Behind the Scenes

thirty-three | denouement

{ denouement }
- final scene in a movie; the resolution

My heart stutters in my chest, banging against the caged walls.

I hear the smile in his voice. "Are you here?"

A smile tugs on my lips. "Yeah, I'm here. I can see you."

I can't anymore, but I get the reaction from him that I want. "I wish I could see you." He pauses. "Why aren't you with your sister?"

"She ran off without me."

My sweet, obnoxious sister is what made him stop in his tracks. I know her initial intention to get the spot against the railing wasn't to assist in our relationship problems, but I know she won't be that mad about it. Lennon Ross touched her phone, held it up to his face, and, for a moment, only had eyes on her.

Thank goodness I scheduled that FaceTime.

His soft chuckle heats my insides. "I need to see you."

"I know. I need to see you, too."

"There's been so much shit, Reese. I—I'm so—"

"Not here," I tell him, worried that the small speaker will pick up the rapid beating of my heart. "This isn't a conversation we should have on the phone. Especially when you're supposed to be socializing with all your fans."

He groans, the anticipation of seeing me again for the first time in weeks is killing him as much as it is me. This is a good sign. "Okay. Go back into the arena and tell them who you are and—"

"Tell them who I am? Why would they—"

"Trust me, they'll know exactly who you are," he chuckles, and I imagine him dragging a hand through his sweaty dark hair that I miss so much. Heat swarms my face as my stomach flutters. The urge to kiss this man is unreal. "And I'll meet you there in, what? Twenty minutes?"

"Wait, what about my sister and her friends? I'm their ride." I'm surprised I managed to even think about my sister at this moment. I really deserve that 'Sister of the Year' title now.

"Uhh, shit." He's quiet for a moment, and then says something incredibly stupid. "I'll have Logan charm them, and take them backstage with him."

"They're thirteen!"

"I don't know, Reese! I'm trying to think about your thirteen year old sister right now, when that's the furthest thing I want to be focusing on." Quietly, he says, "No offense."

Before he gets a chance to endure Rosie's wrath, I jump in, "Milo knows her ... sort of. Just make him keep an eye on them, please."

It might be a big ask of Milo to watch over my sister that barely even remembers him, but we're almost out of options. I really don't want any rumors spreading around that the band has engaged in sexual activities with minors—Emma James would have a field day with that. Milo is the nice, safe, brotherly option that I'm hoping doesn't come back to bite us in the ass.

Here goes nothing.

"Got it. I'll meet you there in twenty."

I grip my phone a little tighter, "Can't wait."

♪ ♪ ♪

There's two minutes left before Lennon told me he'd join me backstage, and my stomach is twisting into knots.