Page 12 of Verses Of Us

The lushness of her mouth was intoxicating, and he wanted to ravage it, but a small voice told him to take it easy. Besides, he assumed she’d pull away, repulsed, and this would end up on the BBC, yet another barb at the megastar.

But again, she surprised him. Her hands moved up to his neck, her arms tightened their embrace. She also wanted more, and as her tongue crept across the seam of their lips, he simultaneously thought he’d won the lottery and gone insane.

Her kiss wasn’t hesitant or tense, but insistent and needy. It pushed at his restraint. He’d gotten what he wished and yet a strange fear clawed from the depths of his stomach.

The crowd cheered, snapping him back to the present. He pulled away to sing; the words returning to him as he knew they would, but he wasn’t quite ready to let her go. He brought her small hand to his lips, letting himself drown in her sweetness.

She staggered off the stage, into the awaiting security guard’s arms, and the now frenzied crowd swallowed her up.

When Ciarán grew jealous of her red-headed friend, and how she clutched onto her like friends do, he knew he had a problem.

And he’d need to solve it, soon.

BACKSTAGE PASS

Alexis

Themusicgotlouderand more energetic as Ciarán ended the concert with his biggest hits. But despite the pit of bodies jumping around her, Alexis found it impossible to ignore her melancholy. Painfully so.

He’d dated so many attractive people, obviously an inexperienced teenage girl like her wasn’t enough to fulfil his superstar needs. The more Alexis thought about it, the more the truth made her heart sink.

After all the years invested in him, into learning everything there was to know about him, was she truly surprised this had happened? Had she expected more and let her best friend’s optimism fool her?

Her breath quickened as she faced the likelihood that to Ciarán she was nothing but a fan. One of many. One ofmillions. And he, well, he was an international celebrity.

On what planet did she stand a chance?

Reality hit hard, and it hurt like a bitch.

The crowd burst into whistling and applause, sharply ripping Alexis from her thoughts. The band and Ciarán held hands, lining up for their final bow. They tossed things into the audience—guitar pics, drumsticks, Ciarán even threw his towel. The surrounding fans fought each other for a piece, but Alexis remained fixated on Ciarán as he walked offstage.

All she could do to keep herself from falling over in the sea of shoving fans was lean against Julie, who kept screaming “Oh my God, he kissed you!” in her ear. But Alexis wasn’t listening. The part of her heart that wasn’t already obliterated broke a little more.

Roadies dismantled the instruments and gear. The certainty that this would be the last time she would be this close to Ciarán sank in. And there was nothing she could do to change that. The desperation in her chest struck like a sucker-punch.

But then a flash of black caught her eye. Bumping into someone on his way out, Ciarán ran back, much to the amusement of the few lingering fans, and crouched down to speak into the ear of the bodyguard. The man’s blond, sweaty brow rose with his nods. With a wink at her, Ciarán ran offstage once more.

The guard stepped forward. “He wants you to come backstage.”

“He does?”

This wasn’t a hallucination. Julie’s fingers digging into her arm told Alexis she’d heard the request, too. She glanced over the guard’s shoulder and saw Ciarán standing in the wings, wearing a smile that said she’d agreed to something without saying a word.

The guard pointed a sausage-like finger toward the side of the stage. “Someone will let you in.” With a step back, he crossed his arms, and settled once more into his stiff robot-stance.

Julie’s eyes widened as much as her mouth. “Did. He. Invite. You. BACKSTAGE?”

Her stomach dropped, her legs weakened, and Alexis struggled to hold herself upright. She glanced around. The crowd had thinned out and the house lights were on, revealing a massive amount of empty plastic cups, handmade posters, and confetti.

“Come on!” Julie tugged on her arm and walked toward the right side of the auditorium.

Heavy-footed, Alexis followed. They reached a curtained-off area and Anthony’s piercing glare greeted them; his wide forehead creased. Alexis didn’t know what might happen, or what she had agreed to, but luckily for her, her friend took charge, her confidence a welcomed companion.

“We’re here to see Ciarán,” Julie said.

“There’s nowe. He asked for her,” Anthony replied, and pointed to Alexis. “You, however…”

Insulted, Julie sneered, but Alexis took her hand. “I’m not going anywhere without her.”

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