Page 73 of Cadence
“Dallas, you guys fucking rocked,” I shout, breathless but grinning. “Are you ready for Reign Cooper?”
The crowd explodes, their roars thundering enough to feel it through the stage beneath my feet. I soak it in, knowing one day it won’t be for him. It’ll be for us.
“We’re Sip Station,” Beau cries out as he throws an arm around my neck, panting. “Goodnight!”
Cheers echo behind us as we walk off stage, unplugging guitars, peeling off earpieces, retreating deeper into the wings while Reign’s tech crew moves in fast, swapping out our gear for his, checking mics and resetting levels.
Reign waits just offstage, calm and collected as ever, like he didn’t just sell out a twenty-five-thousand-seat arena. One arm folded, the other loosely holding a water bottle, his shirt hangs open, his tanned chest catching the light. He has one leather boot propped against the wall as he watches everything, amused and unbothered, his dark blond curls a mess on top of his head like he just rolled out of someone else’s bed.
He catches my eye and smirks. “Nice warmup, Knox.”
I nod, giving him that half-grin I save for people I might actually like. “We try.”
He pushes off the wall and heads to a guy who looks like he could fold me in half just for fun. Broad shoulders under a dark denim jacket, hair in a topknot, beard thick enough to bury half his face. Reign pulls a chain from around his neck, studying it for a beat before handing it over. The guy carefully tucks it in his inner pocket without a word, Reign’s eyes never leaving it until it’s gone.
Satisfied, he nods, taking his guitar from a stagehand and slinging it into place, sending me a wink. “Time to show ’em how it’s done.”
Eli’s choice of bar for our first real night out on tour shouldn’t surprise me, but somehow, it still does. We walk into a dim, chaotic barn that smells like beer and hay, complete with a mechanical bull rumbling in the corner, surrounded by drunk encouragement and bad decisions waiting to happen.
Paige slides past me, hair still damp from her rushed shower, legs bare under tiny black denim shorts. She leans against the railing, rising onto her toes, the long muscles of her calves tightening beneath smooth, sun-kissed skin.
I take her in, slow and inevitable, just in time to catch the curve of her ass as the fabric rides up. Just a glimpse. Just enough for my cock to take notice.
Rubbing a hand over my jaw, I force myself to look away, turning to take the high table near the wall, trying not to track her every move. She laughs at something Eli says, tossing her head back, hair shining in the low neon light, before their glasses clink together.
Eli leans in, whispering again, and I don’t even know what he said, but I want to rip the grin off his face just for being that close.
“You keep staring at her like that and people are gonna talk,” Beau says as he comes up beside me with two beers.
I grunt as I take one. “I’m not—”
“—into her. Yeah, I know. Like I’m not texting that lighting tech girl again.” He takes a sip, eyes on Paige.
“It’s not like that,” I mutter, even though I can’t stop staring.
“Sure… And you didn’t drop a hundred dollars on sanitary products for her, either. Look…” He swallows, edging closer, his voice low. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but don’t think I haven’t noticed how instead of acting like two strays fighting over a scrap of meat”—he glances at me pointedly—“you’re now circling like wolves. Not sure if you’re gonna fuck or fight.”
I shoot him a look, trying to scoff like he’s reading into something that isn’t there. But my face doesn’t lie, and Beau’s too attuned to me not to notice.
“Appreciate the poetry,” I mutter, taking a swig, the light beer tasting like lukewarm guilt.
Beau taps his bottle against mine. “Just…don’t get so close you forget why this is complicated. Not just for you, but for us too. Don’t forget who she is.”
Eyes never leaving her, I nod once. “I haven’t.”
“Right,” he mutters. “Of course you haven’t. But don’t you think you should at least tell her about—”
“Don’t,” I snap, taking a long pull from my beer, jaw tight, gaze fixed on Paige. “You keep trying to bring this up. Not here, okay? Not yet. I’ll figure it out.”
Because I can’t think about that. Not when I’ve started to feel… Fuck, I don’t even know.
Beau nods slowly, lips pressed together like he’s biting back the rest of what he wants to say, the seconds ticking by. Paige cheers on some random guy on the bull, shirt riding up, hipsswaying to the music, smooth legs flexing, and I hate how easy it is to forget why this is so complicated.
“Time to do something stupid,” Eli shouts, slamming his empty glass on the table. “Who’s getting on the bull?”
“You’re kidding!” Paige laughs, joining our group.
“Nah, Drummer Girl.” He grins, oblivious to the way my jaw clenches at his stupid nickname for her. “Prepare to witness greatness.”
