Back to the Top (Ross Records) (3) (3 page)

“I can’t wait for the show to start,” she said, elation flashing across her face. “There’s no opening band, either, since it’s a promotional tour.”

“Oh, good,” I said, mustering some enthusiasm. I wasn’t eager for the heartache to rear its ugly head but I couldn’t deny that I did want to see him. I just wanted to make sure he was okay.

Brad and Kevin returned with our drinks and took their seats. Only moments later, the house lights went off and the anticipation level skyrocketed.

So did my heart rate.

Lights flashed while a guitar screamed. The audience followed suit, shrieking and clapping and whistling.

I downed my beer, slopping a bit of foam on my shirt, and stood with the rest of the crowd. Slowly, the curtain began to rise as a drum beat joined the guitar. My heart flipped as I realized that I’d get to see Nick, Ronnie, and Matt, too.

Then, the spotlight hit the stage as the band started playing the song I’d once accused Jake of being pornographic.

Beside me, Jenny screamed as she jumped up and down, dancing to the music. I shot my eyes at Brad in time to see his wide eyes and slack jaw. He met my eyes and held up his cup. I nodded and giggled as he escaped the noise and nearly ran to the concession stand.

Finally, I allowed my eyes to fall on Jake. Although I was too far away to see any details, every movement was achingly familiar. My heart twisted in an effort to free itself from my body and run to him. My breath came hard and heavy.

I missed him.

Tears burned the backs of my eyes as I stared at the stage, watching as he placed his mouth so close to the microphone as he belted out the lyrics in that sexy, raspy voice. The women in the place went nuts, bringing about old feelings of jealousy. But he wasn’t mine – not anymore.

The song finished as Brad returned with drinks. He passed them down before starting to take his seat. I shook my head, halting his actions, as I nodded at the crowd around them. A flash of irritation crossed his face as it occurred to him that he was going to have to stand.

As the concert plunged forward, I had to agree with the magazine article: The new stuff was more mature than the older stuff. My shoulders relaxed as I enjoyed the show, swimming in the amazing music.

Then it happened.

The music slowed as the band played the song Jake had written about the night we’d met. I sipped my beer, hoping that each swallow would push the tears back. I managed to get through the song when another started, a new one, one about lost love and being sorry and wishing harsh words could be taken back. It was like a love letter. And I had no doubt whatsoever that it was for me.

I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t sit there and pretend to be fine. The tears weren’t going to cooperate for much longer. I had to get away.

“Are you okay?” Jenny shouted in my ear. I couldn’t even shake my head. She grabbed my hand and pushed past Kevin and Brad, telling them we were going to the bathroom.

Once we made it to the ladies room, I released her hand and gripped the sink. Only a few women were in there but I wished they’d all leave.

“Are you okay, Isabella?” Jenny asked, her brown eyes filled with concern.

“Yeah. Thanks,” I said as I splashed water on my face and blotted it dry with a paper towel.

“That song reminds you of an old boyfriend, huh?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “It does.”

“Does Brad know about this old flame?”

“No, and I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention this,” I said, trying not to beg.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, offering me a quick hug. “Men don’t need to know everything about us. And it’s an old boyfriend, nothing he has to worry about.”

She didn’t know how right she was.

“Thanks, Jenny,” I said, feeling as if I finally had a friend again.

“Are you ready to go back? I think the show is about over.”

I nodded and followed her back to the seats. Brad had retrieved another round of drinks so I had a fresh one waiting for me.

The show ended about twenty minutes later, thankfully. We shuffled into the crowd, following the flow to the lower level, gradually taking me to my sweet escape.

But that irony with the sense of humor has a good friend – bad luck.

“So, Jenny had a birthday last week,” Kevin said when we made it to the lobby. With a smug grin on his face, he reached into his back pocket to produce an envelope. My heart stopped, ready to bolt.

I prayed it was anything but what I thought it was.

My prayers were in vain.

“Uncle George was lucky enough to hook me up with these,” he said, pulling four passes out of the envelope.

Jenny shrieked in delight as Brad shot a questioning look my way. I pretended not to see it as I watched Kevin hand Jenny the Meet and Greet Pass.

My brain did double time trying to think of an excuse not to stick around, but came up blank. Everything that even seemed like a possible explanation would easily be shot down by Brad. And he would in no way want to offend or insult George Tharpe’s nephew.

I had one last hope, though. I knew, from hanging out with the band all those years ago, that they couldn’t always meet with everyone who had a pass. All I could do was hang onto that thread of possibility that we’d be near the end of the line and not able to get backstage. Guilt hit me as I knew Jenny would be disappointed, but I’d make it up to her in some anonymous way. I just couldn’t be that close to Jake again.

As we stood in the waiting area, my heart relaxed with every minute that passed. Certainly we wouldn’t make it as there were quite a few people in front of us.

Poor Jenny kept looking at the door, waiting for our turn. I tried not to look at her.

“So, Isabella,” she said, making small talk. “Your name is so pretty. Do people call you anything for short?”

“Well, my dad calls me Belle,” I explained. “But my friends usually call me Bella or … “

“Iz? Oh my goodness! Is that really you?”

Three

My heart flew to my throat, dancing at the sound of the voice. I turned, slowly, to come face to face with a dark haired beauty.

“Greta!” I exclaimed as she hurried to embrace me.

“It’s so good to see you again,” she said, drawing back to grin at my face. Her smile faltered when she noticed the curious group with me. “Um, have you seen anyone, um, yet?”

I shook my head, doing my best to plead with my eyes. I didn’t want to see anyone.

“Well, you don’t have to stand here,” she said, oblivious to my distress. “I’ll take you back.”

Jenny concealed a shriek – quivering instead. There was no way out of it this time. Sucking in a breath, I followed her around the crowd and to the door.

“Who are your friends?” she asked as she used a keycard to unlock the door.

“This is Kevin and Jenny Tharpe,” I said, pointing over my shoulder. Brad moved closer to my side. “And this is my fiancé, Brad Stanich.”

Greta glanced over her shoulder, lifting a brow. “Oh, you’re engaged. Congratulations.”

Her voice held no warmth or sincerity whatsoever but I didn’t think that Brad noticed. He was too busy whispering in my ear.

“Who is this woman?” he asked, clutching my arm and slowing, allowing Kevin and Jenny to move in front of us.

“Greta,” I said. “I knew her when I was in high school.”

We walked through another door and found ourselves in a long, dimly lit hall. Voices filtered toward us from some room that must have been at the end of the hall. My heart picked up an extra beat or two.

“Hey, idiots,” Greta called, startling me. “Look what I found.”

I held my breath, totally aware of Brad’s narrowed eyes on me.

“It better be food, Greta, I’m starved.”

I knew that voice.

Greta reached through Kevin and Jenny to yank me forward, presenting me like a medal to an athlete.

“Holy hell, it’s Iz!” Ronnie Stone shouted as he strode forward to wrap me in a hug that lifted me off my feet. My head spun as my heart burst with joy. As soon as he set me down, another pair of arms wound around me in an affectionate embrace. Turning in those arms, my heart thrilled to see Matt Wenslow.

“How are you, Iz?” he asked.

“Great, Matt, and you?”

“Pretty good,” he said with a familiar smile that made my heart ache.

I was suddenly aware of Brad behind me – and not by any noise or words. Tension, like thick fog, rolled off of him, enveloping me.

“Oh, these are my friends,” I said, pointing over my shoulder. “Kevin and Jenny Tharpe. And my fiancé, Brad Stanich.”

Ronnie and Matt exchanged a quick glance before reaching past me to shake hands with everyone. Greta rolled to the balls of her feet, smiling as she clutched an electronic tablet.

“Have you seen, um, anyone else yet?” Matt asked.

I shook my head, bile blazing in my throat.

“Can you two take her?” Greta asked. “I have to find out where the food is.”

“You do that, Greta,” Ronnie said, taking me by the arm. “We’ll take Iz.”

Stumbling, I had no choice but to follow. The energy behind me was a swirling mixture; part excitement and part tense anger. This would not be fun.

Ignoring the irritated little noises emitting from Brad’s mouth, I plodded after Ronnie and Matt, trying not to think about facing Jake again.

But there he was.

The hall ended at a spacious room with a buffet waiting for food, several tables, and quite a few people milling about, congratulating each other on a great show.

I was sure that I’d recognize a few if I took a second to look at them, but my eyes were more interested in the man sitting at a far table, a pretty blonde wrapped around his arm.

Sucking in a breath, I concentrated on Nick Collins, sitting atop the table, drumming on the back of a chair. He hadn’t changed much and just the sight of him brought back feelings of comfort and warmth. How I’d leaned on him during those dark days.

“Hey, check this out!” Ronnie shouted, shoving me in front of him.

Nick’s jaw fell as his drumsticks clattered to the floor. He hopped off the table and ran, pulling me to his chest. Closing my eyes, I inhaled and the scent retrieved memories like a home movie.

“I’ve missed you, Iz,” he whispered, giving me an extra squeeze. Grinning, he released me, his green eyes shining. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I said, focusing on his face and not the man walking around the table. “How about you? You guys sounded great.”

Before he could answer, Jake appeared next to him, arms crossed over his chest, ugly smirk on his lips.

“Well, what do you know – Iz has returned.”

My heart fell to my feet. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected but it wasn’t this.

“How are you, Jake?” I asked, searching his face. He was a bit skinnier than I remembered and his face was etched with a couple of lines, but he still looked beautiful to me.

His smirk softened as he took me in his arms. The dam in my heart, holding back my emotions, threatened to break but luckily it was made of strong stuff. It held.

So many nights I’d spent wrapped up in him. So many times he’d held me. And I remembered every single one in that instant.

“These are my friends, Kevin and Jenny, and my fiancé, Brad Stanich,” I said, wiggling away from him.

“Engaged, huh?” he asked when he let me go to shake Brad’s hand. “Congratulations. I bet we could scare up some champagne and have a toast.”

“That’s not necessary,” I said as I inched back to stand beside Brad. “Really. But thanks.”

“Why don’t we have a seat?” Nick suggested, pointing at the long table where the blonde still sat.

Jenny practically skipped, holding tight to Kevin’s hand, and settled in a chair. Jake shuffled to the other side, taking his place next to the girl while Nick sat at the head. I dropped into the chair on his right with Brad immediately next to me, Ronnie and Matt filling in the other spots.

Brad draped a possessive arm over the back of my chair. “So, how do you know each other?”

His tone was clipped and polite. He was not happy.

Something flashed in Nick’s eyes. “We met when Iz was in high school.”

“Actually,” Jake said, leaning back in his chair. His blonde placed a hand on his thigh. “I met Iz first and then introduced her to the rest of the band. It’s a really funny story.”

“How did you meet?” Jenny asked, leaning over the table, eager to slurp up every word.

“He carjacked me,” I muttered.

Chuckling, Jake’s eyes met mine. “You had total control of the car.”

“Still…” I said.

“How are your parents?” Nick asked, turning toward me, cutting off Jake.

“Good,” I said as two young men brought over bottles of water and beer. I snatched a beer, lifting a challenging eye at Jake. His smirk returned as he reached for a bottle of water and thanked the young men.