of Backstage with a Billionaire Rockstar

There’s a glint in Evan’s eyes and he smiles before cracking his fingers like this is a wrestling match. I scoff but let them carry on.

This is a side of Evan I haven’t been able to see, and it only makes what I’m feeling toward him that much more difficult to ignore. It was one thing to see the man from my past, privately thinking about him when I lay in bed at night because I know what his mouth feels like, but it’s an entire other thing to see him being a father.

This might be much harder than I thought, and the gleam in Liam’s eyes isn’t making it any easier.

As we drive back to Kenzie's, the car filled with Liam's excited chatter, I can't help but feel a bittersweet ache in my chest. Watching Evan with Liam today... it was everything I never knew I wanted.

Evan catches my eye in the rearview mirror, his smile soft and genuine. For a moment, I let myself imagine this as our new normal. Then I remember - I'm his bodyguard. He's a rockstar with a stalker. This isn't our reality. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

As much as we all wish we could stay in this bubble forever, real life beckons. With heavy hearts but renewed spirits, we say goodbye to Liam and head back to the whirlwind of the tour.

***

After finishing all the shows taking place in Illinois, we finally make it to Michigan. I’ve never understood why musician go on tour, play in a state during the first half, then go to another state close to it in the second half.

Wouldn’t it be simpler to just do them all at once, so you don’t have to go back and forth?

All of the guys, including Donny who showed up out of the blue, are chanting the band name as we ease our way through the crowd located outside a famous nightclub. This isn’t my scene, usually, but Evan insisted this is what we needed to do tonight.

Unfortunately, he also insisted that I look the part — and that was much more difficult than anything else because I hadn’t brought clothes for an outing like this. All I had was my bodyguard gear, which is exactly why I managed to sneak away in Detroit and go shopping for a new dress.

I wasn’t sure what to wear, or what would look okay since the last time I was in a club was six years ago. Judging by the look Evan gave me when I walked out of the tour bus, I’m willing to bet it was a good choice to go with the tight red dress that I’d normally never be caught dead in.

Not since being a mother, anyway.

As we approach the club, anxiety tightens my chest. "Evan," I murmur, catching his arm. "Are you sure about this? With everything going on..."

He gives me a reassuring smile, but I see a flicker of concern in his eyes. "It'll be fine. We've got security, we're in the VIP area. Plus," he adds with a wink, "I've got you watching my back."

I nod, not entirely convinced. But as we enter the club, I'm on high alert, determined to keep Evan safe, no matter what.

The bass is pounding, reminding me of that night I shared with Evan, and I stop walking for a minute. Everyone was eager to go to the club, needing to celebrate yet another sold-out show, and the only reason I’m here is because of my obligation to Evan.

It’s not because I want to see if he can dance with me the way he did back then — at least, that what I’m trying to convince myself. There’s a bouncer standing at a set of stairs that lead to the second floor of space and he nods at Brent before letting us all saunter through. The further up we get, the easier it is to realize we’re in a VIP area.

There’s a bar located along a large wall, two bartenders scurrying behind it as they pour drinks for others, and I’m surprised when not a single one does a double-take at the sight of Raising Havoc. That’s how I know they’re used to dealing with celebrities.

Until one of them comes up to the guys and stares entirely too long at Evan, which makes me clench a fist at my side.

Whatever, it’s really not my business as long as she doesn’t cause him any harm.

I’m not jealous.

I fidget uncomfortably behind the guys, darting my eyes every which way to make sure nothing is suspicious. I try tugging the bottom of my dress down. It doesn’t budge, which shouldn’t surprise me. When I went to the cashier counter to check out, the sales associate behind it guaranteed that I’d blow men away with it.

I’ve expertly styled my hair into loose waves that cascade down my back, something anyone rarely sees from me anymore, and the new pair of black heels that make my legs look longer than they actually are. Evan glances at me as he leans against the bar, waiting for the bartender to finish up their drink order, and I watch as his gaze trails over me from head to toe for the third time tonight.

I notice his jaw clench as a group of guys nearby eye me appreciatively. He steps closer, his hand hovering near the small of my back, not quite touching but clearly staking a claim. The possessive gesture sends a thrill through me, even as I remind myself of our complicated situation.

Maybe that cashier was onto something after all.

But as flattering as Evan's attention is, it's also dangerous. My job is to protect him, not fall for him.

Ever since I had Liam, I’ve been self-conscious about my body, and the attention I'm getting tonight has my cheeks flushing—for a third time. I’m about to walk over to him and stick close to his side when an unfamiliar hand wraps around my elbow.

I turn, looking into the handsome stranger's eyes, and frown at the deep brown color. They’re nothing like the green I daydream about. The stranger flashes me a grin, likely one that he uses on all the women, and runs a hand through his short strands of hair.

“Could I get you a drink?”

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