Page 73 of Rockstar's Fake Engagement

I don’t get a chance to move before he’s already off the stage, weaving through the mass of people, making a direct path toward where I’m standing.

“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath, gripping my hands together.

The moment he reaches me, his hand is on me—at my waist, firmly pulling me closer.

“What did you think?” he asks, his voice low.

I swallow, glancing up at him.

He’s buzzing—adrenaline still thick in his veins, sweat dampening the collar of his shirt, his pupils blown wide under the glow of the lights. And he’s never looked sexier in his life.

“It was…” I clear my throat, willing my voice to stay steady. “It—you were incredible.”

He watches me closely, like he’s searching for something beneath the surface.

Like he knows, I felt it, too. The songs. The connection. The way every note seemed to wrap around us, pulling us into something neither of us wants to name… at least not yet.

His fingers press into my waist just slightly.

Before I can say anything else, Emily and Rachel appear, interrupting the moment.

“That was insane,” Emily gushes, beaming. “The label execs were losing their minds. The press loved it.”

Rachel nods, eyes sharp and calculating. “Social media is already blowing up. Photos are already popping up everywhere.”

The rest of the band joins us, all of them still riding the post-show high. Cass claps Nate on the back, grinning. “You were on fire tonight, man.”

Nate barely acknowledges it. He’s still watching me.

Emily clears her throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Okay, you guys have about twenty minutes to relax, then we need you back for press photos and interviews.”

Sam groans. “Do we have to?”

Emily and even Rachel level him with a look.

“Fine,” he mutters, grabbing a drink from a passing waiter. “But I need alcohol first.”

As the others disperse, Nate leans in, his breath warm against my ear.

“Come with me,” he murmurs.

I shiver. It’s not a request.

And before I can think, before I can question why my heart is racing so damn fast—I nod—allowing him to pull me away.

Nate leads me through a maze of hallways, his grip firm on my hand. Away from the crowd, away from the cameras and expectations. My heart pounds harder with each step, anticipation building as we turn another corner.

He finally stops at a dimly lit alcove, hidden from the main corridor. Before I can catch my breath, he spins me around, pressing me against the wall. His hands bracket my face, and his eyes—his eyes are wild with something I’ve never seen before.

“I couldn’t focus,” he growls, his voice rough. “Every time I looked at you out there...” His thumb traces my bottom lip. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

I can barely breathe. “Nate—“

He cuts me off with a kiss that steals the air from my lungs. There’s nothing gentle about it—it’s all heat and need and desperation. My fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer as his tongue sweeps into my mouth.

He tastes like adrenaline and desire, and I’m drowning in it.

His hands slide down my sides, gripping my hips to pull me flush against him. I gasp at the contact, and he uses the opportunity to trail hot kisses down my neck.

---