Page 35 of Faking Ties

“But if I take the plane, that means you’ll have to spend the night here in LA.”

“So? Just get me a hotel room.” It makes more sense to stay here for the next three days of shows rather than fly back and forth across the country multiple times.

“If you’re sure…”

“Yes,” I say. “Now go and let me know how she is.”

“I’ll arrange everything for you here. I… Thank you.”

I nod and am guided back to the stage. With Kai gone, I’ll be able to just focus on the fans and Hunter. Relief fills me and I’m finally able to relax enough to enjoy the rest of the show.

Performing is such an intoxicating experience. It’s like the boundary between the audience and me blurs, and we all become one, bound together by every note I sing. It’s a confession, a whispered secret, shared intimately with every heart that beats in unison in the crowd.

I get why Stella does this if this is the feeling she gets when she performs. The energy carries methrough the rest of the show with ease. Not once do I pass out or throw up. All those hours of pain in bootcamp were worth it to feel this way and to make the fans happy. When the final note rings out, I exit the stage and Brian points me down a path to where Hunter is. I spot him, striding toward me with an intensity I’m starting to think is just who Hunter is. I run to him, making it dramatic for the people watching us, and he lifts me into his arms and twirls me around.

“You’re so fucking talented,” he says, setting me down and brushing his lips across mine. It’s a kiss that’s just for show as the weight of people videoing us presses into my back.

“Thank you,” I say, but I don’t believe his words. I might be proud of myself for making it through tonight, for pulling it off. But at the same time, I’m not Stella. I’m not talented like her, and he’s complimenting her. Not me.

Brian leads us back to my dressing room where I immediately head to shower off all the sweat matting my hair and coating my body. I thought I’d be exhausted, but, instead, I’m exhilarated. Energy buzzes through me as I get ready in the black crop top and black pants Rachel packed for me.

When Hunter sees me, he lets out a low whistle and rubs a hand over his mouth. “You’re magnificent.”

“And I love that you’re wearing jeggings again,” I say with a laugh.

“I broke them out for you since you loved them the first time.”

“I’m honored.” I’m not sure how it’s possible he can look hot in the black jeggings, but he does. It fits the bad-boy vibe he’s perfected. “Do you know the plan for tonight?”

“Apparently, there’s some bar on the Sunset Strip that caters to celebrities.”

Hunter flanks me, as well as multiple bodyguards, while we get into a black car. Everyone’s silent during the drive, but Hunter grabs my hand and holds it in his. Eventually, we pull up to…a hotel?

“What are we doing here?” I ask.

“You’ll both be spending the night here,” Brian says. “Security is tight, and the bar is where you’ll go for your drink. Do you want to go to the room or bar first?”

“We’ll head to the bar first and then our room,” Hunter says confidently. It’s sexy that he’s taking charge, but it doesn’t escape my notice that he saidroom. Singular. I’m hoping it was a mistake and that we’ll be in separate rooms. Sure, we have this intense chemistry between us, but hooking up with him is a complication no one needs.

Hunter leads me through the bar with two of the bodyguards. It’s cozy, with red lanterns hanging from the ceiling and small lamps on each table. Every table is taken except for the one reserved for us in the back corner. My bodyguards take their position near us andsurvey the room. There’s no VIP room for us tonight, not when we want to be photographed.

And photographed we are. Multiple people already have their phones out and pointed in our direction by the time we sit side by side in our seats.

“This isn’t awkward at all,” I say.

“Which part? The one where we’re forced to show our face here or share a room?”

“We’re sharing a room?” I scan his face, waiting for a smile or some hint that he’s joking.

“Is that a problem?”

I swallow down a mouthful of the champagne that just arrived. “No. Nope. Not at all.” How the hell am I going to handle this?

“You’re a shit liar.”

My laugh has a hysterical edge to it. If only he knew the half of what I’m lying about. “I know.”

“You were fantastic on stage.” He takes my hand in his. “Thanks for honoring me with a song.”

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