Page 54 of I Just Want to be Yours

Mya smiles, and there’s a warmness to it that makes me feel like she cares. I might have only met her an hour ago, but that one look is enough for me to know she cares about Jackson and me. “Did you go on his last tour with him?”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “And sleep in the van?” With a shake of my head, I laugh again. “No, but I went to one of his shows. Kind of like this, but also not at all like this.”

“The van! I was never in it, but I’ve seen pictures.” Shemakes a gagging face before frantically shaking her head. “I can’t believe I forgot about the van. Forget I asked.”

“Yeah. Your uncle really saved the day with that RV.”

She rolls her eyes. “He should have just gotten them a tour bus. At the rate they’re going, they’ll need one soon, and they can probably afford it.” She points to herself. “Plus, I can only sleep on a couch-bed for so long.”

I’m not sure why it hadn’t occurred to me where she sleeps before this conversation, but I don’t bother hiding my surprise. “You sleep on the couch?”

Pressing her lips together in a firm line, she gives a deliberate nod. “Yup.” She waves a hand in the air like she’s trying to get rid of her animosity. “I mean, I don’t mind. It’s worth it if it means I get to live this.”

Sleeping on an RV couch would be rough, but I think part of me envies her—just a little bit. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I watch my boyfriend on stage.

Mya’s delicate hand touches my arm. “Hey, are you okay?”

I blink. “Yeah,” I say with my best smile. “I’m sure touring with the band is a great experience.”

She huffs. “It’s certainly something. You’ll know all about it one day.”

My eyes wander back to Jackson as he takes the mic, ready to sing the one song he does vocals for. The crowd roars, and he rubs a hand over his head, looking as humble as ever. At the sight of him up there, in front of his adoring fans, something in my chest aches. It’s an ache for something I already have, but still want—like a longing for how things used to be, even though I’m currently living it.

“Yeah,” I say, my eyes never leaving Jackson. “Maybe.”

But even though Mya seems confident, I’m not so sure.

31

jackson

We finishour set with our most popular song off the new album, and the crowd goes crazy for it. The whole place pulses with a steady rhythm, and the crowd goes wild even after we stop playing. That’s one of my favorite parts of the night. That final applause before we leave the stage always sinks its teeth into me. There’s something about the roaring energy that reverberates off each and every molecule under my skin, making my entire body buzz with new energy.

Tonight, I don’t soak it up the way I usually do, though. Because as I scan the back of the room to check for Margot and Mya, all I see is a petite girl with pink hair at the table. At first, I think maybe it’s the lights. Maybe I just can’t see Margot under the glare. But the longer I look, the more my anxiety sets in. Where did she go? Why would she leave Mya?

My thoughts race as I scan the crowd, but I don’t see any sign of her. It isn’t until I turn to exit the stage with the guys, that I spot the gorgeous redhead standing on the side of the stage, waiting for me. Everything in me relaxes at the sight of her. She tilts her head against one of the rafters with a smile that makes me feel better than any applause.

Holding the neck of my guitar in one hand, I wrap my free arm around Margot’s shoulders to pull her to me and kiss the side of her head. “Why didn’t you stay with Mya?”

She looks up at me, wrapping her arm around my waist. “And miss out on having the best seat in the house?” She shakes her head. “Once things calmed down, she said she didn’t need my help anymore, so I came to enjoy the view.”

I let out a huff. “The view.”

Margot points over her shoulder toward the merch table. “Do you want me to tell you how many Jackson photos we sold tonight?”

I grimace. “Please don’t.”

Those photos are probably my least favorite thing Mya has come up with, but I can’t say anything because she sells them like candy. Thinking about all the people who have that random ass picture of me somewhere with my chicken scratch signature near my head feels equal parts awesome and fucking weird.

“Did you have fun?” I ask to change the subject.

She smiles up at me, and it packs a bigger punch than I expected. I knew having her here would feel incredible. But now that it’s happening, it’s so much better than I thought it would be. And the fact that she’s only here for a short time feels like a bucket of ice water hanging in the balance. I know it will crash into me and wake me up in a matter of hours, but I wish this could never end. I wishthiswere my reality when I walked off stage every night.

“Of course! You’re right, Mya is awesome.”

I’m grateful Mya was on her best behavior. The last thing I need is for her to scare Margot away with one of her games of Twenty Questions or telling her howlovesickI am while she’s away. “She’s something.”

“I’m going to head back that way. She might get a rush of people now that your set is done. Meet me by the table?”

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