Save a Prayer by Karen Booth Read Free Book Online Page B

the side of her face with my hand, sweeping my thumb across her velvety cheek, desperately wanting her to press into me. She gripped my arm, pulling herself closer. The lower half of my body tightened in response, blood racing, reminding me exactly what she did to me. Another few seconds and I’d really lose all sense of time and place. Being wound up before a show was a good thing, but that was going to make it impossible to think, let alone perform. I had no choice, but to slow things down.
    I wrenched my lips from hers. It hurt like absolute hell to do it.
    Angie looked down at the ground and smoothed her hair, collecting herself. "Right then. There's your kiss."
    Did she not feel the earth move, too? I rarely had a bruised ego, but I’d hoped for more positive feedback. Maybe a conversation about wonderful it had been. I would’ve been much happier with, “Oh, Graham, that was lovely. I’ve missed you so much.”
    "Did you like it?” I asked. “It seemed like you did."
    "It was nice, all right? Kissing you is always nice. Now let's go find Reggie so I can ask him where he thinks I should watch your set. You can get to your rock star duties, whatever those might be." She stood and brushed dirt and grass from the back of her short red dress. The way the sun filtered through her hair was like light through a prism. Why did every last thing about her have to be so beautiful? How could she make the world stop spinning with a single kiss?
    She started back and I had to rush to catch up to her. It was clear her mind was on work and not on that kiss, or me, or the fact that I'd essentially asked her to marry me. Had the kiss only been nice? She'd seemed like the old Angie when we’d kissed, as passionate as I'd remembered, but perhaps she'd been putting on her own sort of show, all to get me to back off.
    We strolled back to the Banks trailer and climbed the stairs inside. The guys were all sitting around, Chris playing guitar, Terence playing cards with Reggie. Nigel was talking to one of our techs about why he'd been unable to hunt down the bass strings he preferred. Angie loaded her camera with a new roll of film and went to work. On the surface, everything was just fine. Inside, I was dying a slow death, and I couldn't let on. Not only did it seem unlikely that Angie and I would get back together, she didn't seem the slightest bit upset by the prospect.

Chapter Eight
    A ngie
    After several unfortunately dull hours backstage, during which I berated myself for kissing Graham, Reggie showed me to my place to watch the Banks set, up on the stage but off to the side in the wings. "You have everything you need, dear?"
    I nodded. "I do."
    "Good. Graham asked about you. He wanted to make sure you were okay. I'm not sure what you two talked about earlier, but it seems to be weighing on him. I hope everything is good between you two. Just tell me if he's being a prat and I'll get Chris to deal with him."
    "No. It's fine. We're fine. Just a long overdue conversation." And an almost-sorta proposal of marriage. And a kiss that I really wish I could forget.
    It was honestly the most bizarre talk I'd ever had with Graham and we'd been known to talk about some weird things. Maybe it was because it was the last thing I'd expected would happen during this trip. I'd spent the time since I got this assignment practicing what I would say if Graham had a new girlfriend or female companion. I'd just assumed that he would. It hadn't occurred to me that he might still care. Was he just lonely? Tired after months of touring? Perhaps he was at sixes and sevens, made crazy by months of being on the road. I thought about you every day. That seemed like a line. The only trouble was that Graham was not the sort of guy to deliver a line.
    Bloody hell. Why in the world did I kiss him? I'd known it was stupid as soon as I agreed to it, but I was too tempted by his lips, and the fact that we'd been alone.
    At least I finally had a moment to gather