Page 72 of Rockstar's Fake Engagement

“Nate?” I lean in so only he can hear me over the noise. “You okay?”

His fingers flex slightly at my waist before he gives me a slow, sensual smile. “Yeah. Just ready to play.”

I don’t quite believe him, but before I can press, Sam and Vince appear beside us, drinks in hand.

“Time to warm up those muscles, Nate,” Vince teases, nudging him with his elbow. “Don’t want you throwing out a shoulder mid-set.”

Nate huffs a laugh, but his focus shifts to the stage. His grip tightens at my waist before he finally releases me, nodding toward the section where Rachel and the Wild Band women are waiting. “You good?”

I nod. “Go do your thing, rockstar.”

He lingers a moment longer, eyes scanning my face, then leans down and brushes a kiss against my temple.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he murmurs, his lips barely grazing my skin.

Like I would leave.

I watch him disappear into the crowd, following the other guys backstage. The moment he’s out of sight, I exhale, pressing a hand against my fluttering stomach.

I really need to get myself under control.

The lights dim, and the entire room collectively shifts, energy spiking as the LED screens flash Wild Band in bold, flickering letters. The chatter fades into an eager hush, everyone pressing closer to the stage.

Then, the opening chords of the first song pulse through the speakers, deep and resonant.

The stage lights burst to life, illuminating the band in a cascade of reds and blues.

Cass stands at the front, guitar strapped across his torso. His voice smooth and commanding as he launches into the first verse. His vocals blend seamlessly with Luke’s harmonies, theirvoices weaving together effortlessly, a sound that’s unmistakably new.

Sam’s bass thrums deep in my chest, vibrating through the floor. Vince’s guitar wails through the space, gritty and rich. And behind them all is Nate—

I swallow hard. He’s in his element, I can tell.

Seated at his drums, head slightly bowed, arms moving in precise, powerful strokes. His jaw is tight, his brows furrowed in focus, his entire body attuned to the rhythm. The lights catch in his dark hair, casting a glow over the sharp cut of his cheekbones and the set of his broad shoulders.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more captivating.

The song builds, the chorus swelling into something massive. The crowd feels it too, swaying and singing along even though they’re only hearing these songs for the first time.

And maybe it’s because I know the story behind this album, but—every lyric, every single note—All of it is a weave of different love songs.

Romantic, deeply personal, every word dripping with something raw and aching.

Luke wrote many of these songs for Lila—there’s no doubt about that. His love for her bleeds into every lyric, every chord.But sitting here, listening to the way the melodies rise and fall, the way Nate’s drumming punches through the emotional undercurrent of each song—I swear it feels like Nate’s playing just for me.

My pulse stutters as the band transitions into another track, this one slower, dreamier. Luke’s voice lowers into something intimate, crooning lyrics about longing, about wanting someone so intensely it becomes impossible to think of anything else. Then Cass takes over on the next song and the music continues to soar.

The camera feed on the LED screens zooms in on Nate, catching the moment he glances up—looking straight at me. Our eyes lock, and for a split second, the whole room disappears, and it’s just us.

His grip tightens on the sticks. His chest rises with a deep inhale. And then—he snaps his gaze away, slamming into the next beat like he needs the distraction.

I exhale shakily, gripping the edge of my seat as my pulse speeds up. What the hell is happening?

By the time the final song fades into a roaring wave of applause, my heart is still pounding as everyone surges to their feet.

The band takes its bows, sweat glistening at their temples, grins wide and triumphant. Cass and Luke share a quick fist bump, Vince tosses a guitar pick into the crowd, and Sam holds hishand in the air triumphantly, laughing as they wave to the screaming audience.

And Nate—he barely glances at the crowd. Instead, he’s looking for me.

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