Page 31 of Stuck With My Rockstar Boss
I get no response. And I’m a little shocked. Or hurt. I don’t know how I’m going to go onstage with him tonight if he’s been ignoring me. How the hell am I going to sing “Vicky” with him if I feel so hurt by him? The song needs the energy of a succubus, not a mopey, heartbroken fool who has no right to the heartbreak since she got herself into it.
I try to ignore it, push it down by goofing off with the girls. Lee’s ex-girlfriend lives here, so we’re all crowded around her phone, watching text messages come in and crafting cryptic and mysterious responses. We’re giddy and giggling backstage before the show, which almost distracts me from the tall, blond man stretching in the corner.
Almost.
Tonight, Lucas has opted for something more conservative, which isn’t saying much when his default look is bare-chested and leather panted. He’s wearing a blue, floral top unbuttoned to his belly button. For some reason, it’s worse than seeing him totally shirtless. It reminds me of all the times we’ve had fumbling in bed together since Nashville. Running my hands down his chest to push the fabric asunder. Trailing kisses from his collarbone down to his belly before taking him in my mouth. Pressing my nakedness to him and hearing his breath change.
“Mika!”
I snap out of it when I hear Crystal’s voice.
“We’re on.”
I let her lead me out onto our riser for the first song of the set. The crowd is warm and welcoming and for some reason, it makes me sad. I want to be able to enjoy this. And I can’t.
The first set goes by with a blur. Lucas struts, Dylan strums, Jay thrums, Chase pounds. Fuck, my brain is on one thing and one thing only. I still want him. I can’t believe he was just able to cast me aside like this.
Just as I’m moping, Lucas introduces the next song and as he turns to check in with the band, his eyes flick to mine. His smile falters. Not in a bad way. It softens as if it’s trying to caress me, trying to touch my shoulder, trying to whisper to me.
I’m still here. I’m not going away.
Regardless of the truth, I’m able to buy into it enough to power through the rest of the show. When it comes time for the “Vicky” duet, I tentatively step into the spotlight with Lucas. And it’s unlike any other time we’ve sung it. It’s less aggressive, less violent. It’s plangent. True.
Damn, an acoustic version of this would be fucking bomb.
We finish the show boldly and brilliantly. Crystal, Lee, and I are playing off each other perfectly. The encore is spectacular and, even though the crowd is begging, the band decides they’re done for the night.
I keep my distance from Lucas to avoid disappointment. My plan tonight is to head right to the bus with the girls, maybe tinker around with Lee’s ex over text. Maybe go out. Maybe I should go out and try to get over Lucas by getting under someone else.
When we get to the buses, the guys having disappeared, I let Crystal and Lee go ahead of me inside. I need a moment. Take a breath. It’s a crisp Northern California night. Even though we’re in the city, I can smell the ocean. I can feel the fog. The redwoods aren’t that far. I could drive up there on our day off tomorrow.
The door of the other bus opens. I watch as someone emerges. In the dark, I can already tell who it is. And he’s walking toward me.
Lucas has changed out of his show clothes, opted for the more casual version of himself that has grown into the default Lucas I know. He walks toward me like a stray cat not sure if the human extending their hand to it is safe.
But I’m stupidly safe. I’ll take whatever he’ll give me. Even though I shouldn’t. I can’t.
I have to.
Neither of us say anything at first, only a few feet apart. I chew on the inside of my lip. I left the ball in his court. All he has to say is yes or no.
“Golden Gate Park’s open twenty-four hours. At least that’s what it says on Google.”
I reflexively look around as if we are being watched.
“Come with me, Mika.” His voice almost trembles. Like he needs me. I imagine if circumstances were different, he might wrap his arms around me and kiss me, hard and unending.
I smile and don’t say anything in response. He knows my answer.
The overlook is empty. After all, it’s after midnight. But the Golden Gate Bridge still looks majestic. Bathed in night yet lit up by road lights and cars that pass over it from time to time.
Lucas and I haven’t spoken much since we left the buses. We needed the right moment. The right place. The world had to be ready. And the drive here, the world was not ready.
But now, here we are. We’re sitting on the ground, both of our knees drawn up in front of us, staring out at where the Bay meets the Gulf. The world must be ready now, right? It’s so quiet I can hear Lucas’s breathing. I’ve become so accustomed to it. Measured and careful. Knowing how easy it is to break. “Lucas…”
“I don’t know what to do, Mika.”
I look at him, some hair falling in my eyes. Fuck, it’s gotten long.
