He studies my face, a furrow of concern wrinkling his forehead in the most adorable way. “Are you sure? You’re not upset?”
“No. I mean yes.” Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers and take a breath before looking at him again. He’s staring at me like I’m a fascinating creature, a lopsided smile on his face. “Yes, I’m sure. No, I’m not upset.” And to prove it, I close the few inches between us and kiss him. Here in the greenroom in front of everyone.
His hand immediately goes behind my neck, and he holds my head in place as he takes over the kiss, tasting me like we have all the time in the world. Like we don’t have an audience. Like he doesn’t have fans waiting to meet him in less than an hour and a long concert to perform right after that followed by more fan meetings immediately after.
Like I’m the only thing that matters.
And despite the warnings from Blaire, the inadvertent advice from Kelsey, and my own desire to keep myself safe, being the only thing that matters to Mason is a heady experience.
And I’m not sure anything else will ever measure up.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Mason
The show goes better than any of us could’ve expected. The crowd was on its feet almost the entire time. I feel better than ever, riding the high of an awesome show plus not quite as tired as normal since we shared the stage with Beckett.
We file into the greenroom, voices loud as we relive the best moments already. “That was epic,” Marcus declares, turning to encompass all of us and Beckett. He holds out a hand to Beckett. “Thanks for working with us, man. I still can’t believe it’s happening, but this has got to be one of the best parts of this business.”
Shaking Marcus’s hand, Beckett laughs. “Hey, I’m glad you guys said yes. Things were getting pretty grim for me for a while there. This collaboration is giving me life.”
“You guys are amazing together,” says Blaire as she crosses the room and slides into Beckett’s side, fitting perfectly against him.
Beckett turns a smile on her, his face lit up with happiness as he tips her chin up and kisses her.
Then Viola’s there, passing water bottles to each of us, saving me for last. And I find myself imitating Beckett—putting an arm around Viola to pull her close then tipping her face up to give her a kiss.
She kisses me back without hesitation, and the freedom to be able to touch her, kiss her, claim her in front of everyone is the only thing that could make this night any better.
When she ends the kiss and pulls back, she grins up at me. “Blaire’s right. You guys were awesome tonight. Congrats on a great show.”
“Thank you,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. And I kiss her again. Because I can.
She keeps it even shorter this time, though, ducking out of my grasp with a grin. “You guys have a whole bunch of fans waiting for you already. Grab whatever you need quickly, because the longer you wait to get started, the later it’ll be before you get back to the hotel.”
A chuckle ripples through us, and I flash Viola a heated look. I definitely don’t want to take longer than necessary to get back to the hotel.
Performing is an adrenaline rush. And one of the side effects is horniness. Now that I have a stable way to relieve that, I’m happy to indulge as often as possible.
Given that everyone else is in a long-term relationship, I’d hazard a guess that I’m not alone in that feeling.
While we’re all gearing up for a few more hours of fan interaction, Blaire sidles up to my side. “So you and Viola, huh?”
Tearing open a package of trail mix, I glance at her out of the corner of my eye and shrug. “Yup.” If she wants to go digging, she’ll have to do better than that.
“Why her?” she asks after a long moment.
Straightening my shoulders, I meet her blue eyes. Surprisingly, they’re filled with concern rather than judgment or consternation. I have to blink a few times to reformulate the angry, defensive reaction that immediately jumped to my tongue.
“I like her,” I say simply, breaking eye contact with Blaire to seek Viola out. She’s flitting around the room, making sure everyone has everything they need, stocking up her bag with refills for while we’re doing the meet and greets so she doesn’t have to leave the room. Always ready, always on hand to help us out as much as possible. She doesn’t have Blaire’s control-freak tendencies or her need to bust everyone’s balls, but she’s just as competent and on top of everyone’s shit. She’s sweet. Kind to everyone. Her laughter rings out over the sounds of conversation as she and Kelsey talk.
“I see,” says Blaire, something like grudging understanding clear in her tone. “It’s like that.”
Wiping the dopey grin off my face, I return my attention to her and clear my throat. “Yeah. It’s like that.”
She pats my arm. “Good for you.” Then she steps closer and lowers her voice so that we can’t be overheard. “Just so long as you realize that if you hurt my cousin, I’ll be on the first flight to wherever you are to rip your balls off and turn them into earrings.”
And she’s gone before I can even formulate a response. Shaking my head, I just smile to myself. I know everyone’s worried I’m going to do something to hurt Viola, but right now all I care about is getting through the next few hours so that I can make Viola feel amazing.
As much as I love interacting with fans—and I do because there’s something about meeting someone who’s just so excited to get to talk
