My stomach twisted and curdled. The two bites of burger I’d swallowed sat heavy in my gut. “I think you don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve dreamed about making music since I knew what a producer was. I don’t know why—”
“Idoknow what I’m talking about. I know what it means to work my ass off for something that’s a pipe dream to ninety-nine point nine percent of the population. No safety net if I failed. And that’s because I wanted it like nothing else.”
A lump formed in the back of my throat. I wasn’t even sure if it was tears, anger, or bile, only that I had to swallow several times before I could breathe evenly.
“Can we talk about something else? I didn’t come here to be criticized. I get that every week from my father.”
“Adelaide…” Adam slipped his arm behind me, wrapping it around my shoulders. “I’m not criticizing you, and I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. I want you to have every fucking dream you’ve ever dreamed. If I could reach out and grab it for you, I would. I can’t, though. You have to.”
I nodded, pressing my lips together. He laid a smacking kiss on the side of my head.
“You can’t be mad at me.” He tapped my plate. “I fed you cow.”
That made me laugh, despite the lead weight in my belly. “That’s true. You already made one of my dreams come true, Wainwright.”
The lights went down. I squeezed June’s hand. One of us was trembling. Or maybe we both were. Then again, the whole arena could have been trembling with anticipation.
The Seasons Change were about to take the stage. Hushed excitement blanketed the crowd.
June had the night off from taking care of Ezra since Wren’s aunt was visiting, so I got to have her with me. Wren was on my other side. In her quiet, sweet way, she was just as giddy as the two of us, despite having already seen this show many,manytimes this summer.
The low, steady beat of drums came first. A soft light barely highlighted Rodrigo behind his kit. Another light glowed around Callum strumming his bass, and Wren gasped at the sight of her husband. Therewassomething absolutely undeniable about his presence, but the moment Adam became illuminated, my attention was torn away.
Tall, lean, confident, Adam Wainwright took hold of his portion of the stage the way he held his guitar. Easy, like it took no effort at all to move his fingers like lightning. His eyes roamed the crowd, and he found me just as easily as he did everything else. His grin was lazy and almost goofy. My teeth caught my bottom lip, but there was nothing to catch my swooping stomach.
At Iris’s presence, strutting across the stage in a bloodred corset and jeans so ripped up, they barely counted as pants, the crowd’s thrill tore through the air. I’d just been eating dinner with her an hour ago, but I found myself screaming and jumping up and down.
TSC put on a show like no one else. They hit hard the entire time. Iris never stopped moving, prowling every single inch of the stage. She was a goddess up there, her confidence and fire lighting up the entire venue.
She didn’t keep the fire for herself though. She moved around to her bandmates, sharing the spotlight with them.
Callum, the dark horse of the band, fell to his knees, leaning back, and she loomed over him, singing to him. They were connected, music flowing back and forth between them. Wren grinned like a madwoman at that part.
Then Iris and Adam sang into the same mic, and she cuffed his chin with her black nails. He winked at her, his fingers never faltering as they sang together.
June knew all the words to every song. I knew half and bullshitted my way through the rest. I couldn’t stop myself from getting deep into it. The music wrapped around me, invaded me, swept me up.
Tonight had originally been about Adam, but I was screaming for all of them. Rodrigo’s beat took over my heart. My feet danced to Callum’s rhythm. Iris’s powerful belt filled my lungs. And Adam…well, he was in my bones.
His music. His music was in my bones.
He kept finding me, gazing at me from under hooded lids. He’d lost his shirt somewhere in the middle of their set. Torso gleaming with sweat, his jeans rode low on his hips. HisVwas sharp and defined. The tips of my fingers tingled—no. No, I was not entertaining that train of thought.
I had to remind myself this was Adam. Smelly, snoring Adam. Fuckboy Adam. If I was attracted to him, it was only because he was on stage, making magic. Even Iris was making my pulse pound, and I’d never been into women. It was the music, the show, the all-consuming energy pouring from every member of TSC. Roddy’s was hotter than the sun. Iris’s was crisp. Callum’s was an icy blast. And Adam’s was the first dash of warmth after a bitter winter.
Their set ended all too soon, and I was left bereft, like coming down from the most exquisite high knowing I’d never have it again. June slipped her hand around mine.
“Will you stay with me? Unrequited is coming on next and Diego is playing the first two songs with them. I-I want to watch him, but I don’t think I can stay alone.” June chewed on her lip as she tugged at the hem of her TSC T-shirt. God, she was so cute.
“All you had to ask was for me to stay. No explanation needed.” I bumped her hip. “Not a Maeve fan?”
Diego had been the original drummer for Unrequited. Five years ago, he dropped out of music, left the band without warning, and they’d scrambled to replace him. Their fans hadn’t wanted to like Maeve, but there was no denying her. She was a powerhouse. That didn’t mean they didn’t go crazy when Diego made guest appearances at their shows.
“I love Maeve.” June pressed her hands to her cheeks. “It’s just…Diego…” She sighed.
“You have a thing for the younger Garza brother?”
She turned to me, her eyes wide. I thought she’d deny it, but she nodded, her cheeks flaming.