“Uhh . . . One touch, baby girl,” he says reluctantly. “Gentle.”
Mila runs her fingers down the strings, the low acoustic buzz filling the air. She giggles.
“He’s gone soft,” Conner says into my ear, watching as she does it again, and again.
“By all accounts, Mila’s turned you Burke boys into a bunch of pussies,” I say back, quietly.
“Only where she’s concerned.” He sweeps an arm around my waist and drops his lips to mine.
My fingers curl in his shirt, and I lean up into his kiss.
“Five minutes, guys,” someone says from across the tent.
All four of them acknowledge it with a grunt or mumble of some sort.
“What’s it like out there, Sof?” Kye asks me.
“I’ve never seen so many people in Shelton Bay in my life,” I answer honestly. “It’s probably a small concert for you guys, but seriously, wow. You can’t park anywhere in town.”
“Sounds about right,” Tate says, prying Mila away from his guitar and giving it to someone to take on stage. “Why don’t we grab you a Popsicle before we start?”
He grabs her hand and leads her through security to an ice cream stand.
“Nice of him to get her sticky before he passes her back,” I mutter, watching.
Conner grins. “Uncle’s privilege, I think.”
“You guys ready? Where’s Tate?” a guy with a headset and clipboard asks.
“Uncle duty,” Leila answers.
“Where’s Jenna?” I whisper to Conner.
“Sick,” he replies. “She quit last week. Her pregnancy is pretty sucky. We’re hiring a new PA this week to meet us in Charleston for our first performance.”
“Ah. I see.”
Tate comes back, holding Mila by the hand, and she’s clasping a bright red Popsicle, licking it crazily.
“Finally,” the guy says, seeing him. “You’re onstage in sixty seconds, so move it.”
“Got it,” Conner says.
He turns swiftly and grabs me, pulling me against him. His lips move across mine firmly, tasting, teasing. “For luck,” he whispers.
I stand, dumbstruck, as he kisses Mila on the forehead and follows the guys toward the stage.
“Come on.” Ajax lifts Mila and sits her on his hip, facing the front, much to her delight. “Let’s go.”
“You don’t have to carry her.” I run after him, Leila on my heels.
“I bet I can hold her longer than you,” he challenges. “And I’m taller. She’ll see better.”
He grabs her again and hoists her over his head and onto his shoulders.
“What are you doin’?” Leila laughs.
He turns back and winks at us both. “My job.”
This is truly insane.
I thought I understood how loved Dirty B. was when I watched their concerts on the Internet or TV. I thought I knew how excited their fans were, how loud they were, how much they truly idolize the boys on the stage in front of me.
I had no. Freakin’. Idea.
Everyone wants to get to the front. Carlos has pushed more than one group of girls away from me and Leila over the last hour and a half. Everyone wants to be as close to Dirty B. as they can be. They want to physically touch them.
All four boys can work the crowd, even Aidan when he’s stuck behind his drums. They rile them up until their excitement is at a fever pitch and completely infectious.
“Phew,” Conner says into his microphone, standing in the middle of the stage. “That was fun. You guys really do know all the words, huh?”
Cue screaming.
“Yeah, I thought so. Anyway . . .” He wipes his hand over his brow. Someone throws him a towel. “Hey, thanks!” He laughs, using it, then throwing it back. “Anyway. We have somethin’ special for y’all today. You wanna hear it?”
Cue screaming round two.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
And screaming round three.
“Okay, I think they wanna hear it, guys.” He looks back at his brothers. “I’m gonna need some help for this one.” He waves in our direction, and before I know it, Ajax is moving toward the stage with Mila on his shoulders.
“What the hell?” My jaw drops as I watch Ajax step through the security line.
Conner puts his mic on the floor, grabs Mila, then picks it back up. “All right.” He adjusts Mila on his hip. “Hey, baby! Everyone, meet my daughter, Mila. Mila, meet, well, everyone.”
A chorus of “Awww” rings out through the crowd. I’m not awww-ing. I’m wondering what the hell he’s playing at up there. I glance at Leila and she shrugs, wearing the same kind of confused look I presume I am.
“Can we get a couple seats?” Conner looks to the side and two stools are brought out. He sits Mila on one and crouches next to her. “You stay sittin’ right there, okay? Don’t move.”
Mila nods, clutching Bunna.
“Good.” He picks his guitar up from the side of the stage and sits, hooking the mic in the stand. After lowering it and tilting the mic down, he gets comfortable.
“Right. Y’all ready?”
Screams. Always the screams.
“Okay.” He nods back to his brothers.
Aidan clicks his drumsticks against the side of his snare drum four times, then the rest of them kick in, playing acoustically. Shivers cascade down my spine. Hell, they flow through my whole body. The ends of my fingers tingle, and when Conner starts to sing, when that drawl comes out that invades the space around me, everything inside me coils tightly.
My heart pounds, and I could swear my hands are sweating, but I don’t know because I can only focus on him and the warmth in his voice.
Seasons pass and feelings change,
But don’t you know we’re still the same,
I still want you the way I did before,
I still want you the way you wanted me.
He looks at me, his eyes unguarded, and I see everything he feels. I know this song is for me, like every song he’s ever written, it’s me.
I deny it ’cause it hurts, I fight it ’cause it burns,
But I want everythin’ you have to give . . . Give to me . . .
’Cause forever ain’t the same, without your touch . . .
It’s a forbidden gain, an endless pain . . .
I swallow and hug myself. His words wrap around me, the honesty in them almost suffocating me.
Leila nudges me. “Ain’t this the one he was working on before?”