by Tess Keeler
“All done,” she cheered, urging me to look in the mirror she had propped against her wall.
I looked fake and not myself, but most importantly, I looked hot. It wasn’t that I had dreamt of Nixon being a reality for me (outside of the bedroom), but when he was with me, there was this electricity I couldn’t name.
“He’s not going to know what hit him,” she purred at me. She was always encouraging.
I smiled before thanking her. She waved me off and started doing her own thing. After noticing the time on her cable box, I walked over to my phone. We had an hour before the doors opened. I picked up the iPhone plus and looked at the number on my screen. It was a text. Sliding my thumb over it, I watched as it took over the screen.
I hope you don’t mind. I got your number from Blake.
My mouth curved into a smile almost painful as I let my thumbs hover over my keyboard. Nixon?
His response was almost immediate, and it made me warm all over. Good guess. ;)
One little wink and I was melting.
“Who are you texting?” The shrill tone of Grace’s voice surprised me, her eyes already on the screen. How did she move so fast? She started fanning herself, her lips parting to produce words she couldn’t currently locate. I was watching her begin to hyperventilate.
With a hand on her bicep, I blew into her face, “Breathe, Gracie.”
Shock was the only way to describe her features. She stared at me like I should understand why she was freaking out so bad. “Nixon Brooks is texting you…”
“He is,” I stated confidently. More confidently than my shaking bones. Why was he texting me?
My phone shook in my hand as he sent another one: I hope it’s okay that I texted you.
“What are you waiting for? Text him back.” She was holding onto my arm, her face mostly finished.
“I’m waiting for you to leave.”
She stuck her tongue out at me and moved back over to the mirror. She was mumbling something about me being ungrateful. I rolled my eyes at her. She would be over it in a second.
Of course it’s okay. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your show? Meet and greets or something?
I sat down on Grace’s worn down comforter and laid back against her pillow. It wasn’t soft in the way I enjoyed, but it was fine enough. I really didn’t care, honestly. I was just relaxing while she took her sweet ass time. I placed my phone against my thigh, but it dinged almost immediately.
Maybe. But I had such a great time last night… I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I was swooning. The full body tingling I experienced next to him made an appearance once again, and it took all I had not to grin like an idiot at my phone. Before I replied, I opened my pictures and looked over our selfie. He was really cute. His dark hair was just long enough to leave one curl hanging over his forehead. His eyes weren’t green or brown, but a perfect blend of both stunning colors. I loved the bulb shape of his nose and his full lips. Not to mention the cute little dent in the center of his chin…
I released a shaky exhale and moved back to my messages. I had a great time, too. I’m almost embarrassed by my seats tonight.
Why? Where are you sitting? If you don’t mind me asking.
I pressed my lips together as I contemplated letting him find out on his own. I didn’t want to play hard to get. The organic foundation was already laid, and I wanted to build on that original honesty between us. Front and center.
So, I get to see you again sooner than I thought? Nice. ;)
How did you score those tickets?
I thought about sending him the picture, to let him see me again. Instead, I gave in to how easy it was to flirt with him. It wasn’t something I did a lot, but I could try. In my way.
I guess so. ;)
Pre-sale. First in line. I owed Grace big time for ditching her on her birthday to explore the Grand Canyon.
Pre-sale? Fan club?
Thank you for bailing on Grace. Totally a win for me.
I should have been focusing on the fact that he called seeing me in the front row a win. Being the girl I am, I worried about being in his fan club. Was it weird to talk to a girl who had been in the fan club since the beginning? Who had been to every show? He knew I was frequent at his shows, and he was still texting me. I took a deep breath and responded:
Fan club. Does that scare you?
Is it now? I think it’s more of a win for me…
“I’m almost ready,” Grace called out, and I rolled my eyes. It would be another thirty minutes at least. She was a stereotype. It was okay, though. I wasn’t too worried about getting there before Nixon, because well, I was already talking to him.
No. Should it?
We can both win… we can call this an agreement to disagree?
I was becoming less anxious about overthinking my responses. I let my fingers go, responding as if he were right in front of me.
I don’t think so. I’m not too crazy. ;P
Deal.
Do you leave immediately after your show tonight?
“What is he talking about?” Grace asked from the bathroom. I barely looked up before watching the ellipsis dance on the screen.
Our bus call is at 1am. :(
I wet my lips as I stared at his words. “I don’t know. I’m pretty sure he’s flirting with me.”
That’s plenty of time.
“He’s what?!” she screeched.
Plenty of time for what?
I wished I could see his face. I imagined the way it lit up the night before, when he was interested in my life, and I hoped it was how he was looking at his phone right now. The stomping of Grace’s feet echoed around in the room, her too large combat boots beating into the ground the entire way to me. She was looking over my phone, almost preventing me from saying my bravest thing yet.
An adventure.
What do you say?
“Oh my god,” Grace whispered, finally catching up to where we were.
Consider me intrigued. I’m in.
“Oh my god,” I repeated, not believing in a million years he would give in that easily.
I’ll meet you at your bus?
My brain was racking for the best places to explore in Kansas City. Although I liked to travel outside the city limits, there were still some things I enjoyed about home. Great food and night sky views lifted high above the city—or close enough.
You’ll need a pass. I’ll leave you one at the box office.
“Are you going to mad if I bail afterward?” I asked, looking up from the bright screen to her beautiful smoky eyes. They were almost identical to mine.
“Seriously? You’re going to hang out with the hottest musician of our time, and you’re worried I’ll be upset?”
I looked over suspiciously because she was known to blow things out of proportion. “Yeah,” I said dryly.
“Girl,” she started, shaking her head. “Maybe I can finally hook up with that cute English guy while you’re gone.”
The night before, at the bar, was something I had been dreading. When I was home, Grace expected me to go out with her. She always said I had been spending too little time with people—that I was going to end up alone. I didn’t want to upset her by blowing her off, even though I would prefer to spend my time doing something more productive for my blog or watching Netflix with her.
When Nixon and Mason showed up, my entire night turned around. Grace still got the attention that she wanted, and I got to have a stimulating conversation with one of the most down to earth people I had ever met. And now, we were both getting an opportunity to pick up where we left off.
Sounds great. I’ll see you soon.
“Send a wink!” she encouraged, and I pursed my lips into a pout. It was tempting, but I didn’t want to push my luck. By the time I had decided to do so, he had already responded.
Until then.
It wasn’t terribly long before I had a pass tucked away in my pocket, Grace still excitedly clinging to my
arm as we showed our wristbands to the floor security. The opener was already playing as we maneuvered our way to the front row. We were going to be in his direct line of sight, and I couldn’t wait for our eyes to meet again.
I sipped at the beer in my hand, trying not to spill it as we snuck through the already enthralled crowd. A few signs stabbed me along the way, people already swaying and singing along with the loud song coming from the speakers. It was always a better experience up close. Everyone was excited for the music. The people in the back always just sat around until Nixon was on. Boring.
“This is our last song! Thanks, Kansas City!”
The crowd roared before the words were even out. Grace and I held up our beers once we were standing in the right place, looking over the young band he had chosen to accompany him. They sounded good. I tried to lose myself in their song.
I loved music—it had always been a drive and passion in my life. I did some choir throughout middle school and left it for some musical theatre in high school, but creating the music wasn’t what inspired me. I was inspired by feeling other people as they sang. The raw emotion and the stories they shared in about three minutes still surprised me to this day. Giving every artist a chance to win me over was only fair; they were just telling me their story.
The band finished off with a large cheer, and then the lights were on. I was staring all of these fans in the face as I looked around, feeling a little out of place. I never fit in with the front row crowd—the diehard fangirls. It wasn’t my vibe, but Grace fit the category.
“I think I can see him,” she whispered to me, looking beyond the bodies removing equipment from the stage.
I didn’t respond to her, nor did I follow her gaze. I swiped open the camera on my phone and held it up, pushing myself closer to her. The camera always activated the most beautiful smile out of Grace, and it stopped her from trying to creep on him. I was going to send him the picture anyway.
“Are you sending it to him?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes at her and looked down at it. It was perfect. “Maybe.”
I opened our texts and inserted the picture. I watched my cursor blink in the text box. Don’t be annoying, Harper.
Break a leg.
The bubbles were there immediately, and I swore he must be always looking at his phone.
Thanks. You look like you’re having fun, by the way. ;)
Grace had started talking to the girl next to her. I could hear them talking about songs they were most excited about. I looked up and tried to locate him the darkness. I couldn’t see him. I don’t know how Grace saw anything back there.
My lips twitched as I responded to him.
Watching me, huh?
The chatter was getting louder around me, and I just wished it was time for him to come out already. I was ready to see him; I almost needed it for all of this to be confirmed real. It felt like a dream.
Hey, I came out to support my opening band. It’s not my fault you’re in front row center.
I barked out a laugh.
Mhm. ;)
As I stared at his text, waiting for the ellipsis to pop up, everything went dark and everyone began to scream. I locked my phone and shoved it into my pocket. As the lights began to shine out from his stage all over the arena, I chugged my beer, wanting the cup to be gone. Grace interlocked our fingers and squeezed my hand. She could barely contain herself as the floor to the stage opened up and he walked out, right up to the mic that we were in front of. Because of security and the gate, he was not reachable, but that made it easier to make eye contact with him.
“How’s everyone doing tonight?” he asked, already strumming the intro to one of his most popular songs.
The crowd went nuts, and he looked over the entirety of the crowd before meeting my gaze. That’s when he began to sing, his eyebrow lifting on one side and his smile so wide. I chewed on my lip until he forced his gaze around the room. It felt like he was physically pulled away from me by doing so, and I couldn’t believe the goosebumps it left on my skin.
He made eyes at me throughout the entire show, more so than he has at any other show—maybe I was just a pretty face in the crowd then. Now, I was someone he knew.
I wasn’t afraid to sing along with him. Hell, it made his smile even bigger at times.
After his encore, he ran off stage and Grace and I shared a moment. We looked into each other’s eyes, and we knew this was real. Nixon Brooks wasn’t Nixon Brooks to me anymore.
Grace didn’t stick around to give Mason another shot. She told me that it was my night to shine. For that, I almost hit her.
She got an Uber home and told me to take care of her car and to be safe. She left me with a wink, and I shoved her off for good.
I clipped his pass to my hip and took a deep breath as my eyes found the mob of people waiting at the gate that I needed to get through. I didn’t want to ask the man sitting very bored near the desperate fans which bus was his, because that wasn’t something Nixon needed. Instead, I texted Nixon myself.
Which bus is yours?
Did he shower after the show? Was he ready for me yet?
Dark blue with gold accents.
I saw Blake standing outside the bus Nixon described, and I wondered if they shared the same one. Looking over my brother, I noticed he had abandoned the swoop his brown hair had usually been in. It was cleaner, but I did see a mess of facial hair around his mouth. When was the last time I saw Blake? Christmas?
I’m going to get the car. When should you be ready?
I’m getting dressed now, so not long. :)
I tried not to think about him texting me while he was naked; everyone had seen him almost bare. It was a damn good sight. I shook it off and walked with purpose to Grace’s 2010 blue Ford Focus. It was a few blocks away, but it gave him some time to get out and around all those people. When I pulled up to the gate, he was talking with his fans, smiling and taking pictures. I felt my body warm up; I had this feeling that he purposely avoided sneaking around. He had a good reputation for treating his fans right.
The black skinny jeans he was wearing had been replaced with another pair of black skinny jeans. He had a sleeveless white shirt tucked into the waistband, showing off every curve of the muscles I had tried not to think about ten minutes prior.
I rested my hand on the wheel and my chin on my hand, just watching him interact with all of the people who supported him. I had two hours before he had to leave, but I wasn’t going to rush him. I was lucky he was willing to get in a car with me alone. I didn’t know if he trusted me because I was his manager’s sister or if he just trusted me.
Mason appeared out of nowhere, whispering in Nixon’s ear. I saw him motioning toward me with his head, but neither of them dared to look at me. That would give us away. Maybe he would play me off as his ride.
I wish.
He was waving to all of them, the most apologetic pout on his face. Mason escorted him to me, and I caught Blake’s hands in the air in the distance. He obviously didn’t know Nixon’s plans.
The energy in the car changed as soon as the door opened and he slipped into the seat, his hair still wet. His height made the car look smaller—feel smaller. Mason peeked his head in and gave me a lopsided grin.
“Have fun.”
I switched gears as soon as the door shut, getting him away from the heartbroken crowd he left behind. I knew the city like the back of my hand, and I decided I would take him to two of my favorite places.
“Hi,” he said finally, so soft and cute.
My cheeks lifted as I smiled, looking over to see him watching me. His eyes were so curious.
“Hi.” My eyelashes were batting over my eyes before I realized I was doing it, and I turned back to face the white lines blurring past us. “Are you hungry?”
“Starved,” he said, and I noticed him cover his stomach with his large hand. “It’s ridiculous how hungry I am after shows.”
He was so energetic during his shows, so h
im being hungry didn’t surprise me one bit. I was actually counting on it.
“Did you have fun?” he asked.
I bit down on my bottom lip, trying not to give off exactly how much I had enjoyed him singing to me most of the concert. “Best night of my life.”
He was silent, but I could feel him smiling. That was crazy, right? After a few moments, he asked me where we were going.
“I was going to take you to my favorite fast food place. Is that okay?” I asked him, now that I was merely minutes from the best taco place in KC.
“That’s fine. I’m along for the adventure.”
His hands were in his lap, not trying to make a move at all. He had been flirting with me all night, but I wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted from me. My stomach was turning as I thought about knowing what he was thinking about.
Was he as nervous as I was?
We both got deep fried tacos to go, but I encouraged him to eat on the way to our next destination. As the driver, it was a little more difficult, but I tried not to ruin my dark blue jeans and sheer black top. I had a friend who worked for one of the biggest social venues in downtown, and she had agreed to let me have the rooftop terrace for a blog post I was writing. What she didn’t know wouldn’t kill her. If she would have known who I was taking up there, she wouldn’t have handed me the keys. She would have been there to greet us and ruin my entire plan.
The custodial staff would be there until two in the morning, so I didn’t have to worry about any alarms. She gave me an ID badge for the occasion, just in case. I parked directly in front of the tall building, still partially lit up. He was balling up his trash and putting it in the bag near his legs when I looked over at him. He sweetly took my trash, too. I’m pretty sure I was blushing, which was dumb really. It was just trash.
