Ripped (Real, #5)(81)
Like a sleepwalker, I take a step closer to the stage, not close enough to be seen, for he’s in the opposite corner, lost in his own world as he starts a slow and mournful verse.
You flick the candy cotton pink strand in your hair
And I pray to the gods that you’ll be there
In my dreams, fantasies, and nightmares
I’m so scared I’ll never see you again
His words start building with the music, now sounding hopeful.
And you can try hiding behind your anger
And I can try running away
But at night as I sleep, you come crashing in on me
And I’m scared, ’cos you’re the only girl for me
And a big instrumental climax joins in as he sings, louder this time.
You’re my girl
You’re my girl
Pandora, you’re my girl
I can’t ignore ya
I’ve always adored ya
Pandora
I implore ya
You’re the only girl for me
It’s written, it’s meant to be
You’re my girl
You’re my girl
Pandora, you’re my girl
Sky high, thigh-high leather, in all kinds of weather Tonight, now, then and forever
Come on over, my girl, sink your claws into me
I’m not scared, ’cos you’re the one and it’s meant to be
You’re my girl
You’re my girl
Pandora, you’re my girl
I can’t ignore ya
I’ve always adored ya
Pandora
I implore ya
You’re the only girl for me
It’s written, it’s meant to be
You’re my girl
You’re my girl
Pandora, you’re my girl
The rest sounds almost improvised, chaotic even, as the sound comes to an end.
I should never have dissed ya
Lied about how much I missed ya
I need your sexy fire in my life
No one else can hold a match
To the candle that’s you, you’re a catch
You make me mad
You drive me nuts
You fill my heart
And kick my guts
There’s nowhere I’d rather be
My vampire queen
Yelling, touching, kissing, f*cking Pandora, you’re my girl
When the song ends, there’s a beautiful silence while thousands and thousands of lighters shine in the darkness, the last verse echoing throughout the stadium.
Emotions tighten my windpipe to the point where it’s hard to breathe. This is why he wanted me here.
You think I’ll show up, you’ll sing to me, and we’ll live happily ever after?
That’s what I’m going for . . .
Happiness and love curl like partners in my tummy. I could be seventeen right now. I’m chronologically older and outwardly bitter, but inside, I’m still his girl.
The one who thought one day he’d come back to me.
The one who hoped that one day he’d realize it was a mistake to leave me.
I thought he didn’t want me, but he does. And now I fear this will all go away when he realizes what I did . . .
My throat is raw with unsaid words, my body heavy and warm. For a long moment, I feel as if I’m floating and in a trance, and as I watch Mackenna scan the crowd for me, my reaction is instant.
I shove through to one of the roadies. Without a word, he lets me in, and I run as fast as I can, hearing Lex’s shout up onstage, “All right, people, you heard the man,” the shout stirring the public into a roar. Breathing heavily, I stop at the side of the stage, and my guy—my guy—seems to be struggling to get back into himself. He just spilled his guts out in front of thousands of people, and I can see him still looking for me among the crowd.
I’m so frantic for him to see me. If I had a tomato, I’d send it crashing onto his face. His gorgeous, famous face I want to kiss.
I take a step forward onto the stage, when Lionel stops me. “He’s the worst kind of mess. Can you explain to me what the f*ck is going on?”
“Let me pass. Please. Please.”
“You going to kiss him?” he angrily demands.
“YES!”
A new song starts. A flicker of apprehension hits me when I see all the thousands of people out there, but it only fuels my determination.
Every light is shining on Mackenna as his vocals tear through the speakers. A dozen dancers start crowding him.
“Leo, move over!” I plead.
When Leo steps aside, I storm onto the stage. I don’t care how much I didn’t want to be here—now nothing will keep me from him. Not this stage, not Leo, not the lights or the fans or my mother or his father or me.
I feel the cameras follow my every step as I move forward, the lights from above suddenly shifting in my direction as I cross the stage. Mackenna’s legs are spread apart, his muscles bulging and thick, his ass tight in leather. He’s facing his fans, his vocals holding them in their grip when I press behind him. The moment my body makes contact with his, I feel his skin tighten as if he recognizes me. A hot knot builds in the middle of my throat. Tit’s and Liv’s hands trail sensually up his side, but when the girls see me, they pull their hands away and move to dance a few feet over.
I want to weep in gratitude when I realize they’re finally no longer my enemies. How could they be? They’re letting me take over.