Page 133 of Take What You Want

All lights in the studio dim except for the ones on us.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the host says, “Nikolai Brooks and Kerra.”

The audience claps as the cameras pan to us. The opening notes of the song ring out and the metronome from my in-ears count me in.

My verse goes smoothly and I move around the small space, trying to make the most of it and also keeping a bit of distance from Kerra. But wherever I go, she follows.

As the song progresses, she advances on me, trying to pull me closer. I let her, but keep my hands to myself and try to dodge hers when I can. I angle my head so none of the cameras can catch the look I give her.

Back off.

She’s more handsy, more bold, than she’s ever been. We play into each other while we’re onstage, but as one of her hands trails down the front of my chest, sneaking beneath the fabric of the open buttons, I grab her hand. I squeeze it in warning while maintaining my composure as we sing the bridge.

Her dark eyes narrow on me, like she’s trying to scold me, but she doesn’t attempt to move our hands lower. I turn, trying to play toward the camera as the song winds down. Thank God. I want off this stage right now.

We sing out the final verse and I close my eyes, letting myself feel every wave of the notes when suddenly, Kerra’s lips are against mine.

I rear back, not thinking to disguise my reaction. “What the fuck?” I sputter, away from the microphone so at least it isn’t broadcasted but anyone will be able to read my lips. I don’t even care.

Kerra has the audacity to look surprised by my reaction and the host sends us to commercial break as applause breaks out. I don’t smile for the cameras or wave to the audience as I storm backstage. She’s hot on my heels the entire way to the green room.

She flings the door shut behind us, and I whirl around on her. “Why did you do that?”

“Do you expect people to believe in our relationship if you never kiss me?”

“I don’t fucking care if they do or not!” I throw my arms out. “We talked about that. I told you no kissing.”

“If you want out of this, just fucking say it.” She seethes. “I’m tired of doing all the heavy lifting.”

Thank God. “I want out.”

Her eyes widen. She can’t act surprised when she literally just put the offer out on the table.

“Did you expect me to fight for this?” I ask. “I don’t want to. I haven’t wanted to since the beginning and I’m sorry I ever agreed to it in the first place. It was a mistake.”

Kerra takes a moment to process my words before regaining her composure. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

She crosses her arms nonchalantly but I don’t like the look on her face. There’s a glint in her eye that seems to mask something deeper. Anger. Resentment. “You want out, then you’re out. This is done.”

There’s no way it’s that easy. Not after she fought so hard to maintain this. Not when she’s been so insistent on this helping boost her image, which it has.

“What aren’t you saying right now?”

Kerra brushes past me, knocking my shoulder.

“There’s nothing left to say,” she throws over her shoulder. “Just remember, you were the one who wanted this.”

Her words send a fresh wave of nausea through my stomach. She leaves and slams the door shut behind her. I expected her to yell. To fight. To remind me that I signed a contract and that there are expectations I need to uphold.

I didn’t expect her to accept it so easily.

Or to fucking kiss me.

God, Jane.

The thought of her tuning in tonight, excited to watch me perform, and then seeingthat.

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