Page 80 of I Need You Tonight
Mason shrugged, then walked onstage and waved at the audience. This only made them more excited, cheering louder than when the band had left the stage. He headed for his drum set.
“I guess we’re going on.” Nolan grabbed his acoustic guitar from the roadie, and the guys joined their drummer onstage, to cheers from the crowd.
The stage manager grinned. “I was hoping they’d do that. I know opening for Endless Motion is big, but Pushing Limits shouldn’t be still playing as an opening act. They’re bigger than that now.”
As if agreeing with his words, the screams and hollers from the audience grew. The first beats of “My Song for You” filled the arena, and my mouth flopped open. I had already heard the story behind the song, which they never played in concert. It wasn’t even on their albums. I lifted my phone and began videotaping them. A moment later, Jared’s sexy voice filled the arena, and I was positive the reaction of the audience would cause the roof to cave in. Their excitement at hearing the song was undeniable.
Once the final bars of music faded away, I sent the video to Callie. Then I braced myself for the return of the five extremely sweaty men.
They bounced down the metal steps, their energy level higher than before they’d played the song.
“You guys were amazing,” I said, caught up in their enthusiasm. “And they agree with me.” I gestured toward the stage and the audience. “That song better be on your next album. I love it.” I grinned at Jared. “And I just sent Callie the video.”
He whipped out his phone from his back pocket, probably to text her.
Normally I didn’t touch Mason once he’d finish performing, at least not until he had showered. But given the past few days and given that the guys now knew how we felt about each other, I didn’t hold back this time. I flung my arms around his neck and kissed him, letting him know how much I loved him and how proud I was of him.
He returned my kiss. I vaguely heard the guys chuckling. Then Aaron suggested we go somewhere to celebrate their first encore performance.
“Before Remar finds out about it and chews us a new one,” Kirk said.
I unlocked my lips from Mason’s and looked over my shoulder at the guys, my arms still around Mason’s shoulders, his arms around my waist. “Remar? Who’s that?”
“Ronald Remar. The president of the record label.”
“Why would he chew you a new one? Do I need to send him the video of how the audience responded to the encore?” I would if it would make a difference.
Nolan smirked. “That might help. Although in the case of Remar, who knows. We’ve been trying to understand him since we first signed with the label.”
“Well, the man’s an idiot if he doesn’t see why you need to be doing encores.” Maybe I should storm the proverbial castle and have a chat with him, businesswoman to businessman. But I would refrain from calling him an idiot, even if he was one.
The guys decided to return to the hotel to shower first. Mason appeared as eager as them to go out and celebrate, which was surprising given how little sleep he’d had in the past few days. I guess the adrenaline high made all the difference.
While Mason showered, I freshened my makeup and changed into the dress I’d bought while Callie and I were shopping the other day. It was nothing like my usual style. The body-skimming black dress with spaghetti straps hit high on my thighs and was covered in black lace, revealing my arms and a portion of my chest. I got it for New Year’s Eve. Heidi had bought us tickets to some gala event back home—the same gala event she had promised flowers for.
Mason stepped out of the bathroom, this time wearing jeans and a fitted black T-shirt. He did a double take when he saw me, then looked around the room as if searching for the real me. “Wow,” was all he said, which pretty much summarized what I was thinking about him. The man could make even jeans and a T-shirt look amazing.
An image popped into my mind of what he would look like in a tux. I was certain even my imagination didn’t do it justice—and in my imagination Mason was pretty damn hot.
I slipped on my stilettos, meaning that I was at slightly less of a height disadvantage when it came to Mason, since he was so much taller than me.
He flashed me one of his patented smiles that caused all women within a thousand-yard radius to swoon. “Not quite the cowgirl you were when I first met you.”
I laughed. “When you first met me, I was wearing panda PJs, eating ice cream, and watchingDie Hard.”
“I happen to think those PJs are very sexy.” His arms encircled me and he brushed his lips against mine. I melted at his touch, and at the spicy scent that was all man, all Mason. “And I definitely miss eating ice cream and watchingDie Hardwith you.”
I missed those days too. Back when things were simpler. Back when we were close to being my version of a dream couple—only I hadn’t realized it at the time.
“I bet Bernie misses you.” I laughed softly at the memory of the big, lovable beast gazing adoringly at the equally big, lovable drummer. My heart hurt knowing that none of it was in Mason’s future. But that wasn’t where he belonged. Doing what he and Pushing Limits were doing…that was where he belonged.
I shoved the thought aside—along with the one where I imagined myself by his side on the road for the next twenty or so years.
The guys were waiting for us in the main lobby when we stepped out of the elevator. They were talking to a few people and signing autographs for them.
Mason suddenly stopped, body stiff, palms sweaty. Not far from us, the gambling zombies were busy pouring money into the slot machines. Put the coins in. Push the button. Repeat.
“Oh my God,” a young woman at one of the machines screamed, even though her friends were standing right next to her. “I won a hundred dollars!”
