Page 63 of Take What You Want

Nikolai left almost an hour ago. He came to my room and called through the closed door to make sure I didn’t want to catch a ride with him, but I sent him on his way.

It wouldn’t look good if we showed up together when his new song isn’t the only new thing he’s debuting tonight.

Bitterness coats my tongue at the thought of him being in a relationship with Kerra, even if it is purely for PR. Part of me wants to shuck off the dress and climb into bed, blissfully ignoring the performance I’m in for tonight.

But he deserves to have someone there supporting him, and it’s the least I can do with him letting me stay here and getting me connected with Arun.

I check my purse to make sure I have everything I need and make my way downstairs. Grabbing a set of keys off a hook, I head to the garage, prepared to drive one of Nikolai’s cars. But when I step into the room, the driver that accompanied Nikolai at the airport stands waiting.

“Hendrik, right?”

The large man nods once. “Miss Walker.”

“You can call me Jane, please.”

“Jane,” he repeats softly. “I’ll take you to the show.”

I wave him off. “I don’t mind driving myself.”

“I insist.”

“You insist, or Nikolai does?”

Hendrik’s mouth smooths into a thin line and I toss the keys on a workbench. I’m not going to argue with him. Back home, I don’t even own a car, so my driving skills are rusty at best.

It’s a quiet ride as we weave our way through the heavy traffic of downtown LA.

We pull up outside the venue. It’s an old restaurant that was converted into a club years ago. People mill around outside, all being blocked from entering by a large security team.

Details about the show were on a need-to-know basis and the invite list was strict, but clearly, that didn’t stop some die-hard fans from figuring out where it was taking place. As Hendrik pulls up around the side of the building, I spot multiple fans in Whisper Me Nothings T-shirts and it sends a pang of sorrow through me.

After being verified by security and assured by Hendrik that he’d be waiting to take me home after the show, I slip inside. The room is bathed in the glow of neon lights shining from above and various signs on the wall. Splashes of pinks, purple, and blue are imbued in the decor, giving it a pop-style vibe.

Perfect for the new style of music Nikolai is transitioning into.

A small stage sits at the end of the room with a small crowd already gathered in front. However, most people are milling about, talking, drinking, and taking pictures.

No one seems to be paying me much attention, but I still can’t help but feel like everyone’s eyes are on me, picking me apart. Being surrounded by so many young, thin, beautiful women brings familiar insecurities crawling up my throat. It’s the middle of July, so there’s no valid reason for me to bring a jacket everywhere with me, but I suddenly long for it.

A server passes with a tray of colorful cocktails, and I snatch one off, needing something to hold and do with my hands. The drink is sweet, and I have to resist throwing back the entire thing.

By the time the lights dim and people filter toward the stage, I’m almost done with my second glass, and a nice buzz hums in my veins. Just enough to quiet the voices in my head.

A warm hand grabs my arm, and I spin, surprised to see Arun.

He leans in and says, “We have a spot off to the side of the stage.”

I nod and follow him to a small, roped off section with a few people I recognize from his team, as well as some other artists he works with as well. We exchange smiles and small nods, but that’s it for the pleasantries as an opening DJ takes the stage.

It’s a quick set but it does the trick to get the crowd loosened up a bit and to make the introductions for Nikolai and Kerra.

Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I see his golden head of hair step onstage. I’m nervous for him and I’ve been trying to hide that from him the past few days. He’s been anxious enough on his own and I haven’t wanted to add to that, but I’m also scared for him.

I just want this to go well for him.

But as soon as he looks out toward the crowd with that familiar confidence he wears onstage and glint in his blue eyes that match the color of his shirt, I know I have nothing to worry about.

He grabs one of the mics in his large hand and scans the room, smiling as he does so. “Everyone ready to hear some new music?”

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