Page 93 of Rockstar Next Door Neighbor

I step closer, lowering my voice. “Yeah?”

She nods, looking up at me like she’s still caught in the spell of the show. “You were incredible, Luke.”

I should say something. Should playit cool.

But I don’t.

Instead, I reach out, brushing my lips against hers, sharing this heady moment with her. “Incredible, huh?”

Later, we’re gathered in the private lounge of the hotel we’re staying at—a sleek, dimly lit space reserved just for us. The band is still riding the post-show high, beers in hand, laughter echoing through the room.

The hotel has been good to us, giving us a top-floor suite with panoramic views of the city. Everything about this place screams luxury, from the custom drinks menu to the private security ensuring no crazed fans break in.

But even with all of that, we still have to hide.

There are reporters camped outside the hotel, fans lurking around the lobby, and people who would kill for a photo, a quote, or a sliver of gossip to spin into something bigger than it is. Especially now with what happened with Marcus, Crystal, and Sterling Motors.

I get the feeling that this—is the calm before the inevitable storm.

Vince has already picked up some girls, draping an arm around each of them as he escorts them to our table. They look starstruck. Meanwhile, the rest of the band is having fun.

I glance over at Lila, who’s perched on the armrest of my chair, sipping a cocktail and watching the band with quiet amusement.

She’s seeing it now—the real Wild Band. The way we celebrate, the way we wind down, the way we live this life.

And she hasn’t bolted yet.

That has to mean something.

I reach for her hand, lacing our fingers together.

She glances down, then back up at me, her expression softening.

“You good?” I ask.

She nods, squeezing my fingers lightly. “Yeah. Just... taking it all in.”

I lean in, my voice just for her. “You still sure you want to be part of all this?”

Her lips curve, and without hesitation, shesays, “Yes.”

Something inside me settles.

Emily drops into the seat beside Lila. “So, I see you’re still here after the show. That’s a good sign.” She glances over at me, then back to Lila. “You being here sure puts Luke in a good mood.”

“Luke’s always in a good mood,” Vince chimes in, grumbling, “It’s annoying, really.”

Sam looks over at Lila. “You weren’t bored?”

She laughs. “Bored? I’ve never seen anything like it. The way you guys lose yourself in the music... it was amazing.”

I lean back in my chair, watching them all interact. The easy banter and genuine affection make my chest feel tight. This is what I want for Lila—to feel as much a part of the band as Kendrick and Emily do.

The night has wound down, and Lila and I are heading back to our suite. But as we step out of the private lounge and into the dimly lit hallway leading back to the hotel’s elevators, that’s when it happens.

The flash of a camera. The shuffle of footsteps as a figure steps out from the shadows, a recorder already in hand.

“Luke!” A voice—sharp, eager, hungry—cuts through the quiet.

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