Page 3 of So This Is Love

“No, I’m actually working tonight.”

“Me too.”

I crack a smile and roll my eyes. “You’re performing in front of a sold out crowd. I’m serving beers and nachos to pay for college before going home and doing homework. Not exactly the same line of work.”

“What are you in school for?”

“Marketing.”

“That’s amazing,” Sonny says with a smile. “Are you cold?”

“What?” I ask, confused by the question.

Sonny nods towards my arms. “You have goosebumps.”

“Oh yeah, I guess I am,” I say, rubbing my hand over my arm. “They keep the arena cold because of all the people.”

Sonny reaches over his head and begins to pull his hoodie off. The motion causes a small part of his stomach to be exposed, showing off the muscles and a small trail of hair that leads down to the waistband of his joggers. I avert my eyes and look down at my shoes, not wanting to get caught staring.

“Here take this,” he says, holding the hoodie out towards me.

I look at the hoodie and then back to his face, unsure whether he’s serious or not. Without the hoodie he’s left in just a plain white tee, but even in just the t-shirt and joggers I can’t deny that he’s attractive.

I open my mouth to decline but Sonny pushes the hoodie towards me again. “C’mon at least let me show you that I’m not always an asshole.”

I take the hoodie and hold it in my hands for a second, it's still warm from being on his body. Before I can think too deeply about what it means for this man to have given me his hoodie, I put my arms into the sleeves and pull the hoodie over my head. My nostrils fill with the scent of him, soap and cologne and something else that I can only describe as, man.

He offers me another smile, this one is bigger and reveals dimples in both of his cheeks . “So you’re still not gonna give me your name?”

“I’m sure you have more important things to do than stand around talking to a stranger.”

“You wouldn’t be a stranger if you gave me your name.”

“Laila. My name is Laila,” I concede.

He sticks a hand out to me. “Hi Laila, I’m Bryce.”

I take his hand shaking it. “Bryce?”

I expected him to use Sonny, the name he’s widely known as, not something so personal.

The door he came from opens and Bryan sticks his head out. If Bryan has any thoughts about Sonny being out here with a random girl he doesn’t let on. “Yo Sonny, we gotta get going.”

“I guess I’ll see you around Laila,” he says, backing up a few steps before turning around and heading towards Bryan. The door closing shut behind the both of them.

I take a second to process all that just happened. I look down at my phone and realize that I’m late.

“Shit.”

***

I check one more time to make sure my boss isn’t around before I leave from behind the counter of the concessions stand. I am supposed to be cleaning up after the crowds of people ordering concessions before, and during the show, but I want to catch a little bit of the performance. Something we definitely aren't supposed to do, but my coworkers do it anyway on occasion. I slide the black velvet curtain to the side and step into the arena. The arena is packed with people and clouded in a haze from the smoke machines and fireworks that go off around the stage. The combination of the music and crowd is deafening as Sonny performs one of his most popular songs. He’s standing in the middle of the stage wearing a White Sox jersey that hangs open showing a white tank underneath. Light wash jeans hang low on his hips and his outfit is completed with the pair of retro Jordan 1s on his feet.

Sonny’s stage presence is captivating. I can't bring myself to pull my eyes from him on the stage and I’m sure that everyone else in the building feels the same way. He moves around the stage fluidly and sensually, grasping the microphone in one hand, holding it out to the crowd periodically, encouraging them to sing along with him.

One of the backup dancers stops in front of him and the crowd goes crazy with cheers and applause. She makes a show of bending at the waist and pushing her ass into him and twerking as Sonny smiles and dances with her. I know that most women in this building would give anything to swap places with that dancer, and I would be lying if I said that it didn’t stir something within me too. When the song nears its end the music fades out and for a moment all that’s left is Sonny’s voice as he belts into the microphone and the audience joins in and sings the final words of the song with him.

The arena goes black signaling the end of the concert and the people around me begin to collect their things to leave. I turn around to go back to the concession stand saying a silent prayer hoping that Martin didn’t notice my absence. Before I make the few steps to go through the curtain that leads into the hallways the lights come back on to a dim deep blue.

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