Page 56 of One More Made Up Love Song
Kat’s going to be thrilled, because we couldn’t possibly look more like a couple.
Ivy leans in, her lips close to my ear. “You’re tense. Is everything okay?”
I nod, but I still don’t move my feet. Not until Ivy hooks her hand through mine and tugs us forward.
Seconds later, we’re inside the arena, a heavy steel door cutting us off from the noise of the crowd outside.
“What happened?” Ivy says. “You okay? You completely froze out there.”
“No, I…I’m good,” I say as I take in her face, the concern in her deep brown eyes.
For years, it’s only been me in the spotlight. I’ve dated, yes. But only people who are also famous. Who are used to the spotlight like I am.
Practically speaking, I knew this would happen when we decided to move forward with Kat’s plan. But understanding itwillhappen and actually experiencing it are two different things.
Even though Ivy has been with me for years, she’s never had to step into the spotlight. Not like this.
I feel a suddendesperateneed to protect her from it. Like I would do anything—walk away from all of it—if that’s what it took to keep her safe.
I’ve never felt anything like this before, and it overwhelms me. It feels like my brain is realigning, priorities clicking into a new and different order.
“I’m good,” I repeat. “Sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
She studies me closely. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Okay,” she says. “Then I’m going to go find Seth.” She glances at her watch. “You’ll be ready for soundcheck in a few minutes?”
I nod. “Absolutely.”
She turns and heads down the hallway, leaving me with Wayne and a member of the arena staff who just showed up, presumably to take me to my dressing room. I fully understand why Ivy has to be in work mode right now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish she was still standing beside me.
Wayne lets out a chuckle, and I frown. “What? Why are you laughing?”
“No reason.”
“You have to have a reason.”
We move down the hallway side by side, but my grouchy security guard doesn’t say anything else, not until we reach my dressing room and the arena staff has left us alone.
“I’m just saying,” he says when he’s sure only I can hear him. “You’re a great singer, man. But you’ve never been much of an actor.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs like he’s admitting something as casual as the forecast for tomorrow’s weather. “There’s no way you faked the way you just looked at her.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ivy
Los Angeles crowdsare always great, but last night’s show had a magic to it that’s been missing the last few stops of the tour. Freddie was on fire, filled with a kind of joy I didn’t realize was missing until I watched him on stage. He’s always amazing. A natural performer. But last night, he was havingfunagain. Like it wasn’t just about hitting his marks and singing his songs. It was about engaging with the crowd. About letting their energy fill him up.
“Dang,” Carina says as we ride the elevator down to the garage where Wayne and Freddie are already waiting for us. “Freddie really killed it last night. He’s all over Instagram.” She holds out her phone, showing me a video of Freddie singing “She’s Got Me,” a fan favorite that always gets the crowds riled up.
“It was a great show,” I say. “His best in a while.” TheLA Timesalready published a review in today’s edition of the paper that I read and immediately forwarded to Freddie. Itwas a glowing summary—exactly the kind of thing we want to see.
Carina pulls her phone back. “People are saying it’s because he’s in love,” she says, nudging my shoulder with hers. I nudge her right back, making her bag drop onto the floor next to my suitcase.
