Page 68 of Hard Ride

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Kyra sat in the dark arena.She gripped her drumsticks, one in each fist.Afraid they would shatter if she squeezed them any harder, she forced herself to relax each finger.And when she’d done that, she worked her way up her arms, rotating her wrists, then stretching her forearms and shoulders.

The only way she was going to survive the night, their show, and the rest of the disaster her life had become was if she could calm down, stop panicking, and think rationally, which she definitely had not been doing a few minutes ago.

Although she didn’t usually take her full practice session on days they performed live, she was going to make an exception.Playing would vent some of her discordant emotions, turning the jagged edges inside her into motion and energy and sound.

Ugliness would become beautiful.

Thankfully, she’d built up enough stamina over the years that she’d probably still be able to make it through the entire set list that evening, even if she’d need one hell of a massage the next morning.Having a masseuse on staff was a perk Kason had insisted on for all of them once they’d reached the big leagues.

The roadies hadn’t yet finished setting up the personal lights she used to illuminate her kit and the area near her during dark parts of the concert.So she stood and fumbled around the base of the new spotlight rig that had been partially assembled before she’d cleared the stage so she could mope in solitude.It was standing and plugged in, so she figured it would be fine for the half hour or so she planned to take out her anger on the drums.

The longer she spent in the aftermath of the spectacular collapse of her budding relationship, the more she was willing to admit it wasn’t rage or disappointment fueling her turmoil.Fear.That’s what clawed at her guts like bad Mexican food.

Because she knew that if she lost Van or Ollie or both, she’d never find a connection like they had again in her lifetime.This was it.They were it for her.

Whether they fucking realized it or not.

Idiots!Herself included, for giving them any reason to doubt the sincerity or depth of her emotions.

Kyra huffed out a breath, flipped on the breaker for the light stand, and watched as a beam brighter than the summer sun blasted down to illuminate her drums.If she sat there in the center of it and played, maybe everything else would fade away like the rest of the arena beyond the stage already had.

She hoped so.

Sitting down again, she cradled her sticks in her hands this time, stroking them lovingly before tapping out a beat on the bass drum with her foot.

She couldn’t say much about what happened after that.As usual, rhythms took over her body.They morphed and expanded as she toyed with them, always trying to play them cleaner, faster, or more originally.And next thing she knew, she was blasting through her featured solo, which gave Kason a chance to take a break and rehydrate during the show.

Kyra tinkered with it, improving bits as her skills and tastes evolved.When she was out of breath, and her eyes burned with the sweat dripping into them, she stopped, letting the final crash of a cymbal ring through the air and her soul.

Adrenaline coursed through her, making her heart pound and the breath saw in and out of her lungs.It was nearly as potent as the orgasms she’d experienced while trapped between Ollie and Van.Nearly.

She lowered her sticks and sat there, panting and sweating.Kind of pissed that her first thought after she finished playing was of the two people she’d been trying to beat out of her system.Fuck.

A string of applause from a single person echoed through the space.She snapped her head up, suddenly regretting the lights, which blinded her to her surroundings.All she could see was the hint of a silhouette, backlit by an open door far, far away.The man was too tall to be Ollie and too skinny to be Van.

“Who’s there?”she asked.

“Your number one fan.”

No.It couldn’t be.

“I can’t believe you’re in here, practicing before the show.You never do that.”

“I can’t believe you’re in here.Period.It’s a little weird that you know so much about what I do, Number One.”Okay,a littlewas the understatement of the century.But maybe he really was a socially inept man-child who didn’t realize how he came off.

“Sorry, I’m super awkward.”He came nearer so she could discern a few more details of him like his unkempt hair.Then he sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve.“That’s one reason I like you so much.You’re cool.”

Kyra surrendered a twisted laugh at that.“Hardly, but thanks.”

Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“So how’d you get in here anyway?”she asked, trying to stall in the hopes that someone would come by for a sound check or to test out the lighting despite her earlier tirade about how they should stay the fuck out until she told them they could come back.There was little to no solitude in their business.Of course today they seemed to realize she was a woman on the edge and had taken her seriously.

“Oh, I’m always the first person in.I wouldn’t be your number one fan if I wasn’t first.”He ambled closer still, to the very edge of the stage so she caught the sharp angle of his nose and the thick brows above dark eyes.Then he lowered his voice conspiratorially, having exactly the opposite effect on Kyra that he had been hoping for.She stood and rounded her kit so she wasn’t trapped by the instruments, edging toward the wings and the partially completed riggings there.

“Of course.You’re right.”She tried to smile, though it must have come out crooked.“You go to all our shows, don’t you?That takes commitment.”

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