Page 69 of Hold Still

With a kiss, we part ways. Tonight’s going to be epic.

AFTER THE CONCERT,which went great, I grab the bottle of water from Aiden’s hands. “That was the best performance of ‘Take Me’ yet. Good job!”

“Agreed.” I down the bottle and hand the empty back to Aiden. “Felt great out there tonight.”

As I’m heading down the hallway toward my dressing room, Aiden calls out. A note of caution in his voice makes prickles run up my spine. “Ginger’s in your room already. She has—”

Tamping down my body’s odd response, I continue on my journey. “A surprise. Yeah. I know.” My stride lengthens as I picture myself in the shower. With McKenna.

“Ozzy!” Aiden’s voice can barely be heard above the din of backstage.

Sometimes he can be such a worry wart. I wave my hand and continue toward my dressing room. McKenna’s standing in front of the door, waiting for me to get to her.

“Super show, Ozzy!” She says as she jumps up into my arms and wraps her legs around my hips. Her nose wrinkles at my stage sweat.

Catching her lips in a kiss, I find the door handle, open it and slip us inside. She laughs while our mouths devour each other. My balls tighten at the sound and I squeeze her tighter.

A cough penetrates my mind. It’s followed by a masculine chuckle. Ginger says, “Surprise!”

Great timing. McKenna releases her legs from my middle and I lower her to the floor. Turning, I greet my rep. “Ginger, may I introduce you to McKen—”

My voice stops mid-introduction. Ginger, blonde and skinny and dressed in a mini skirt-suit stands next to Luis.

Luis.

Ex-best friend and homewrecker extraordinaire.

I go rigid. Next to me, McKenna places her hand on my arm, rubbing her fingers up and down. “Ozzy?” she whispers.

The asshole extends his hand. “Long time no see.”

I remain motionless. A huge part of me wants to beat the shit out of the asshole. A very small part wants to hug my former best friend. I’ve fantasized about what I would do if I ever saw him again, but now I’m overcome with emotion and can’t make a move.

Luis drops his arm. Ginger looks between us. “Ozzy, your concert was great. I really liked ‘Take Me.’ And the audience did too.” She pauses. When no one speaks, she continues, “Since you’ve vetoed ghostwriters, Platinum wanted me to bring Luis back to help you finish out the album. He’s my surprise.”

Beside me, McKenna repeats, “Luis.”

He’s not my collaborator any longer. Keeping my eyes locked on the asshole, I give a curt nod to Ginger. McKenna’s now rubbing my arm in small circles.

My body temperature rises the longer I look at the man I used to call friend. I note the changes in his appearance since the last time I saw him. He’s thinner, if that’s even possible. His clothes hang loosely off his skeleton-like frame. His bald head is covered in a fedora, as usual. His beard is longer than I remember, scruffier and ungroomed.

Ginger pushes Luis toward me. “You two need to get reacquainted.”

Luis extends his hand again. “Looking good, Ozzy.”

I retreat a step. “Can’t say the same.”

A cell phone rings. Knowing it’s not mine—I always leave it turned off in here during a concert—I ignore the sound, and remain staring in disbelief at Ginger’s surprise. How could Platinum possibly have thought this was a good idea?

“Well, I’ll see you both at the after-party. Enjoy catching up.” Ginger picks up her bag with logos all over it and walks past McKenna, who, I now realize, is on the phone.

Luis begins, “Listen, Ozzy. It’s been years. I’m ready to leave the past behind and start writing together again. We produced some great hits. We used to be hermanos.”

I brush out a harsh laugh. “Says the man screwing the bitch who just got a ten-million-dollar payday.”

At his side, his hands fist. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fuck you.” I step forward and bring both of my hands to his chest and push. He falls two steps backward before catching himself.

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