His hand stills against me. "I didn't mean to imply-"

"I know." And then, because I might die otherwise, "Don't stop."

He laughs, his eyes dancing-and he slides closer, so much closer, working his thumb along me again in slow, perfect strokes.

God bless boys with strong, guitar-playing thumbs.

In the back of my mind, I can't believe I'm doing this. I've never been the kind of girl who hooks up with more than one guy at a time.

Except...that's not what I'm doing, not anymore.

Gage kissed Zoey. He's probably still kissing her.

There is nothing stopping me from enjoying myself here and now.

I shut my eyes and let my head fall back, giving in to the charged rush of sensations.

"Torture me by taking your time, much?" Luca's voice is the hint of a whisper. "Always making me wait."

"Shut up." I bite my lower lip, my eyes still closed, those flutters turning into pulses, my body trembling on the stool. His other hand presses more firmly against my lower back, and his thumb slides harder, harder, harder back and forth.

"Say yes. Come." He emphasizes the last word-and I almost do. My body is rushing toward that peak; I'm primed to let go, to release-except the sound of the door slamming against the wall behind jerks me straight out of the moment.

My eyes fly open and I twist around to see...Marx. Luca's stupid manager chooses this exact second to walk in without even knocking first.

All the mounting trembles and pulses under my skin recede as quickly as they came. Something hollows in my stomach, the emptiness of unfulfilled release.

"Need you, Luca." He ignores me and the telltale flush I feel across my cheeks.

"Great timing, Marx."

I turn back toward Luca, who shakes his head at Marx and then glances at me with an amused glint in his eyes. His hands are tucked casually in his pockets with only his thumbs-his talented, talented thumbs-hanging out at the sides.

"Let's go." Marx huffs and storms back through the door. Luca ducks toward me for a quick kiss before following his manager. I watch him go, waiting for my brain to catch up with everything that just happened.

"Cassie." He catches the door before it swings shut behind him. "Say yes."

The door closes with a soft click. And, somehow, I find myself sitting on the stool wondering how it would all work.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR.

I haven't moved an inch when, a few minutes later, Marx returns. He knocks this time, at least, before he comes in. "Luca said to get you and your friends."

I slide off of the stool and head toward him. "Isn't he about to go on?"

He nods, but doesn't elaborate.

"I'm not sure where our tickets are."

"You're not sitting in those seats anymore anyway," he says. "Now come on." He motions for me to hurry and I follow him, stopping short behind him at the door to the band's dressing room. He opens it and I see Teagan and Vera, waiting together in the otherwise empty room. He jerks his head and they join us down the hall, wide eyes matching my own.

"What's going on?" Teagan asks, but all I can offer is a shrug as I try to keep pace with Marx.

"Hey," Vera whispers to Teagan. "What did Norris say to you before?"

I glance to the side and notice the beaming smile across Teagan's face. She gives a small shake of her head, though, and simply says, "It's between him and me." And when she sees the question in my eyes, she adds, "No, it's nothing romantic, either. I liked Tisha-his wife, by the way-very much."

Marx hushes us, though there's no clear reason why. Maybe he's used to doing things like this, chauffeuring the girls Luca picks up through concert halls, and has lost his patience for it.

Ignoring his shushing, I ask, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," is all he'll say.

Part of me wants to demand an answer, but my gut tells me to shut up and keep following him. An odd excitement is building in my chest.

And this is how we end up watching the concert not from the front row, but from the side of the stage. Like, on stage. To the side, in the wing, out of the audience's view.

"This is so cool!" Teagan throws her arm across my shoulders. "You are seriously the best to get us hooked up like this."

Her grin is all Cheshire, practically ear-to-ear. Whatever Norris said to her-something I'm determined to get out of her-is making her happier, bouncier than I've seen her in a long time. Ever, maybe. It's a good look for her, and for a moment, for this one little sliver of time, all my own problems and anxieties fade to the background so I can simply enjoy my friend's happiness.

And then it's the show I'm enjoying. The music is so loud my ears ring, but my stomach fills with a giddiness at getting to watch Luca strut around on the stage from this close. And strut he does. He works his hips and thrusts for effect. The audience goes wild and so does Vera. I swear, the girl has zero control when it comes to Luca.

Okay, who am I kidding? Teagan and I go wild, too, dancing and singing along, our eyes glued to the stage. Even when Polly looks our way and her eyes go wide in surprise-right before she narrows them to shoot daggers in our direction-nothing can quell the excitement of practically being onstage.

And then Luca motions for the crowd to quiet and walks toward the edge of the stage, holding a finger to his mouth like he's got a secret to share.

"We're throwing a song into the mix tonight," he says, holding a hand out toward the audience. "This one's old, but I'm sure you know it. And I'm gonna need someone to sing it to. Otherwise, I'll always wonder what could've been!"

The crowd goes absolutely bananas. "Could've Been" was one of their first number one singles years ago. It wasn't a part of their set last night, but Luca's turning his head, looking at me in the wings-and now using that free hand to gesture for me to join him.

Panic makes a knot in my stomach so fast I almost double over. I shake my head so hard there's a chance of whiplash. "Nope. Nuh uh. Not going out there."

"Go, Cassidy!" Teagan shoves my shoulder.

I can't. I'm too...I don't even know what I am. "He's doing this on purpose."

"No shit," is Vera's contribution.

"No. I mean. He's trying to force my hand." He's trying to dazzle me. I drape a hand across my stomach. "This is embarrassing."

"Oh, boohoo," Vera says. "Hot rock star wants to serenade you on stage. Such a rough life."

I turn to her. "You know, you've picked up some serious sarcasm skills, yoga-girl."

For a moment she looks like she might snap; her eyes give her away. Then she deflates, sighing. "Fine. I'm jealous. Happy?"

"No!"

She points toward the stage where he's waiting for me, his arm still extended. "Go."

"I can't." Literally, I can't force my feet to move.

"Cassidy, just go." Teagan shoves me again, this time hard enough that I fly forward. Out from the wings and onto the stage where I skid to a stop.

Well fuck.

The lights are blinding and I'm squinting and people are screaming and then I feel Luca take my hand and some of the overstimulation recedes a bit. Still, my breath comes in shaky and leaves even shakier. I don't know where to look. The lights make it almost impossible to see the audience in front of us. Maybe that's a good thing.

He leans in, placing his mouth beside my ear. "You okay?"

All I can do is nod.

He gestures to a roadie waiting on the opposite side of the stage who rolls out a tall, black chair. Luca walks me toward it, leaning in again to tell me to take a seat. It's none too soon, to be honest, as my legs are going all to jelly.

He nods, once, and puts the microphone back to his mouth. "Let's give it up to my girl, Cassie!"

More screaming. I...can't still my pulse enough to make any of this feel real. I catch eyes with Polly and she drops her gaze, fiddling with her guitar.

Then Luca starts to sing, and everything else fades away.

He's right in front of me, literally serenading me, but I can't meet his eyes. I watch his hand around the microphone. I study the black ink tattoos lining his forearm and traveling up under the short sleeve of his shirt.

I want to lick him from wrist to shoulder.

Then I listen to his words, and that desire deepens to the point I have to cross my legs to keep from jumping off the chair and onto him.

Slick sweat Rough Without rhythm and yet a harmony all its own Dark room Copper heat She scrapes and comes away with a layer of his skin under her chipped paint nails, with the whisper of his voice in her ears She needs more.

She needs more.

He needs more.

Twisted sheets Tangled legs Skin to skin The hardest thing she ever did was never let it happen The hardest thing she ever did was never let it happen One night with him What would've been What could've been At the exact moment Luca finishes singing? Yeah, fireworks boom above the stage. I forgot it's the Fourth of July. He stands still, staring at me, the bright flashes of whites and reds above us illuminating his face. The dry, sulfured smell of the explosions drifts in the air around us and the crowd is still screaming and I can't look away from him.

See, his expression seems to say, see how far I'm willing to go for you? And, yes, my heart quickens in my chest, responding, yes, I see. A moment later, he holds his hand out to me and helps me out of the chair and off the stage. A quick squeeze of my fingers and then he's back to performing, belting out the start of "Born for America," another old song and another one the crowd goes nuts for.

The rest of the concert goes by like a dream. My ears stop working and-from the music I know is loud to the excited questions and exclamations from Teagan and Vera beside me-everything reaches me in the form of an echo, like there's cotton in my ears. My face is frozen, too, so even if I could hear my friends, I doubt I could move my mouth to answer them.

Marx comes to get us as Gold Rush Standard closes their set, and I follow him without a word. Teagan and Vera, however, have plenty of words and at some point I begin responding to them, though I can't, for the life of me, recall a single thing that's been said after Marx drops me off in Luca's dressing room.

I sink, slowly, onto one of Luca's couches and work hard to compose myself before he gets here. I almost succeed.

He walks into the room, whistling a jaunty little melody, lifting his chin in greeting when he sees me. "Hey, you."

"That was a little heavy handed out there." Good. Sarcasm is much stronger than I thought I'd be capable of. Because holy hell my entire body feels numb, frozen. A part of me thinks I should be swooning, melting into his arms right now. Another part wants to slap him for coming on so strong. But...I'm too overwhelmed to make much sense of anything. I sink back further into the couch, the leather cool against the backs of my arms.

"Is that all you have to say?" he asks, a cocky smile across his lips. Between the look on his face and the sweat glistening sexily on his brow and the way he just completely rocked on stage for the rest of the concert, I'm tongue-tied all over again.

"Yep," is all I can manage. Damn. And I started so strong.

"Come on, Cass. You loved it." He steps toward me, but my limbs are made of jitters and he's too close for me to think and so I flee to the other side of the room. I lean against the dressing table, facing the long mirrors lining the wall. In them, my eyes are wide and still a little shocked. My cheeks are pink, though, and there's a coil of excitement in my belly.

In the mirror, my gaze meets his. "I'm sure I'll never forget it."

"So tell me, then. Are you going to always wonder what could've been? Or are you going to come with me?"

I don't answer.

He takes a few steps toward me, stopping when my shoulders tense. "Cassie. You don't need to be so freaked out."

But I am freaked out-and with good reason.

I...I kind of want to go for it, to leave with Luca and get swept away in the tour.

It's crazy, though, to think like this.

I tuck a few stray blonde strands behind my ears and turn around to face him. "Of course I need to be freaked out. What you did out there-what you're suggesting now...it's a bit much."

"I know this is all kind of quick, but we leave tomorrow at the crack of dawn for Tennessee. I don't have enough time to convince you with subtlety." He crosses the rest of the room and grabs my hands. "Come to Nashville with me."

"If I go with you, I'm basically making myself your mistress."

His eyebrows rise and he cracks half a smile. "Rock mistress. Kind of an awesome title."

"Luca."

"It doesn't have to be like that. I told you I would find a job for you."

I shake my head.

"Would being by my side really be that bad?"

I...don't know how to answer him. Because a part of me-a large part of me-doesn't think it would be.

I could be in Tennessee tomorrow.

I could be in Tennessee tomorrow without a care in the world.

I could be in Tennessee tomorrow without a care in the world-and getting to spend my nights with Luca freaking James.

My system is circling panic and excitement and desire so quickly I can't tell which is which and I'm starting to feel a little nauseated.