Page 82 of Another Fox Bites the Dust

There’s really only one way to find out.

ChapterTwenty-Three

Luke

I can’t breathe. My ribs ache like an elephant stepped on them. I don’t have this. I don’t have anything. What I have is a stomach full of nerves and hands full of sweat that couldn’t lift a pen, let alone pluck some complicated notes.

“Luke, five minutes.” The roadie that came with Laila and her crew calls out at the office door before shutting us back in the little room.

I might throw up. My heart is pounding. My chest is tight. This is what a heart attack feels like. Exactly like a panic attack.

“Hey, look at me.” Mindy’s face swims into focus.

I blink. “I’m okay.” My voice emerges on a croak.

“We’ve practiced a thousand times. This is just like that. Pretend it’s only us out there.”

She’s completely right and yet completely wrong all at the same time. Wehavepracticed a thousand times, on the very stage outside this room. Mindy has been a stalwart, an extremely sexy, untouchable champion of my progress, pushing me to practice at Veronica’s every night this week so that I had a chance to get comfortable at least with the space, if not the fact that hundreds of people are listening. There are usually no more than a handful of people in the crowd.

Tonight, there is more than a handful. It’s packed. And not just with some random spectators. Oh no, there are press, influencers, musicians, publicists . . . and it’s not only me performing.

Laila is on the stage—which is really more like a raised platform, her voice strong and clear, sounding like an angel even through the walls between us. The crowd has been loving Laila’s acoustic performance so far, the cheering in between songs has been shaking the building.

Everyone we invited showed up, and then some. Mindy and Ursula sold it as an exclusive event, which made people clamor to be invited.

The plan is for Laila to finish her solo set, then I’ll join her for a duet. After, she’ll exit and I’ll take over, going into my solo act. Solo. Alone. On stage, in front of hundreds of strangers, singing my own songs.

My heart thumps hard enough to leap out of my throat while my stomach churns.

I might not make it.

“Let’s take some deep breaths. Are you warmed up?” She bites her bottom lip, her eyes worried as they scan me.

Shit. If she’s nervous, I’m really screwed.

“If I get any warmer, I might combust.” I could jump in a tub of snow and still be slick with sweat right now.

She cocks her head, listening to the music seeping through the thick walls of the building behind her. “This song is nearly over.”

I jump up out of the sagging couch in Veronica’s office, pacing back and forth in front of the desk. “I can’t do this. I should leave. Can I leave?”

“Luke, stop.” She steps in front of me, halting my progression. Her eyes search mine. “You just need a distraction. I have an idea.”

“Are you going to punch me? Knock me out?”

Her mouth twists. “I hadn’t planned on it.”

“You have some fast-acting Valium on you?”

The corner of her mouth twitches. “No. No violence, no drugs. Just this.” Without further warning, her hands slide up my body, curling around my neck.

Every nerve ending in my body shivers to life, and all of my attention is laser-focused on the woman in front of me, touching me. We’ve taken care over the past week to avoid any accidental physical contact.

Her hair is down, curling around her face in soft waves, her lips shiny. A deep pink sweater dress hugs her figure. She moves into me, her chest brushing against mine, the faint scent of something floral and sweet tickling my nose.

And then she kisses me. Her mouth presses against mine, her lips softer than rose petals but the pressure of them insistent and sure.

Mindy is kissing me.

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