Page 17 of Flag On The Play
Practice. Scrimmages. Film study. Meetings. Ice baths. Repeat. There's not a lot of free time during the season, but every second that is free this week has been leading to one thing.
Tonight.
I turned down Theo’s invite to the bar. Declined Knox’s rooftop party. Told Jace I had other plans.
Because I do.
I'm going to Heaven.
And I’m requesting Lux for The Backstage.
Yeah, she’s going to be pissed. Probably so pissed she’ll throw something at me. She might even threaten bodily harm. But this time, she can’t just walk away or slap money against my chest and disappear into the crowd.
Tonight, she’s going to face me.
And once I’ve paid for time in The Backstage? There’s not much she can do about it.
Well, okay, she could scream for security. Or kick me in the balls.
But I don’t think she will.
Not after the way she looked at me last Sunday.
That wasn’t hate in her eyes. That wasn’t disgust.
That was excitement. That was pride.
And I want to know what the hell it means.
I step into Heaven’s Edge, the bass thumping through the floor like a second heartbeat. Neon lights flicker and dancers move like they own the room. It smells like perfume, whiskey, and temptation.
Max, the manager, spots me right away. Big guy in a tight shirt with a Bluetooth earpiece and the kind of permanent scowl that screams “I’m not fucking around.” He raises a brow and makes his way over.
“Well, well. The golden boy returns.” He crosses his arms. “Didn’t think we’d see you back so soon.”
“I like to keep people on their toes,” I say, handing him a thick stack of cash. “I want time in The Backstage. One-on-one.”
His expression doesn’t change. “You got a girl in mind?”
“Lux.”
His lips twitch. “You requesting her, or hoping she’s in the mood?”
“Requesting,” I reply. “And paying enough to make sure she shows.”
Max chuckles, tucking the money away. “You’re brave, Reed. Or stupid. That one’s a firecracker.”
I flash a grin. “I play with fire every Sunday.”
He smirks and jerks his chin toward the back hallway. “Room three. She’ll be with you in ten.”
The Backstage is dark, lit by sultry reds and shadows, designed to make anyone feel like they’re about to commit a sin.
I enter room three and sit on the velvet couch, legs spread wide, relaxed on the outside, but inside, I’m wired like I’m waiting for a snap.
The door finally opens.
And there she is.
