Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 34629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
The story of us has leaked into the media a little, but I’m sure once we’re back stateside, it will explode even more. We’ve already heard from the label about their disapproval and have had talks about getting the band a new manager, but Cash stepped in and basically told the execs he’d walk if they so much as touched me. Cash Me Outside without Cash Kingsley would be like Bon Jovi without Jon. It just wouldn’t work.
With the band’s full support, Seb and I know that whatever happens, we’re ready for it. I think we’re ready for a lot. He has shown me in the last two months that he can handle the job while being in a relationship with me.
I fidget with the ring again.
It’s too soon, Thorne. Way too soon.
The show is getting toward the end, so Cash ducks offstage for one last wardrobe change before the final song and then encore. While he’s gone, Seb entertains the crowd.
“It’s hot as balls out here tonight!”
That’s my man.
The crowd screams and eats up his onstage persona like they always do. They don’t get to see the man I know deep down. The one who comes home with me after a show and lets down his walls.
The one who begs me to fuck him and then murmurs how much he loves me before we fall asleep.
When Cash goes back onstage for the last song, the pyro starts up.
Maybe if I was paying attention to the wider surroundings and not so stuck on Seb, I would see it sooner—the firework aimed right at him.
Dread sinks like lead when it goes off, and I see what’s happening.
I fucking told Cash the pyro was too much. I told him.
And now, as everything happens in slow motion yet too fast, my heart jumps into my throat because I know I can’t get to Seb in time.
The firework shoots into the air, on a mission to take off Seb’s head. My feet scramble to work. To run to him. But I won’t make it.
“Seb!” I call out, but like my vision, it’s too slow. Too soft. It comes out in a panicked gasp.
I’m not fast enough, and the fear that slices through my gut is crippling.
In this moment, I fear the worst, and instead of thinking about saving him, all I can think about is regret. I regret holding out. I regret not having his ring on my finger.
Why the fuck did we wait?
By some miracle, Seb sees it and has fast enough reflexes to throw his entire body flat onto the stage, his guitar landing under him with a loud crash.
The firework shoots over the top of him, clipping a stage light above him and sending it falling just a few feet from his flattened body.
Chaos rings out, the sound of shattered glass echoes in my ear, but I’m still not moving.
Why can’t I move?
The crowd screams in horror, but it’s all background noise.
Finally, my feet unlock from their spot, and I rush onstage, not giving a shit seventeen thousand pairs of eyes are on me. It’s my job to be invisible, but I can’t be this time. Not with this.
Not with him.
I hook my arms under Seb and lift him to drag him offstage so I can assess any damage. His broken guitar is still strapped to him, so I take that off and then hold him close.
He’s wide-eyed and silent, probably in shock.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur.
He trembles in my arms, his clammy skin breaking out in goose bumps.
I lead him to sit on an amp box and take my suit jacket off to wrap around him. It’s hot as sin out here, but he’s shivering. Getting on my knees, I run my hands over him to check him over.
Backstage crew swarm us, but I shoo them all away. “I’ve got this. Give him some space.” I turn to Seb. “Are you hurt?”
Seb swats at my hands. “I’m fine. Stop fussing.”
I’d believe that more if he wasn’t shaking.
“Seb—”
He seems to shake out of whatever shocked trance he’s in. “I’m fine. I promise. I just … Fuck, that was crazy.”
“Whoever set up the pyro is fucking fired,” I grit out.
Seb takes a deep breath and smiles. “No. They’re not.”
“What?” I shriek.
“You know what I saw right before I thought I was dead?”
Cash and Greg appear at our sides.
“What was that?” Cash asks and turns to me. “What do we do? There’s broken glass all over the stage.”
Right. Shit. I need to be in manager mode right now. “Show’s over. You were on the last song, and no one will blame you guys for cutting it short.”
“No, we should finish the set,” Seb says and tries to stand.
“Are you kidding me?” I push him back down. “You’re not going back out there.”
“We can’t end a show like that.” He points to the stage where crew members are already clearing away the debris.