Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 98823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Heart pounding, I scrambled backward, but the hand pulled more. Digging my heels into the stage, I managed to free my hand, but I still landed firmly on my ass, way too close to the edge for comfort.
“Everyone back,” one of the bouncers called as they both stepped forward, and the crowd near the stage retreated. My pulse took its own sweet time settling, and if I was this rattled, no way had Duncan failed to see that near-miss. He’d have plenty to say about it, I was sure.
Bring on the scolding. I couldn’t let him see how freaked out I’d actually been, how close I’d come to going over the edge. And I wasn’t going to let him take away from an otherwise stellar performance. As we got ready for the last number, though, my stomach fluttered like my body couldn’t decide whether it was dreading or anticipating Duncan’s reaction, and I didn’t like that one bit.
Chapter Seven
Duncan
“Where’s Ezra?” I asked Kate as soon as I found her in the maze of the backstage area. She looked frazzled, red hair flying in every direction, clipboard full of a messy stack of papers and backstage passes, so I tried to keep my voice even and professional for her benefit. I was known for a calm head under pressure, but lord had I seen red when Ezra reached into the audience earlier.
And if I was honest, it wasn’t the red of rage, at least not at first, but more a red alert, everything slowing down in the face of rising danger, heart thumping in my chest, cold sweat racing down my back even as my hands stayed steady. Like in the field, I channeled my worry into action, charging forward from where I’d stood near the stage. But unlike on missions, something else lurked in my chest, something beyond concern for a person under my protection, something I didn’t like one bit. As I waited for Kate to reply, I actively tried to gather my anger and stuff down those other, more uncomfortable emotions.
“Dressing room.” She pointed at an open door. The road crew had prepped the backstage area according to the band’s preferences before they arrived at the arena and, for Ezra, that meant a corner with an exercise mat and jump rope, a full-length mirror with an antique-looking frame, and several colorful tapestries covering the otherwise bland furniture that had already been in the small room.
Sprawled on a folding chair, he had the air of a young king on a crusade who’d brought his creature comforts along, every inch the royal persona his fans loved. Not surprisingly, he wasn’t alone. Carl leaned against a makeup vanity, the old-fashioned kind with a light-up mirror, and two young women stood next to him. The sun had long since set, but the women looked ready for another balmy day in teeny sundresses and high strappy sandals. Off duty, I might have spared them a second or third glance, but right then, I only had eyes for Ezra’s lazy smile.
“What were you thinking?” I demanded, not in the mood for pleasantries or introductions.
“Told you the security dude was gonna freak.” Carl shook his head. Like Ezra, he was sweaty and rumpled, and he rubbed his shaved head with a small towel.
“Yup. I’m surprised it took you this long to make it backstage.” Ezra winked at me like my frustration was some sort of inside joke. “But even with that little…bobble, the connection to the audience was still an awesome moment.”
“Dangerous moment.” I glared at him, no longer having to work to focus on my anger. Awesome moment. He simply didn’t get it. When I’d seen Ezra sliding toward the audience, my throat had closed in on itself and my helpless disbelief made me nauseous as I sprung into action, rushing forward. And that sick feeling hadn’t receded when Ezra had righted himself. It was too fucking close a call, and he didn’t seem to see the danger.
“I was okay.” He sounded defiant, but something in his eyes, a bit of false bravado maybe, gave me pause. I could sympathize to a degree, but that sort of cockiness got people injured. Or dead.
“Ezra probably made their whole summer,” the taller of the two blonde women gushed. “The video of him wearing that crown they tossed on the stage is already going viral.”
“Lovely.” I clenched my jaw hard enough that my teeth creaked.
“Maybe collecting audience crowns can become a new part of the show?” the shorter, curvier friend suggested.
“Absolutely not.” I gave all four of them the stare that used to make new recruits squirm. I might have a nice guy reputation, but I still knew how to make my point. I jerked my head toward the women. “And we seem to be short two backstage passes. Remember, all your guests need badges.”