stage I become. It’s not like I can help it—it’s in my blood. Even though the girls are probably right about Lane being pissed, I still want to be front and center, just like I’ve been for every concert I’ve ever been to.
When I’m positive they only have a couple songs left in their set, I decide it’s go time. I tell Lark, “I have to pee. I’ll be right back,” not even waiting to see if she wants to come with me.
If what Lark said about security is true, I don’t bother trying to get by them. Tapping Reed on his beefed-up bicep, I pull him into the hallway away from everyone else. “What’s up?” he asks, in a voice so deep I start to rethink my plans.
“I need you to get me in the first row—and no, I’m not going to change my mind.”
“They warned me about you.”
“Who did?” I ask with my hands on my hips, surprised I have a reputation already.
“Lane won’t like this.”
“But I will, Reed. Don’t you want to make me happy?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. I can see the wheels turning inside—he’s torn. “You’re trouble.”
“I promise I’ll take the blame. I won’t let anyone get mad at you.”
Reed’s face softens the longer we talk, but time’s working against me. The longer I’m standing in this hallway trying to convince him to take a chance, the less time I’ll have to watch the show. Finally, I resort to begging. “Please, Reed. I’ll do whatever you say.”
With his face stone-cold, he says, “You’ll go where I tell you to. And you’ll leave when I say it’s time. I can’t keep you safe if you don’t listen.”
“Deal!”
He leads me farther down the hallway to a different set of elevators than the ones we came up in. When the doors open, we’re on the lowest level, the sounds of Lane’s drums so powerful I can feel each beat in the pit of my stomach. This is how a show should be—the music so intense each beat punches you in the face.
Reed takes me exactly where I want to go, only on the other side of the barrier where nobody else is allowed to be. It’s even more amazing than I imagined once I catch a glimpse of Lane on the platform with his drum set, suspended a few feet above the rest of the band.
“This is as good as it gets, Noelle. You can go anywhere up front, but stay on this side of the barrier or you’ll get crushed. The guys in the yellow shirts won’t let anyone else over, so don’t even try it if anyone begs.”
“This is perfect, Reed! Thank you.”
All I get is a simple nod, the smile I got upstairs long gone. With him trailing behind me, I dance my way to center stage, my eyes focused on Lane’s sweaty skin. Somewhere between leaving the box and here, he shed his black T-shirt, leaving his muscles on full display. He may not have a lot of ink, but what he lacks in body art he makes up with pure muscle.
He doesn’t spot me right away, but Easton does. The moment he turns around and nods toward where I’m standing, Lane’s eyes follow, eventually landing right on me.
He looks up at the box where I’m supposed to be and back down, silently asking me what the hell I’m doing down here. I give him a big smile as I twirl in a circle, my hands in the air and my body keeping time with the music. Clearly, this is the only way to experience Midnight Fate, but so he doesn’t worry, I point to Reed a couple feet away, giving him the thumbs-up that I’m safe.
That’s enough to ease his mind, and his eyes close again as he gets lost in a new song. Each time he opens them, it’s not the crowd he’s looking at anymore—it’s me. We dance with each other, the show becoming our own personal conversation of how much I want him and how much he wants me.
The only thing powerful enough to interrupt our connection is the sound of fire alarms going off all around us. The band plays a few more seconds before they stop, looking toward security for answers. When they tell them to clear the stage, pushing them out the back,