Page 68 of Introvert

A blink. "Was I supposed to?"

"If you were wearing what I picked out for you for tonight, they'd all know you're with the band."

I looked past her at the guys then shook my head. "Not sure anythingwoulddo that. They're too pretty."

Mercury snapped her fingers in front of my face, and my eyes whipped back to her. She was shaking her finger and head in tandem. "Now, now, none of that. I'll have you looking like rock royaltywhenyou hit the stage. Don't worry."

"Okay, thanks again."

"Hmmm," she said then shooed me away. "Go. He's been waiting for you."

"He who?" I asked.

Mercury arched a brow, and instead of answering, she said, "Come see me later. I'll get you out of those rags before the show."

I nodded—my jeans, t-shirt, and cardigan were all fairly new, but I didn't think pointing that out would make a difference—stepped behind the tableand made my way, head down, over to Felix, keeping my eyes fixed on him. When I finally made it to his side, I breathed a sigh of relief. Felix looked up, mouth open like he was going to say something, but then hefrowned.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said.

"Don't lie. You're allred."

"I'm fine."

"Here, sit down."

Before I could protest, he stood and nudged me into his now-vacant chair. Kneeling, hishand caressed my cheek, his fingertips lifting my chin until I had no choice but to meet his gaze.

"I'm fine," I repeated.

"Princess" was all he said.

But it was enough. My lungs felt like they fully expandedfor the first time in forever, the endless walk past that line a distant memory, and I almost smiled.

"How do you do that?" I asked.

"Do what?"

"Make me feel better with nothing but your voice."

Felix blinked, then a small smile tilted his lips.

"It's a gift," he said.

Shaking my head at his arrogance, I wasstarting to relax—until the girl in front of us cleared her throat.

"Uh, excuse me," she said from the other side of the table, "but I was here first."

"Oh, sorry," I said, looking to Felix.But hewas frowning at the girl. "She's right.I can wait until you're done."

"I'm done," he said.

"But you didn't even sign my poster," she protested.

"Sorry, my wrist hurts."

"But—"

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