Normally, I would tense up at someone recognizing me out of costume, but I nod at security to let her through. “What’s your name?”
“Amber. And I want to be a DJ. You’re seriously my hero. I’ve been working on music for a few years, but it’s nowhere near as good as yours. I wish I knew how to make it better.” She flushes, looking embarrassed. “School’s hard, and the music helps me stay focused. I shouldn’t be telling you all this, but I’m nervous.”
“It’s cool. Music helped me get through shit too. Tell you what—send me something. We can talk about it.”
I give her my email, and she clutches her phone to her chest. “Thank you.”
When I get back to our booth, Harrison tugs me against his side. “Friend of yours?”
“A fan who wanted some advice about producing. I told her we’d talk.”
The look in his eyes contains so many emotions—admiration, respect, something more than both.
“I recorded a set poolside at Beck’s today,” I blurt. I’ve busted my ass playing five shows in the last six nights, but I need to do more. “That’s why I was late. His crew filmed it for his show, and it’s going to drop in a couple of weeks. But we arranged for me to preview it on my feed and push the fan vote. Hopefully, it’ll be enough to put me over the top.”
His eyes shine. “You’re brilliant.”
The concert is spectacular, an orgy of music and lights and the energy of the crowd building and diffusing in that magical way only an outdoor venue seems to make possible.
For his part, Tyler’s incredible. Annie watches with so much emotion and adoration it makes my chest hurt. I glance over at Harrison, his strong profile, and wonder if he watches me the same way.
After the show, we head backstage to hang with Tyler, celebrating with our friends.
By the end of the evening, we head back to our hotel. I’m thinking about Harrison’s words from earlier about blame and revenge.
“Do you ever wonder how your life would be different if your parents hadn’t died?” I ask in the back seat of the limo.
“Yes. I would be avoiding all responsibility. I would be the man the tabloids make me out to be, careless and unfeeling. Except the irony is the tabloids would no longer care because I wouldn’t matter.”
“It’s funny how the worst things in our life give us a reason to do better.”
His gaze locks on mine. “Sometimes I’m not sure. I’ve never much thought about what I’ll do after claiming La Mer and burying Mischa.”
I cock my head. “Well. You’ll have more time to watchGBBO.”
He snorts. “And after that?”
“You can catch up onSouth Park. There are a lot of seasons. Hundreds of episodes of social commentary and crass jokes that will make you do this.”
I reach over and press one of his brows up his forehead.
He’s laughing, and the idea of him sitting through my favorite episodes has me grinning too.
“I know what it is to want justice for your past,” I say once we’ve recovered. “But if the price is your future? It’s not worth it. You can start over.”
He tugs me toward him.
“You’re too young to be this wise,” he murmurs, capturing me with his eyes as much as his hold.
I’ve never felt the way I feel under the intensity of his study. The strong, commanding man is still there in his handsome face, sharp brows, and nose and jaw.
“This thing between us, Raegan. I didn’t plan on it.”
My brows shoot up. “Oh, and you think I did? You think I tracked you down at Tyler and Annie’s wedding, tanked my career, followed you to Ibiza to have a shot with you?”
He frowns but doesn’t answer. Only reaches into his pocket and produces a square red box with gold writing on top.Cartier.
Nerves grip me. It’s clearly not a ring, and I can’t picture him proposing since he said he never would again, but it’s jewelry.