Page 153 of Pack Me Up
We bow, together. The spotlights heat my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the fire inside my chest.
We did it.
We fucking did it.
The curtain falls and the lights fade, but I’m still buzzing, still floating. Tommy hugs me so hard I drop my guitar, and Oli jumps on us both, her hair blinding me as she yells, “That’s how you make history, bitches!”
I laugh, I cry, I don’t know which comes first.
Backstage, the noise is muffled, but the energy is everywhere.
We did it.
Coming off stage is always like waking up from a fever dream. You think you’re fine, that you remember every second, but then the adrenaline stops, and your body decides to quit working. My legs are liquid, my throat raw, my hands still shaking from the last chord.
Tommy and Oli flank me like bookends, arms looped tight around my shoulders. The three of us crash through the curtain and stumble into the wings, giggling, gasping, and grabbing at each other.
I want to drop to the floor and howl. Instead, I hang on to the first solid thing I can find, which happens to be Oli’s leather sleeve.
She’s grinning, hair damp with sweat, eyes sparkling so hard I can’t look at her directly. “Did you hear them?” she shrieks. “They fucking loved it!”
Tommy laughs so hard he nearly falls, then rights himself and slaps me on the back. “That last note, Britt. Jesus. I thought you were going to levitate.”
Before I can even process that, I’m mobbed. My mates come out of nowhere, all five of them moving like a tide. Saint’s first. He sweeps me up with one arm and spins me, his scent drowning out every other smell in the room.
He sets me down and tips my chin up with two fingers. His face is unreadable, but his eyes are blue ice. “You did it, honey,” he says, so quiet only I can hear. “I’ve never been prouder.”
Fox is next, arms wide, and when he hugs me, it’s like being blanketed in sunlight. He lifts me clear off my feet and spins me again, and when he puts me down, I’m dizzy with happiness and lightheaded from lack of oxygen.
“Best show of your life,” he says, eyes bright with tears. “Best show of mine, just watching you.”
Hunter and the twins are right behind him. Hunter hugs me from behind, buries his face in my neck, and rumbles, “Told you the crowd would eat it up.” His hands squeeze my shoulders, grounding me, and his voice vibrates all the way down my spine.
Colton and Cody come at me together, classic twin formation, talking over each other and bouncing on their toes.
“Did you see the pit—”
“—when you hit that scream on the chorus—”
“—three guys lost their minds—”
“—Cody cried, I swear he did—”
“—shut up, you cried, idiot—”
They sandwich me between them and muss my hair, both of them beaming like they’ve just won the lottery.
Oli’s pack is there, too, just a few steps away, waiting for her to finish basking in the glory. Jack’s got a towel slung around his neck and a bottle of something sparkling in his hand. Chase is already shirtless, ready for his set. Aiden looks like he’s holdingback tears, and Dax is hovering, waiting for his moment to sweep Oli up.
Tommy is mobbed by both packs, getting high-fives from everyone, even Dax. Tommy’s face is streaked with mascara, and he looks like he’s about to pass out from joy.
I watch as Oli gets tackled by her alphas, each one of them peppering her with kisses and ridiculous praise. She basks in it, soaking up every drop.
For a while, we sit there, soaking it all in. The noise from the crowd filters back through the cinderblock, and every so often, we hear a chant start up. It’s my name, Tommy’s, Oli’s, or just omega like a war cry. I keep expecting the nerves to come back, but they never do. I just feel warm, and wanted, and so alive I could burst.
Tommy leans in, voice soft but vibrating with happiness. “Can we just stay here forever?”
Oli nods, curls sticking to her forehead. “Until we have to go on.”
